The Alpine Gardener
ALPINE ANTHOLOGY
by Clandestina

John Richards at home, January 2004 PHOTO: SHEILA RICHARDS

Our new President
John Richards was born in Reading, Berkshire in 1943, son of Taliesin Richards, who became Reader in Microbiology at Reading University. Tal Richards, his mother Lucy and sister Betty Davey (also a bacteriologist) were keen natural historians, botanists and gardeners and John has been a natural historian as long as he can remember: he seems always to have had an innate urge to classify and identify things, starting with railway engines on “God’s Wonderful Railway” at the age of four, butterflies at seven, birds at ten and orchids by the time he was twelve.

From Leighton Park School, Reading (whose botanical head, John Ounsted, fostered his obsession with natural history), John went to University College, Durham, housed in Durham Castle. Here he was taught by, among others, David Bellamy who took him to the Alps for the first time and to the Polish Tatra. This encouraged John’s life-long love of mountains and their flowers, but he also learnt a lot about bogs! John’s undergraduate thesis was on hybridising dactylorhizas although the abiding research interest of two senior members of the Department, Jack Crosby and David Valentine, was, interestingly in the context of subsequent events, Primula.

Notwithstanding, John proceeded to study for his PhD at Durham on the control of apomixis (asexual reproduction by seed) in Taraxacum (dandelions). He couldn’t keep his taxonomic instincts entirely at bay however so, when he gained a Demonstratorship at Oxford in 1967, he spent much of his time pioneering a taxonomic study of British dandelions, to the displeasure of his Head of Department, Cyril Darl-ington. This project finally led to the definitive ‘Handbook of the Dandelions of Great Britain and Ireland’ (1997; coauthored with the late Andrew Dudman) in which more than 240 species are comprehensively described. Years later, his career-long interest in the evolution of plant mating systems led to the publication of another standard work, ‘Plant Breeding Systems’ (1986, second edition 1997), which is still in print.

While at Oxford John and his new wife Sheila moved to the village of Brill where they built a small rock garden. He joined the Oxford group of the Alpine Garden Society where his burgeoning interest was fostered by such luminaries as Primrose Warburg, Valerie Finnis and Muriel Hodgman. After three years John obtained a lectureship in Botany at the University of Newcastle, where he has been ever since, becoming Professor of Botany in 2002. John and Sheila built their second garden (and subsequently their third and fourth) in the small town of Hexham in the Tyne Valley where they raised three children, their son Peter and identical twin daughters Jackie and Kay.

John joined the North-East England Group of the AGS and SRGC in 1970, and became Secretary and Convenor in 1976. He became Chairman of that Group in 1979, and Secretary again (together with Sheila) in 2001. In 1974, Eric Watson initiated the first Joint AGS/SRGC Show in Ponteland and encouraged John to exhibit his first plants. These included Primula gracilipes, which started a passionate interest in Asiatic primulas, especially the Petiolarid Group. John studied these intensively for several years, resulting in a monograph of this section of the genus in 1977. At the same time his academic interest in the complex mating systems of primulas was aroused, which led to a major programme of work over the next 20 years involving five research students. His taxonomic and experimental work in Primula culminated in the publication of the monograph ‘Primula’ in 1993 (B.T. Batsford), with a second fully revised edition in 2003.

John has always considered his participation in the AGS Show scene as enthusiastic rather than particularly skilled, but this has not stopped him gaining a bar to his Gold Medal, becoming an AGS judge and an AGS representative on the Joint Rock Garden Committee of the RHS. For the last 14 years he has gardened on a twothird of an acre site on a cool, humid, north slope where he has been able to fulfil his particular enthusiasm for primulas, Meconopsis, woodland plants, rhododendrons and other ericaceous subjects, and has also built up a restricted collection of small trees. He has frames and an alpine house in which are grown a collection of bulbs, and he also enjoys experimenting with screes and raised beds. He takes particular pleasure in raising eclectic subjects from wild-collected seed.

