Boris is picking up...

I planted Geum Borisii last year, and to be honest it didn't do much. Ok but not particularly impressive. Plenty of flappy leaves, some orange flowers.

So I kind of forgot about Borisii and it got a bit overgrown with creeping buttercups, to which it bears a superficial resemblance, so I was surprised to find it coming into flower a few weeks ago, around the time the lockdown started. It was doing ok actually, but then there were a few sharp frosts and all those overwhelming weed issues, and it started to look a bit sick. 

Very sick in fact, so I carefully dug it up and put it in a pot in the Intensive Care Unit by the greenhouse. It looked a bit dodgy at first, I don't think it liked being moved, but I watered it every day, looked after it as best I could, and I'm pleased to say it has picked up nicely and is starting to look like it might be ready to go back into the border quite soon. where hopefully it will make an impressive show. All of which has made me think that maybe I should spend a bit of money on improving the Intensive Care Unit, so that, comfortingly, one could rely on it being available whenever it might be needed, it as I'm sure Boris(ii) would be the first to agree.

Just to be clear,this is Geum Borisii of course,  not the Johnson cultivar you may have been thinking of.

Glad All Over

Horizontal Glad

The recent much needed rain has caused the usual late summer havoc in my garden, runner beans have fallen over on to the courgettes who must be wondering who turned the lights out, but won't be prevented from growing at a rate of knots even in the dark under the beans. Tall perennials have lurched alarmingly to the side under the weight of both themselves and the additional water, so I will have to set aside some time to go out and resurect some staking and reinforcements as soon as I can. Of course if I had done the job properly in the first place none of this would have happened, - I knew all the time that the first heavy rain would topple those swaying runner bean plants! The wigwam style beans are fine, it's just the ones in a long, insufficiently supported line that are suffering the effects of Gardener's Procrastination Syndrome - or That'll Do For Now, I'll Be Back Later To Finish. Lucky for me that I have about ten times more beans than two normal human beings can be expected to consume, even with the help of willing friends and neighbours. Next year I'll do better, honest I will..

Vertical Glad

The up-side of all the falling over is the unexpected increase in the supply of cut flowers for the house. Fortunately for me most late summer perennials seem to be quite self supporting, things like Rudbeckias, and Heleniums and so on, are rarely affected by bad weather unless it's really extreme, but if you have and of the tall Gladioli they will keel over without support in rain and wind. There are three solutions to this, (four if you count not growing them at all James), you can either be a Proper Gardener like Toby and Alan,(and my son James) and put in support canes early in the season, but see above under Gardener's Procrastination Syndrome. Or you could grow the smaller, more fashionable varieties which require no staking, like Galadiolus nana. Or, like me, you can plant them where you think they will be reasonably protected, hope for the best and use the ones that blow over for the house. I have to point out here  of course, for those of you who have your image to think of, that Glads are deeply deeply unfashionable, and you can only grow them if you're still wearing the same clothes you wore twenty years ago in the hope that they will eventually come back into fashion, or maybe you could grow them ironically, perhaps with three flying ducks on the fence behind them. I'm thinking I could develop this into a whole new style - "The Ironic Gardener", book and TV series to follow.

I only have a few glads, and only white ones, I think the variety is White Prosperity, butI really like them and I think I will get some more for next year. People used to dig up glads after they had flowered, like dahlias, and replant the following spring, but mine have been in the same place for several years and have survived even the hard winter we had last year, so like Dame Edna, and old ladies everywhere they are clearly tougher than they look and will soldier on regardless of whether you like them or not.

http://www.we7.com/song/Eddie-Izzard/Old-Ladies?m=0

An At Risk Group

To quote one of my favourite comedians, David Mitchell,
"I do not have OCD, I've checked . Three or four hundred times. I definitely don't. I've stopped myself catching it by washing my hands an even number of times. But I'm aware I'm in an 'at risk group' "

If you grow sweet peas, you may notice a tendency towards this kind of behavior. I certainly do. I took the dog out this morning in the pouring rain, the first pouring rain I've seen for ages so I wasn't complaining, just put the wellies on and set off, and  we were making a fairly cracking pace towards the front gate when I was obliged to stop and attend to this

