Forget-Me-Not Flowers?

I don't want to sound like a grumpy old man who starts every sentence with, 'I remember when......' but I get the feeling I'm going to come across that way anyway. OK, so I am a little grouchy, or so I've been told, but I'm only in my early forties so I don't think I qualify as old. Although it is all relative. My son, who at four and is only concerned about his own age and his friend’s, asked me what age I was and when I replied that I was forty-one he said,
'Wow. That certainly is a big number! It's nearly fifty!'
(Yes, he's four so every sentence ends with a question mark or an exclamation mark. Often both.)
Anyway, I remember when (I know, I know) houses had proper flowers in their front gardens. I'm only talking about the seventies and eighties so it's not that long ago. Yes, I know people still plant flowers but it's usually a couple of hanging baskets full of Trailing Petunias or a window box full of Lobelia and Busy Lizzies. Don't get me wrong, that’s all fine if it floats your boat but it seems to me to be a bit boring and repetitive. Sure, they will flower all summer and are certainly bright and cheery but that’s not how it used to be.
I guess up to the late eighties, garden centres, free time and money were scarce and people grew plants that they could get for free from their neighbours or relatives. At least they knew they’d grow well in their own garden. And so they spread from garden to garden, getting bigger and better each year and requiring very little maintenance. Just getting cut back in Autumn when they had finished flowering, sometimes by a stray lawnmower or sheep. Take a wander through some of the older estates in any town or pre-nineteen-nineties houses in the countryside and you will see what I mean. This time of the year these plants are all in flower and looking wonderful but you rarely see them in any of the new estates or houses.
These were mostly perennial flowers, basically plants that die back each year but return bigger, and better, the following year. Plants such as Peonies, Irises, 'Real' Geraniums (as distinct from the summer bedding Geranium that is actually a Pelergonium.), Easter Lilies and even perennial Sweet Pea. That’s a plant that I remember rambling through the hedge in my granny's garden.

Then in the nineties we got a little money and were being influenced by The Small Gods of Gardening from both sides of the Irish Sea.
‘Flowers aren’t hip or cool!’ they said.
‘Use leaf colour, texture and shapes!’ they said.
‘Pull out all those stupid plants your granny gave you!’ they said.
‘Trust us. We’re on the telly so we know what we’re talking about.’ They said
And like sheep following a shepherd, even if it’s towards a slaughterhouse, we obeyed. Or at least I did.
I planted my garden in the nineties and it’s all angles, grasses, leaves and the wonderfully termed ‘architectural’ plants (or weeds as my other half calls them). I was, and still am, very happy with the garden but I always felt it was missing something. I couldn’t put my finger on it until I was working with a garden centre in Wexford last year, berating them about their signage or something, and spotted a batch of ‘Real’ Geraniums, purple-blue ones that I remembered from years before in my mum’s garden. Suddenly it dawned on me what my garden was missing; plants with a history or story, and something that jogs your memory about people or places. So slowly but surely I have introduced these plants into my garden, so that at least in a few years time, I can tell my kids about the plants and how I remember them from when I was their age. (I’ll probably have to wait until they’re out of their teenage years when I’d probably just get a shrug and an ‘Uh, so wha’ dad.’)

I think another problem is that people of my generation can often remember these plants but have no idea what they are called. When they go to garden centres they either can't find them, get blinded by tray after tray of summer bedding or are too scared to ask staff about 'the lovely plant my granny had with flowers like a big bluey-purple buttercup.' (Which would probably be Geranium magnificum that I mentioned earlier by the way. My mum had one either side of the gate in our home place, which she shared with many. The plants that is, not the house.)
My point is don't be afraid to ask. Bring in a piece of the plant, or a photo, or just describe it. Any plantsperson in a garden centre should know what you are looking for if you provide enough information. Plant them now, even if they are going out of flower, and by next year they will be fantastic, with loads of flower and colour.
Here are a few of my favourites to get you going, but what you should do of course, is track down the plants that you remember from when you were young.

Iris – All are showy and easy to grow. Lift them and divide them every few years and they will grow and grow. I like Iris ensata (Japanese Iris) and they are worth searching out in any good plant orientated garden centre.

Peony – These have gigantic blooms in a range of colours. They can look a little weedy in their pots when you buy them but give them a good home and they will knock your socks off! Search out the dark red varieties.

Perennial Geraniums – These come in shades of blue, pink and white and are one of the easiest plants you could ever grow. My favourites are the bluey-purple Geranium magnificum I mentioned already and a golden leaved, magenta flowered variety called ‘Ann Folkard’.

Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla mollis) – This is a great low growing, yellow flowered perennial that's claim to fame is it's nice yellow dainty flowers and the way the water sits in it's leaves, like little crystal beads.

Catmint (Nepeta) – This is another low growing plant that has loads of pale blue flowers all summer. This also drives your cat loopy. You have been warned!

When planting any of these just make up a mix of compost and slow-release fertilizer or chicken manure pellets, mix it with the soil that you're packing in around the plant and water well. Don't let the weeds grow around them and trim them back when the leaves start to go brown in the Autumn.

Wouldn't it be great if in twenty or thirty years time our kids or grandkids were saying, 'I'd love one of those plants that granddad has, the one with the big blue, buttercup shaped flowers. That will always remind me of him.'
Remembering is important.