Once his family started growing up, John had more freedom to travel, and for the last 22 years he has led over 30 tours (eight for the AGS), mostly to Europe and especially to Greece which he has visited nearly 40 times. At the start of 2003 he was delighted to be asked to lead a tour to New Zealand, a country which he had previously visited 24 years before! Since then he has been fortunate to be invited to many parts of the world and has also botanised in the mountains of Australia, China, USA, South Africa, Saudi Arabia, Malaysia as well as many parts of Europe, including Bulgaria: many of these travels have been written up for the AGS.

In 1999, John led the AGS seed collecting expedition (MESE) to relatively littleknown parts of northern Greece. This led to the introduction of some 300 species, many of which have since been trialled in the AGS Garden at Pershore. John first served on the AGS Committee in the late 1980s, and has served on two subsequent occasions, latterly as Chairman of Committee. He has also been coopted onto the Tours Committee for a number of years.

Californian Gem

An exposed granite dome in Yosemite National Park with Lewisia disepala in the foreground PHOTOS: DAVID KING

Many readers will be familiar with Half Dome, the pale granite, glaciated halfpeak, which is one of the great features of Yosemite National Park in California’s Sierra Nevada mountain range.

In the surrounding area there are a number of exposed granite domes 2000- 2600 m high, their bald tops showing above the tree line of the extensive pine forest, in fairly inaccessible places. Having discovered how to reach one of these domes, the walk up the smooth granite slope is easy, but it is hard to imagine a more inhospitable habitat for plants. Reach the rounded top, however, and it soon becomes apparent that there are low ridges and shallow depressions. In some of these, fine detritus and granite gravel collect and it is in this unique situation that Lewisia disepala grows.

From February to April, according to altitude and snowmelt, tiny fat cylindrical leaves and numerous flower buds start to emerge from the short thick caudex nestling in its gravel bed. At our particular site, on 31 March only the first few flowers were open, but later the plants can be covered in bloom, hiding the leaves which are only 1-2 cm long. The almost stemless flowers of L.disepala, around 3 cm in diameter, have six to eight petals in varying shades of pink.

It is a very small plant and because of its surface habitat, it is vulnerable on accessible sites to being crushed by the tyres of off-highway vehicles or by heavy hiking boots. It is also vulnerable to forest activities such as timber harvest or firebreak construction because the plants are not visible after flowering.

The California Native Plant Society and the US Forest Service take great care to watch over this tiny Lewisia and it occurs on their list which specifies ‘Plants Rare, Threatened or Endangered in California’ and elsewhere. It is sad to record that most of the plants on this list have declined significantly over the last century. Californian law also protects the plant by making it illegal to collect seed or remove plants. Accessible habits are checked by Forest Service botanists every year to monitor the progress of the crop of tiny plants.

Lewisia disepala in the Yosemite National Park

The flowering period is from March to June according to altitude and snow melt but once the seeds have dispersed, the plants virtually disappear and are nearly impossible to find. Botanical surveys over the past years have completely missed this plant, because it is identifiable for such a brief period. How this remarkable and desirable plant can ever get into cultivation under these strictures is difficult to envisage. If a pinch of seed ever became available, culture would be difficult indeed as the depth of granitic gravel/sand in which it grows is very shallow (mostly not more than12 mm) with the smaller roots seeking cracks in the granite. Moisture control in these conditions would be a challenge. In Roy Davidson’s book on lewisias he advises that L. disepala has ‘baulked’ at cultivation!
David King & Chris Norton

A response!
In a letter to the Editor, Don Lee writes: ‘You ask for short notes about useful methodologies (the science of methods) in the alpine gardener’s tool kit. A material that I have found extremely useful in the garden is the 20 cm (8 in) square steel mesh that issold by builders’ merchants for reinforcing concrete. This comes in 2.4 m (8 ft) by 4.8 m (16 ft) sheets but is easily cut into small pieces by a bolt cutter or a hacksaw. Pieces three squares wide and as many squares long as necessary are easily covered with galvanised wire netting to make lightweight, but strong, frame covers to keep birds, cats, squirrels and other nuisances off one’s plants.

If the bars of the mesh are cut at the mid points, useful stubs are left for poking into the soil, thus making a quickly demountable enclosure with four pieces secured at the corners with a twist of wire. Covered with a net, it keeps birds off my strawberries.
‘A’ frames, made from two whole sheets as purchased, secured with wire at the top to a one square wide strip and a two square wide strip at about one third to halfway up from the base, have served me for decades for growing beans, peas (sweet and edible), clematis and other climbing plants.

