I shouldn’t like tulips as much as I do. They are so morally dubious in terms of their provenance and their cultivation (organic tulip bulbs are hard to find for a reason) and the practice of disposing of the bulb after each season has such a whiff of single-use plastic to them that I find it hard to stomach. (Although I can’t bring myself to do this, this is what the pros do). Not to mention the fact that many of them are imported from a long way away.

Every year I think that this is the last year of the showy annuals. Many will perennialise, some better than others (more on this later), but every dark October, as the dahlias start to blacken, my fingers start itching and I am seduced.

I put the blame for my recent historic tulip mania firmly at the feet of Polly Nicholson. Even more exclusive, even more expensive, even more precious than your bog-standard tulips. Any resistance that I had to having tulips in the garden fell at the sight of her beautiful brokens. I am very excited to have bagged a ticket to Rachel Siegfried’s Green & Gorgeous for a Tulip Day in aid of the Maggie’s Centres. Polly is also giving a talk. There is also a sale. I fear the worst.

But I am ahead of myself. This week is all about my tulips, and about your questions.

 The utterly mad combination that has really worked this year, even though it shouldn’t:

Orange lion

Orange princess

National velvet

Life affirmingly cheerful. Although the ones that I thought were National Velvet, I don’t think are. There are both dark reds and big, scarlet ones. They can’t both be National Velvet… This is the lottery of tulip growing.

And the one that didn’t…

My best friend got married in 2004. Her colour palette was pink and brown. I adored it. The brown, not the pink, obviously. I seem to remember there was also a little turquoise, but that seems mad, even for its time.

However, the big bins that I put right next to the furthest estate fencing are definitely giving off early millennium vibes. Absolutely not in a good way. I have said it before and I will say it again; pink tulips as single genus only. They do not play well with others.

Apricot beauty

Cairo

Cafe noir

Jan reus

(I don’t think the Cairos are out yet.)

My top three this year

The Belle époques that were in the greenhouse. For some reason, they flowered more openly and the colours, possibly bleached by the early spring sunshine, were so much more lovely.

Palmyra. Not red as promised (they never are), it’s purple. But still a great double.

Absalon. Also not the Absalon that I know, as in they aren’t properly broken. But they are finely detailed and I am obsessed. I carry them around the house with me sometimes, just to look at them, wherever I am.

 (Another reminder to take photos on your phone. You will think that you will remember when everything happened, you won’t. Your phone remembers everything tough.)

If you would like to read more about tulips and tulips growing, do have a read of Polly Nicholson’s interview. I am seriously considering only growing historical tulips this year, although only because Dom Pedro counts. I may even be persuaded to dig a trench.