Seed pods on the sweet peas. (Variety Cupani, by the way, an old fashioned variety with smaller but highly scented flowers) Seed pods however, are not allowed to form on the sweet peas, it contravenes Garden Regulation 472 paragraph 7 subsection 3.1, which clearly states that if you allow a seed pod to ripen on sweet peas the plant will fail to initiate any further flowers even if you take it off later and it will just sit there for the rest of the summer, a pile of pale green leaves and tendrils. I'm not sure that this is even correct, my sweet peas grow in a tangle on a wigwam so it's impossible to discern accurately. But I'm not taking any chances, and so every single time I pass the wigwams I have to stop and gather any seed pods that may have formed since last time I walked past, even if it was only ten minutes ago.
I have to do it. Even in a force ten gale, three feet of snow have fallen, and the house is on fire, David's revving the car in the drive waiting for me to open the gate because we're late, I just have to stop for the few seconds it takes to pick them off.

But of course however careful you are, like the labours of Penelope you will never finish, and this morning when Mo and I came back some twenty damp minutes after the first Seed Pod Incident and we were both desperate to get into the kitchen, dry out, and have a cup of tea (she likes tea), I spotted out of the corner of my eye...

there it is, lurking at the back.  And there were numerous others too.So we had to stand there in the pouring rain just to pick off the rogue seed pods ( actually I did all the picking, she just sat there in the rain, no help at all...)

I'm definitely in an "at risk group".

Here's Johnny...

If I didn't see this with my own eyes each year, I would scarcely believe it to be true. As I said last month David sets the pampas grass on fire every year when it gets past its best, and it goes in the space of a few weeks, from this burnt offering

to this

bursting through the charcoal like a phoenix from the ashes, or if you're not that keen on Pampas Grass, like Jack Nicholson in the Shining...

Bird Deterrent Update

Just a quick update on the state of my cherry trees. I know how you worry about these things.

I'm not sure if it's because of the Whirring Blades effect of the plastic wire, or the plastic bags tied to the branches,but there is a definite sign of ripening on the fruit, ie it's still there, and hasn't so far been eaten by birds.  Not edible yet, but pinkish yellow, as opposed to greenish yellow which is about as far as we normally get.So progress on that front. I'm not about to count my chickens yet though, as I've done this in previous years, only to be disappointed in the end.

Some rain has fallen today, at last, but nothing like as much as was promised by the Met Office. I'm spending far too much time watering at the moment, instead of planting and weeding, especially weeding. After all these millions of years of evolution, you would think the weather would have worked out that it should rain during the night for an adequate period of time, and then be fine during the daytime. That would be much more convenient.

I have finally cleared away the last of the spring flowers,forget me nots have gone in the compost. Many spring flowers just fade away about now, snowdrops and primroses for example, but if you have any of the larger polyanthus, they tend to make large rather cabbagey leaves at this time. You can leave them in situ for next year if you don't need the space, but my Hose in Hose primroses are at the front of the border and I can put something more attractive in there for the summer. So I just dig up the clumps and plant them at the back of the border behind something tall, where they can spend the summer months. They are quite happy in a shady cool position provided they get enough moisture, and I will dig them up again in autumn and split up the plants and put them in their flowering positions ready for next year. Proper job, as they say in Devon.

My New Shade Garden

Lots of us have areas of shade in our gardens,  bits of space behind obstacles, fences, under trees and so on, and I have more than my fair share of shade, due to trees, as I've mentioned before. We have thinned out the trees to some extent over the years, but there is still a large area which will not accommodate plants requiring a "normal" amount of sun, and light. Additionally, areas under trees are often quite dry as the tree drinks up vast amounts of water, and its foliage acts as an umbrella to the ground below. This is a part of the scrubby bit of garden that I've chosen for my shade garden, where nothing much grows apart from weeds. So this is a "before" picture, the "after" picture will be a bit later...