Secured to the inside of the roof of a greenhouse it is useful for hanging plants, and secured, but raised outside, it makes a good foundation for shade-netting. Herbaceous plant supports, compost frames, bonfire enclosures (the list goes on and on); altogether a very versatile material!

Lily Beetles in Norway
Following the anthological note in the March 2003 issue of The Alpine Gardener and the note in The Plantsman of December 2002 about lily beetles (Lilioceris lilii), I would like to record their spread to southern and western Norway. I first noticed a few of these bright red beetles in 2000 and in 2001 I had an epidemic that threatened my lilies and Fritillaria meleagris. An extermination campaign had no effect and they returned in force in 2002. Out of interest I counted how many adults I killed; a grand total of 428 with a maximum in the second week of May 2002. This mass murder seems to have had no effect on the population in my garden. This spring (2003) they returned in force and I exterminated more than 200 by mid-April. However, at the end of April (time of writing) the numbers have dropped dramatically, perhaps due to a change to cool wet weather or perhaps I hope, because there are no more left in the soil.

The species is probably a native of the eastern Mediterranean where it is controlled naturally by parasitic wasps. The wasps do not have such a wide climatic tolerance as the beetles, thus allowing the latter to become a major pest in northern Europe, including southern Britain. Their spread has been relatively slow since the first record in Surrey in 1940, but recently they have expanded their range to Scotland (2000) and Northern Ireland (2001). Lily beetles were reported from Montreal (Canada) in 1945 and around Boston (USA) in 1992, where they are now a major pest. Experiments are proceeding with the introduction of the European wasp predators as a biological control. Lily beetles are most probably spread by people distributing lily bulbs, rather than by natural migration, and they are likely to have reached Norway in this way. I must have bought some together with a lily bulb from the garden shop! Lily beetles have been seen in several gardens in the Bergen area and have also been found around Kristiansand and Arendal in southern Norway.

The slimy grubs, covered in their own excreta that resembles bird droppings, hatch from orange eggs in 7-10 days. After defoliating lily plants for about a month, they pupate in the soil. The adults emerge and feed, and then hibernate in the soil, poised for immediate mating the next spring. The beetles are said to be best controlled by hand-picking or insecticides: Andy Salisbury of the RHS Garden, Wisley, recommended Imidicloprid and Bifenthrin, of which the former is more persistent. Bio Provado Ultimate and Poysect are also mentioned. Informative web sites are:
The Royal Horticutural Society (http://www.rhs.org.uk/research/ project_pandd.asp)
Gardening Which (http://www.which.net/gardeningwhich/ advice/lilybeetle.html)
University of Rhode Island (http://www.concordma.com/ magazine/july98/lilyb.html)
Hilary Birks

The return of the native
Collectors of almost any persuasion, whether it be postage stamps, paintings or porcelain that they pursue and procure, are happiest when their acquisitions justify the bestowal of just two adjectives, ‘rare’ and ‘beautiful’. And so it is with many of those who prefer to position themselves in the more refined reaches of horticulture; anything that habitually carries an imprimatur such as ‘a very choice species almost unknown in gardens’/ ‘narrowly endemic and very rare in gardens’/ ‘offered for the first time, and restricted to a handful of sites’ is guaranteed to send their pulses racing.

Tecophilaea cyanocrocus in cultivation PHOTO: DOUG JOYCE

Bulb growers have a seeming predilection for such opulent, obscure exemplars, three of which come easily to mind, since they have all long been considered extinct in the wild. Narcissus cyclamineus, Tulipa sprengeri and Tecophilaea cyanocrocus have all been written off, supposed victims ofover-collection rather than habitat loss, surviving only in a zoolike environment by virtue of garden-grown stocks.

At the time of writing, no-one has rediscovered the northern Turkish tulip in situ, but a never say die attitude has led to the recent rediscovery of the other two species. Narcissus cyclamineus is now known to persist in a number of Portuguese localities, in the general area of Santiago de Compostella; its early flowering period, coupled with a lack of more recent fieldwork, explains its long-lasting status as a ‘collected to extinction’ species. This is its second resurgence; a similar rediscovery took place in 1885, following several centuries of obscurity.

