Do you have any lovebirds? No how about honey?
failing that then any bare root roses... but only of these varieties. oh no don't bother then a massage would be nice though.
In his poem "Parliament of Fowls," Chaucer wrote that St. Valentine's Day was chosen for the date on which birds gathered together to select their mates. The line reads: "For this was on seynt Valentynes day/ Whan every foul [fowl] cometh ther to chese [chase] his make [mate]." This takes me back to my infant viewing of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. The films opening scene of Melanie Daniels and Mitch Brenner first encountering each other in the exotic bird department of a glamorously propped pet shop of gilded cages filled mostly with singing canaries and strawberry finches with the script concerning that of lovebirds of ‘different varieties’. As I would later discover, as a teenager lovebirds go from loving one another, cuddling and preening one another on the same perch to suddenly deciding to kill their mates with often fatal consequences… A daily supply of fresh willow for the record is an attempt to appease them, they adore stripping the bark and click their beaks with approval of this natural gnawing.
I was delighted to read today, that Valentines day was not really ever about flowers that much anyway but honey. You see St Valentine is in fact the patron saint of bee keepers. Bee keeping was vital to Roman taste buds, a glass of honey water anyone? Wisely the ancient Romans beloved their bees and honey. Valentine was a bee keeper, know for treating his bees kindly and blessing them with prayers. I love the below stained glass window depiction of him and the most fabulous bees. The sort of bee sainted worship I’m game for.
Supermarket honey has largely been proven to be rubbish, carefully look at the small print on the backs of squeezy bottles and jars and you might see the small print of ‘A mix of honey from inside and outside the EU’ Trust me its anything but from a local hive and not an atom close to that of manuka sweetheart.
A report last year and in fact of recent days news has found that due to the rising cost of honey, some shop shelf brands may blend EU honey with non-EU honey, the latter of which is allowed to contain glucose syrup and other less expensive added ingredients that are otherwise banned under EU guidelines. In November of 2024, nine in ten honey samples from UK retailers failed an authenticity test and were found to have been bulked out with cheaper sugar syrup, according to tests conducted by the Honey Authenticity Network. Since these revelations, The EU has introduced new testing methods and labelling laws so consumers can better know exactly where their honey hails from. However, the UK has been slower to follow suit. A jar of local honey from someone who loves their bees seems to me, to be a very lovely gift to anyone who you are fond of. I do think that this, this Valentines day thing to be the most poorly thought out of Northern hemisphere’d celebrations, of certainly not being at one with mother nature. How bloody bonkers to have, what is basically, an often enforced national flower gift buying day when it is, in natural affect winter, and the flowers are only just waking up.
I especially love my very knowledgeable bee keeping friends who are Epping Good Honey. They keep their bees in the Epping forest. I did a podcast with them a few years ago now but here is the link to listen to us chatting about bee keeping and all things on the subject of bees. talking bees with Epping good honey
The rose Tottering by Gently by David Austin - healthy and bee friendly
It is actually my dad Nick’s birthday on valentines day. Nicky Valentine my nan Min would say with affection, he was her 5th baby from a total of 6, her last of what would be a total of two boys and four girls. My aunt Ros recalls her mother scrubbing the hallway floor the day after his birth whilst she and her sisters took charge of the new born, dressing him in their dolls clothes. I sent my dad a birthday present of a bare root David Austin rose that is the buttercup like single lemon flowering ‘Tottering by Gently’ which I think is a dreadfully dull name frankly but its a good doer although the gift reply from said dad on the phone was not, unsurprisingly full of excitement. I suppose though why would you be? I would be, but then its my selection. I suppose there lies the problem, even for prestigious David Austin, roots are not visually thrilling. Not that my dad would be thrilled by the appearance of flowers, we aren’t great present givers. He keeps buying me knives for Christmas … garden pen knives I will add but you are talking to someone who really does not trust oneself with penknives in pockets.
At decent expense bare root roses are far cheaper than a big bouquet of scentless, sterile Kenyan February roses. I really hate everything about bought flowers not least the cellophane wrapping what a bloody passion killer that is that the arrangement of flowers immediately has to involve the fucking bin, awful. A bare root rose in comparison arrives seamlessly in a paper bag, fast asleep and stubby as it should be but what promise such a bare rooted sleeping beauty holds is alas all in the eye of the beholder indeed and classy beholders well they are getting rarer except you of course, dear reader and if you have got roses on the table right now fantastic, lovely you haven’t hurt anyone but next year demand snowdrops, oh fuck such a snob, sorry…. let me in before I get mugged. Here is the link to Amandaland if you haven’t seen Joanna in it yet also, you just have to. - Amandaland bbc iplayer
A rose planted well and cared for as an infant plant will often last its owners life time. Roses are lucky even if allowed to become old and woody with much dead material a skilled prune can regenerate their youth, we are not so fortunate nor clearly as wise.
As we are in the subject of love, I’ll finish this little chat with me spending the nights drawing flamingos. I like to watch zoo keeping documentaries and found one last night about the successful keeping of flamingos at zoo Leipzig. The narration is in German so I don’t to my shame understand much of it. Zoo Leipzig
With much effort, Zoo Leipzig maintains and successfully breeds, the smallest species of flamingo. These are tiny, rose plumed and brown beaked Lesser flamingo who are at great risk from climate change (like everything seemingly beautiful). They are understandably, hard to encourage to become romantic, as in the wild they breed in the middle of inhospitable soda pan lakes of Africa’s Rift Valley.
More people have visited space than encroached these hazardous, salt crusted waters of which can strip flesh from bone. This makes for a very exclusive but extremely hot place for these birds to gather and lay their eggs that hatch and fledge to become creches of little grey chicks who often then have to painfully march across the dry lake bed to the distant shore line where they will finally find geezers of fresh water. This whole incredible performance of life can be watched on David Attenborough’s A perfect planet - A perfect planet
For Zoo Leipzig, getting their lesser flamingos fruity seems to involve housing them, for some of the colder winter months of the year, (sensibly really) in a sauna like room with an island of prepared mud and mirrored walls so that they feel like they are in a larger group. The flock then begins their snorting, fluted and honking vocal courtships of closely dancing and building their sand castle like nests within this muddy and steam ballet practice like room. Sounds lovely! With chicks being the proof of this captive pudding once they are reared everyone is allowed back into the outside flamingo lagoon for the summer months, if only it was so simple for the rest of us.
Flamingo sauna breeding room zoo Leipzig
On that note, I’m off for a bath and a gold fashioned… without the bitters and the soda water. Light the candles darling.
Such interesting facts about the real Valentine! That window is spectacular. I have 12 roses in my garden. All on their own root stock, as they would not survive Vermont winters. Several of the neighbors have bees. And one gives me honey every year. I get to taste my own flowers, for they gather in my gardens.❤
One of my favourite scenes in Hitchcock... x