Anyway, enough complaining, I have decided to make more of shade loving plants, and for the water requirements I will just have to bite the bullet, and make sure that I provide sufficient irrigation for them to survive.  If anyone's looking for planting ideas for such an area, the plants I've used so far are

Hosta  -Fire and Ice
Digitalis Lutea - the yellow foxglove
Sarcococca Confusa and Sarcococca Hookerianum, - Christmas Box, or Sweet Box in the US I think
Tellima grandiflora
Primula bulleyana - Candelabra primula
Primula denticulata - White Drumstick primula
Dicentra spectabilis Alba - the white form of  bleeding heart
Polygonatum hybridum -  no shady area would be complete without the wonderful elegant arches of solomans seal - one of my favourite plants, (I have it under some other trees)

All the above are plants known to do well in shady areas, but I have also planted a few things in slightly better conditions, in the hope that they will do ok. Concentrating mainly on white and lighter colours I have planted

Philadelphus, Belle Etiole - shrub with white scented flowers in summer
Physostegia Alba - vigorous herbaceous perennial, with spikes of white flowers
"Ground cover" rose - white, these are sold by most garden centres, and although not a choice plants for a rosarian, they are tough as old boots, grow in difficult positions, and are very trouble free and floriferous. Some of the colours are a bit garish, so white should be ok I'm thinking.
Viburnum plicatum "Maresii" a wonderful shrub with tiers of white blossom in early summer.
I already have the native viburnum opulus, or guelder rose,  which is doing reasonably well, in the mid-shade area.

Some of these are experiments, so I will have to keep a regular eye on them and watch the watering needs, especially over the first summer.  Updates follow in due course.

Clematis Montana Rubens

I thought I would post a picture of the Clematis Montana rubens we have growing by the front gate. Not because it's special or unusual, in fact you see them everywhere at this time of the year, growing up fences gates, telegraph poles, almost anything. But it is quite big. Over the last several years I've climbed up this wall  at regular intervals to encourage the plant to grow up and along the wall as it now does, rather than behind the wall as it used to do.  This is the view from behind the wall, where my greenhouse is

I've given up climbing up now, as we seem to have the wall pretty well covered.

Also bear in mind that it's extremely easy to propagate this clematis. Internodal cuttings inserted around the edge of a 5" pot in sandy compost will usually root if you take them in June. I also find that layers root naturally on their own from branches which trail down and lie on  the ground. So if you live in your house long enough you could probably disappear completely in a veritable forest of pink without very much effort at all.

Winter Aconites In May?

Way back in March when the Winter Aconites were in full flower I mentioned that if you wait until the seed pods form, you can harvest the seed and spread it around on any spare bit of ground to increase your stock. Well this is what the ripe seed pods look like. I collected quite a large handful of seed today, and  was tempted to sow it in a seed tray, thinking it would be a useful way of increasing the stock of plants, but when I  looked it up, I found that it will take a year to germinate, another year before it's ready to transplant, and probably two further years before it flowers! No wonder it's taken a few years before I've noticed any increase in the number of flowers. I think I'll just sprinkle it around and cover with a bit of compost, and hope for the best.

I will however dig up a few of the plants before they die down completely, and split them up as with snowdrops, this will increase my stock and will be a bit quicker!

Wisteria Time

May is wisteria time in the Cotswolds.

The lovely lavender of the flowers goes brilliantly with the mellow cotswold stone of many of the houses. I bought this plant as a present for David when we first moved in here some ten years ago, and it's now a good mature  plant. I know that some people have a problem getting them to start flowering, and I think they respond best to fairly hard pruning. Set out the basic framework of branches, and prune all other side shoots to a couple of buds to encourage formation of flower buds. We prune it fairly hard after flowering, to keep it under control, and tie in any new growth, but that's about all.If you leave them they just grow like the Day of the Triffids, ours regularly comes in the bedroom window by midsummer.

The South East facing wall of our house is the "blue" wall, in early summer and this is the first of the blue plants it houses to come into flower. It's clematis alpina Francis Rivis - I'll show you the others in a week or two when they come out. If I say so myself it's quite an effective display.

This is the view from my kitchen window.

You can see the blue flowers of the clematis on the right hand side growing up the wall outside the kitchen window and as I only get round to pruning it when I can't see out of the window any more, it's consequently a mass of twigs underneath the new growth, which makes it an irrisistible nesting area for birds in the spring. Usually it's wrens, this year I think there's a robin in there and possibly a blackbird. It's a lovely view while I'm doing the washing up - the nodding blue flowers, and the hard working birds nipping in and out to the nest.

Never Give Up

This is Salvia Elegans,or Pineapple Sage. Or as I like to think of it, The Probably Dead Plant. Being borderline hardy, it dies down to below ground level each winter, and (I hope) shoots again from the roots in spring. However, it's always very late indeed to wake up, and every year in April  I poke about in the dry twigs and think it's probably dead, and then in May I'm certain it's a gonner, and then at the beginning of June, just as I'm about to dig it up, it suddenly springs to life. At the risk of sounding like Rabbi Lionel Blue on Thought For The Day, I can't help thinking  it's a metaphor for  perseverance and never giving up, (well at least not until the end of June anyway).

