That is a pretty perlagonium. I have a few, in clay pots, by the front door.One of them has started to stretch and wander, so it`s time to take some cuttings.
I can't resist these, whatever they are called! My great aunt, who lived with my gran on the farm, used to grow them in the cool outer kitchen. She would drench them in tea leaves, and there would be this musty smell every time we passed. That smell takes me back - to the pig in the sty, roses around the cowshed door and old barns to play in. Long gone days!
Alas, WV is going back on - I know it's hateful, but so are the robot spammers. Please please don't let WV stop you from leaving your oh-so-welcomed comments!
That is a pretty perlagonium. I have a few, in clay pots, by the front door.One of them has started to stretch and wander, so it`s time to take some cuttings.
ReplyDeletePretty!
ReplyDeleteYour house! All that lovely clean white!
ReplyDeleteAnd the pink of the . . . erm . . . pelogarniums!
Beautiful!
I thought they were geraniums, but I see (Google!) they are a cousin to geraniums.
Glorious distraction from the washing up!x
ReplyDeleteNot sorry at all Rachel. Sorry you forgot to link up so others could see the charming view of your window.
ReplyDeleteBut I know you're just a little bit busy so I'm gonna hook you up.
Hope your day is going well and you're moving slowly through it:)
xo Jane
Isn't it lovely to have flowers on the kitchen windowsill - I now have so many orchids, I can hardly see out the window!!
ReplyDeleteThey look beautiful to me!
ReplyDeleteS
xo
Your flowers look lovely! (Almost) a pleasure to wash-up....
ReplyDeleteOh, I thought you meant that *you* were getting a bit sad. I was relieved to realise that it was the flowers.
ReplyDeleteI do like your blue and white pottery (or is it porcelain?)
Such a pretty window! Perlagolium? Very pretty. We call it geranium across the Pond.
ReplyDeletethat would make me happy to wash dishes!
ReplyDeleteI can't resist these, whatever they are called! My great aunt, who lived with my gran on the farm, used to grow them in the cool outer kitchen. She would drench them in tea leaves, and there would be this musty smell every time we passed. That smell takes me back - to the pig in the sty, roses around the cowshed door and old barns to play in. Long gone days!
ReplyDelete