My fuchsia has grown and is blooming. It’s such a pleasure to watch the buds swell over days. Then one morning you wake up and they’ve opened, little triangular petals curving away from purple centers.
Right now the fuchsia is surrounded by primulas, violas and heuchera (burgundy leaves forever!). Also a ratty alyssum falling down the side of one pot. I’ll probably replant the supporting cast soon, I like an orange kalanchoe or two in the hot summer, against the fuchsia’s purple and, well, fuchsia.
Fuchsias want humidity, and the San Francisco Bay Area is semi-arid. Recently I ordered a watering can. It was on my Christmas list. As it turned out, my sister gave me the small Le Creuset (thank you sister! I use it! I love it! We can haz soup!). But I couldn’t forget this, which now lives just inside the door that leads to my patio. And yes, those are my pink plaid flannel pajama bottoms you see reflected. Complementary, don’t you think?
By Haws, an English company that’s been in operation since 1886. The little brass rose comes off, for those days when you want to reach under leaves. And now I water my fuchsia in a sparkle of copper light. So funny, the things we can find intoxicating.