Of course if I had taken a cutting or two, (cuttings strike very easily ) and overwintered them in the greenhouse, I could have avoided all this. If only..

Salvia Elegans, or Pineapple Sage has the lovely grey green leaves of all salvias, and this one bears a brilliant if small scarlet tubular flower in late summer and autumn. In a good summer it can grow three feet tall,  providing plenty of material for cuttings!!

Anyway there's no sign of life yet, and after the winter we've had this year, I do really think it could definitely be a late Salvia, a stiff,  gone to meet its maker. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-salvia.

Probably.

Leopard's Bane Starts Off The Herbaceous Season

I always like to see the bright jolly flowers of  Doronicum, or Leopard's Bane, in late Spring - it's the first of the herbaceous perennials to flower. I'm surprised that it's not more popular, as it does flower quite a bit before even the early subjects in the border. One of the problems is that it's about the same colour and size as the dreaded dandelion, which is in flower at the same time, but it's really well worth having, bridging the gap, as it does, between the spring bulbs and summer perennials.  It  grows pretty well anywhere, mine is under trees, in light shade. It makes a large clump in just a few years, and can be divided after flowering. I think mine's the ordinary sort, but several named varietes are available.

And Pretty Maids All In A Row

I planted these tulips along the edge of the drive two or three years ago, as an underplanting to a lavender hedge. Sadly the lavender hedge has been a bit of a disaster, and its remains will have to be dug out and replaced this year, but I was waiting until after the tulips had finished before starting the job.

They are the very ordinary Red Aperdoorn tulips, for me the quintissential Max Bygraves Amsterdam tulip, and I like them for their very tulip-ness, if you know what I mean, and although I wouldn't normally plant things in soldier-like rows, I think tulips lend themselves to this situation and I'm pleased with the effect. Underplanting with forget me nots (rather than dead lavender) would be un-original, but no less enchanting for all that.

You need to get your tulips in the Autumn for planting in the dormant season, but you don't need to rush to plant them early when you put in your other spring flowering bulbs, and they can happily go in any time during the winter months when the ground is reasonable, even as late as January.

Trout Lilies, What's in a Name?

I always look forward to seeing my clump of Erythroniums come up in April. Trout Lily or Dog's Tooth Violet is the common name, neither or which do this lovely flower any justice at all. It's not huge, no more than a foot tall, and the colour is delicate rather than flashy, but the form of the flowers is well worth getting down on you knees for a close inspection.

They do well in shade, mine are under deciduous trees, and once established will come up every year, increasing gradually as  the years go by. To encourage the clump to increase, take off the flowers as soon as they are over, before the plant sets seed. I think there are other varieties and colours available, mine is called Pagoda, and is widely available.

Violets Are Blue..

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Sugar is sweet

And so are you

I planted a little clump of sweet violets (viola odorata) a few years ago, and at last it seems to have taken off, and is flowering and spreading well. This morning was fine and sunny, perfect for enjoying the sweet scent of this low growing native plant. There are lots of dog violets growing wild around here, but as they are unscented  (viola riviniana) they are, at least to me, much less attractive to grow. The plant grows low to the ground, throwing out runners, and making a dense weed suppressing mat (eventually), if it's happy. The flowers, although tiny are beautifully scented, and are of course, the violets beloved of elderly aunts and have been used extensively in the production of perfumes and toiletries as far back as Ancient Greece. 

There is a myth that you can only smell violets once but the fragrance is strangely short-lived. Apparently one of the chemicals, ionine, which makes up the violet’s scent, has the ability to deaden the smell receptors that detect it (according to Flora Britannica by Richard Mabey).  I used to live in Torquay in Devon where the Lownds Pateman company produced the famous Devon Violets perfume so beloved of the above mentioned aunts, and I well remember visiting their offices and being almost overcome by the smell of the perfume, only to be informed by the owner that he couldn't smell anything and nor could anyone who worked there either!