Now we learn, thanks to the internet vigilance of Terry Teal (Ryton-on-Tyne), that Tecophilaea cyanocrocus has been relocated in Chile, over 50 years since it was pronounced extinct there.

Such news was conveyed in an article by its finders, M. Teresa Eyzaguirre and Rosario García de la Huerta, published in Gayana Bot. 59 (2): 73-77 (2002). In this, they describe how, while conducting a routine botanical mapping survey in the spring of 2001 (viz. autumn of that year in the northern hemisphere), a large but very localised population of the Chilean Blue Crocus was encountered at just over 2000 m, within 40 kilometres of Santiago, inhabiting an area no more than 20 x 50 m. Several illustrations accompany the article, one of them showing the tecophilaea in spectacular abundance on a level, stony site, which it is reported to share with a sparse covering of various spiny and hummock-forming shrubs, along with Calandrinia affinis and Barneoudia major. The density of this stand is estimated at 30-50 corms per square metre, in clumps of 5-20; the colony is said to be somewhat aberrant, in that generally the blooms have an extensive white ‘eye’, approaching but not analogous with stocks long cultivated under the varietal name leichtlinii. In just three examples, the flowers were pure white. The exact location is not revealed (although apparently anyone familiar with the mountains thereabouts could take a well-aimed guess); other populations at lower altitudes have also been mythologised, but not substantiated to date.

Plenty of people go in search of plants in any given year, the preponderance of them focusing on the same areas, in the same season; only a relative handful are prepared to countenance drawing a ‘blank’ by visiting outside the main season, or by striking out to survey less easily reached, sometimes hitherto unvisited destinations. Once in a while, such enterprise pays off handsomely.
Robert Rolfe

Carnivorous Tastes
Several of Europe’s butterworts, Pinguicula grandiflora in particular, have a long history in cultivation. Though not always ‘alpine’ in their choice of habitat, they certainly look the part. The same cannot be said of Europe’s bladderworts (Utricularia spp.), fellow members of the Lentibulariaceae but aquatic plants one and all, equipped with traps a few millimetres long enabling them to imprison and imbibe the minute creatures that teem in bogs and expanses of still water.

Utricularia alpina in cultivation PHOTO:ROBERT ROLFE

In other parts of the world, the genus Utricularia is far more diverse, and includes in its ranks numerous species that favour level, marshy ground, damp rocks and cloudy summits; a few are epiphytic. Several from the southern hemisphere, varying in size from the jewel-like U. bisquamata and U. livida to the much larger, blue-flowered U. longifolia, can be enjoyed on the flower show exhibits of carn-ivorous plant nurseries, generally planted amid moss tussocks. Around two dozen species are currently obtainable from such sources (the count for the genus stands at 221), none of them suitable for open ground cultivation, given their intolerance of frost and general need for a continuously humid en-vironment.

In a cool greenhouse, however, or better still one with a mist unit, some of these non-aquatic bladderworts are well worth attempting. Specialists sometimes use a terrarium. One or two species have been grown, off and on, in orchid collections since the mid nineteenth century (their exotic flowers led to them being mistakenly classified in this family). In case you are wondering why they should receive mention in The Alpine Gardener, well, some of them are indisputably mountain plants.

The promisingly-named Utricularia alpina is one of the most widespread of these, both in cultivation and in the wild (where it can be found from the West Indies to Brazil, Venezuela and, in all probability, northernmost Colombia). In Trinidad it occurs not far above sea level; elsewhere an altitude span of 500-1500 m is usual, with occurrences up to 2500 m in Venezuala’s Guayana Highland region, home to several of the showiest species. While unaware of the provenance of the material presently grown, I was surprised to learn that this stock (with opulent white, yelloweyed flowers 4.5 cm across) is comparatively demure; the corolla can be as much as 6 cm, and rarely pale pink, rather than virginal. The orchid-like spikes, anything up to 40 cm long, but often only half this figure, carry between one to four flowers that in the wild have been recorded for every month of the year. (In cultivation, a late spring to high summer period is usual, the individual blooms often lasting several weeks.) The common name for some of the smaller species, ‘fairies aprons’, evokes an idea of the overall, lip-dominated appearance.

