Steve flowering with a friendly foxglove.Regular readers will recall the sorry tale of Son of Steve, the Siberian Iris, one of the very few plants from our shady London courtyard that, unaccountably, didn't cope with the move to our sunny Preuilly cour. Son of Steve was sadly consigned to the Great Compost Heap last year, reduced to a bunch of dessicated shreds.
original Steve, arrived in the second tranche of plants, brought by my hero van man husband a few weeks after the main move. Steve is doing fine and currently has two flowers with more to come. Once again, the camera has failed to capture the true depth of colour, but Simon has fiddled in PhotoShop to be able to reproduce it.