Violets are steeped in folklore and myth, the Victorians associated them with fidelity and love, and they were traditionally placed on the graves of children. They feature in many lovely poems, including this one by D H Lawrence, - it's a bit impenetrable written down especially if you're not from Yorkshire,(or is that Nottinghamshire?) and much better spoken as here by Kenneth Branagh in the film "Coming Through"

Violets

Sister, tha knows while we was on the planks
Aside o' th' grave, while th' coffin wor lyin' yet
On th' yaller clay, an' th' white flowers top of it
Tryin' to keep off'n him a bit o' th' wet,

 An' parson makin' haste, an' a' the black
Huddlin' close together a cause o' th' rain,
Did t''appen ter notice a bit of a lass away back
By a head-stun, sobbin' an' sobbin' again!

How should I be lookin' round
An' me standin' on the plank
Beside the open ground,
Where our Ted 'ud soon be sank ?

Yi, an' 'im that young,
Snapped sudden out of all
His wickedness, among
Pals worse n'r ony name as you could call.

Let be that; there's some o' th' bad as we
Like better nor all your good, an' 'e was one.
--An' cos I liked him best, yi, bett'r nor thee,
I canna bide to think where he is gone.

Ah know tha liked 'im bett'r nor me. But let
Me tell thee about this lass. When you had gone
Ah stopped behind on t' pad i' th' drippin' wet
An' watched what'er 'ad on.

Tha should ha' seed her slive up when we'd gone,
Tha should ha' seed her kneel an' look in
At th' sloppy wet grave--an' 'er little neck shone
That white, an''er shook that much, I'd like to begin

Scraightin' my-sen as well. 'Er undid her black
Jacket at th' bosom, an' took from out of it
Over a double 'andful of violets, all in a pack
Ravelled blue and white--warm, for a bit

O' th' smell come waftin' to me. 'Er put 'er face
Right intil 'em and scraighted out again,
Then after a bit 'er dropped 'em down that place,
An' I come away, because o' the teemin' rain.

D.H. Lawrence

Both the flowers and leaves are edible, and can be used in salads, and the flowers can be candied and used as edible cake decorations.

Spring Gems

There's nothing unusual about this plant, which lots of people have in their garden, Viburnum Bodnentense var Dawn - but it's no less valuable for that. I have three of them in various parts of the garden, they flower on and off all through the winter, even in the snow, but come spring proper, they burst forth with generous amounts of waxy scented flowers on bare branches.

A few stems in a vase will perfume the room and look quite artistic in a japanese-y sort of way. Great if you're not exactly Contance Spry on the flower arranging front. 

It's easy to grow, available in most good garden centres, and fits into most garden schemes. Underplanted with spring bulbs it will make the most of the display. And if you're short of space and want to maximise the space for summer, you could plant one of the less rampant clematises to at the same time to climb through the branches and give you a burst of summer colour. Hagley Hybrid or Miss Bateman spring to mind.

Daphne Odora a Treat for the Postman

No digging today, for no other reason that it's Friday, I've been digging all week, and it's drizzling rain. Sometimes we gardeners have to remind ourselves of the simple pleasure of wandering round the garden, even in the drizzle, and not doing anything except just enjoying it.
And one of the most intense pleasures of the garden at this time of year is Daphne Odora, of which I have a good specimen growing by the front door.  The flowers are small and pale pink, a bit like a viburnum, and not really very significant. But as it's name implies, it casts around itself the most wonderful scent, which  is enjoyed not just by me, but in a public spirited kind of way I hope that everyone who comes to the door enjoys it too, just for these few weeks in March when it's flowering. I feel sure that should a bailiff be calling at your front door,(or do they come to the back door?) intent on distraining your chattels, it would surely soften their heart to stand in a cloud of Daphne Odora for two minutes while they waited for you to come out from behind the sofa.

The variety I have is aureomarginata, named for the delicate pale line around the edges of the foliage. It's evergreen, slow growing, needing little or no pruning, - I've had this one around ten years and it's slowly grown to about four feet across and barely three feet high, perfect for planting by the front door. So go on, treat the postman, and charm the bailiff  with Daphne Odora aureomarginata.

Pruning - Being Cruel to Be Kind

I have a large Garrya Elliptica, or catkin bush by the back door, growing up against a stone wall, but over the years it had got wider and wider  until last year it was some three feet or more wide, necessitating a detour on every trip along the pathway.  So I cut it back very hard indeed, so hard in fact that there was no foliage left on it at all, only bare branches.  But as you can see from the above picture, it has come back all the more vigorous this year, although I have had to forego most of the catkins for this season as they appear on one year old wood, and so I'm hoping for a good show next year.

This is what the catkins look like, in case you're not familiar with this shrub. Well worth growing for it's toughness, and  shiny evergreen foliage. And the catkins come very early in the year, in the middle of winter really, when you really do appreciate them.  But it's a vigorous plant and you really do have to keep on top of it if it's not to get out of hand. As soon as the catkins have faded get the hedge trimmer out and run over the whole plant, cutting off all the old catkins and a good proportion of foliage. The plant will then have the rest of the year to prepare for another fine show next winter. If you're buying a new plant the variety "James Roof" is recommended for it's extra long catkins.

A Bunch of Primroses for Peter Rabbit

Our garden is surrounded by open countryside, and so we are often visited/plagued by rabbits. Our dog, Mo has great fun chasing them off, but this is only ever a temporary respite since rabbits seem to have a similar short term memory to me and will just reappear the next day or even later on the same day.  I have non gardening friends who enjoy watching bunnies and even foxes running around the garden, and whilst this is lovely if you have a No-Gardening Garden, ie large lawn, the odd mature tree, few tough shrubs and a trampoline, if you have any kind of herbaceous or veg garden, to which rabbits have access, it will be decimated. I have even lost young trees to rabbits who have chewed away the bark all around the main trunk leading to death of the tree.

So what's to be done? I've thought of arming myself against the enemy so to speak, I could take to wearing a monocle and blasting my way around the garden with a blunderbuss, but although I am quite a good shot if I say so myself, it would clearly be somewhat dangerous for the neighbours, so here at Stalag Carters Barn we have opted for chicken wire all around the perimeter.We have to inspect and repair our fortifications each spring because Peter and his friends chew their way through it but in this way we usually manage to keep them out for at least the main growing season.

If you're in a rabbit area and can't fence them out for any reason, your only option is to either enjoy the wildlife display as my neighbours do, or to try to grow things that they won't eat. And there are some things that they don't seem to like as much as others. I was thinking that if rabbits ate primroses we would have none in the wild, so I'm guessing they don't like them for some reason, and hoping that this is the case I've planted up a little bed by the front gate that normally houses a weeping cherry tree and some snowdrops and nothing else, because, being outside the gate it's also outside the 12 foot razor wire/cctv/wailing sirens that constitute the Carters Barn garden boundary.  When I first came here I put some bedding plants in this little bed - big mistake. They were gone in a week. Anyway the primroses seem to have survived the first few days, so time will tell whether or not Peter Rabbit likes primroses for lunch, - let's hope not!

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Winter Aconites

Winter Aconites are one of the most overlooked of late winter, early spring flowers. They're a bit like winter buttercups (but no where near as weedy thank goodness) but each flower has a  little collar of green leaves around it rather like an Elizabethan ruff, very pretty. I had a little patch of them in this garden when we came here ten years ago, and I have tried to increase them sporadically each year without notable success. This is all the more irritating since they are a native species, and not far away from here, there is a little copse which is carpeted with them, just growing in the wild, forming a huge yellow carpet under the trees. I make a special point of going to see them each year, though you do have to choose your day - they are at their best when the sun is out, and tend to close up a bit on the duller days.

However, I'm pleased to see that this year they have increased quite a bit

and are  a substantial improvement on previous years. I acheived this by the simple expedient of watching out for when the little flowers faded and formed seed pods, and just picked off the pods and spread the seed around in patches of available ground nearby. This is of course what would have happened in nature anyway without my intervention, but I think a little judicious help has made a difference. Spreading the seed and covering with a little earth or compost helps avoid it becoming food for wildlife and gives the seeds a better chance of survival and germination. The seed germinates best when sown fresh, so this dispersal method works quite well, though I expect  sowing into pots would work as well and give greater control over the results. You can also divide up the clumps after flowering "in the green" in the same way as snowdrops.

Although known by the common name Winter Aconite, it's proper name is Eranthis Hyemalis, a relative of the buttercup, and so it's not a true aconite like the famously poisonous border perennial Monkshood, of the Aconitum family proper, - it is however just as poisonous (should you be thinking of have a plateful for dinner!)

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