Sometimes found on mossy tree trunks in rain forests, sometimes finding a niche in wet rock crevices or banksides, it forms clumps of apple green lanceolate leaves and spreads by stolons up to 20 cm long. Propagation is by division, or from seed: according to the Peter Taylor’s standard work ‘The genus Utricularia — a taxonomic monograph’ (Kew Bulletin Additional Series xiv, 1989) the average seed count per capsule for U. alpina is 3000. A frost-free, humid environment and rain water (tap water, with or without fluoride, is not appreciated) are the main pre-requisites of successful cultivation. A compost based an orchid bark, mixed with an equal volume of sand and laced with Perlite, is recommended, standing the pot on a saucer of damp gravel in a shady spot; a north or east-facing bathroom windowsill, perhaps? This and other epiphytic species are normally sold with a topdressing of sphagnum moss, through which the white, branching stolons of the bladderwort can run.

Some species are more exuberant still; U. campbelliana, which belongs to the same section (Orchioides) and comes from northern Brazil and adjacent Venezuela, has orange-red flowers 1.5-3.5 cm across and is thought to be humming bird pollinated. But the all-comers’ prize goes to a more distantly-related species, U. humboldtii, whose inflorescences can be over a metre tall and carry 5-16 blue-violet flowers that measure 5-7 cm top to bottom, and up to 10 cm wide across the lip. Among its habitat preferences a rarefied one is listed (the leaf axils of bromeliads); apparently it was at one time grown at RBG Kew, although in more prosaic surroundings.

These plants, as with the dwarf species of Dendrobium and Rhododendron from the high mountains of Papua New Guinea, hover rather uncomfortably on the fringes of alpine cultivation, and are at present the province of other groups of specialist gardeners are considerable.
Robert Rolfe

Chionocharis hookeri on the Baima Shan, NW Yunnan PHOTO: HARRY JANS

Chionocharis hookeri

The genus Chionocharis contains a single species. C. hookeri, formerly known as Eritrichium hookeri, which tops of my list of the most beautiful alpines that I have seen in the wild. However, to see it in its native haunts you do have to make an effort because it is only found at elevations over 4600 m.

The distribution of this plant, a member of the family of Boraginaceae, ranges from E Nepal to SW China. I have seen it on several occasions on the Baima Shan (White Horse Mountain) in NW Yunnan at between 4600-4850 m, growing on exposed ledges, unprotected from the elements, generally between granite boulders and rubble that is covered by a thick layer of snow in winter: on 16 June 1998 a large number of plants were still covered by a thick pack of snow. The consequence is that the plant must grow, flower and set seed all within a very short period.

In general it rather resembles Myosotis pulvinaris, but has blue Eritrichium-like flowers. Hence it is also called the “Chinese Eritrichium”. The extremely hairy rosettes are placed very closely together, each with a diameter of 4-6 mm. In misty weather the dew sticks to the hairs and the cushions appear to be covered in pearls, an absolutely stunning sight. If, in addition, it then starts to freeze (which often happens at these altitudes, even in summer), a thin coating of ice forms on the plant: this undoubtedly helps protect plants from the extreme cold and from drying out, as it is nearly always windy where it grows.

Chionocharis hookeri; Baima Shan, June 1998 PHOTO: HARRY JANS

Cushions can reach a diameter of over 40 cm, but most are from 10 to 20 cm. The deep sky-blue flowers have a yellow ‘eye’, like Eritrichium nanum, and are borne singly from the centre of each rosette; they are stemless and sometimes change colour to a greyish-pink at maturity.

As with many cushion plants that have sessile flowers, the fruits are to be found right in the middle of the leafrosettes. Collecting them is a time-consuming activity because they are extremely difficult to locate, generally being concealed by new leaf growth. On the ACE expedition we looked for seeds for about an hour (even using a pair of tweezers) but, despite a diligent search, only managed to find a single one: seeds are dark grey and irregularly angular in shape, about 1.5 mm long.

In an attempt to reintroduce this plant into cultivation (a very few plants were, at one stage, grown from a Nepalese collection made by the late George Smith) dead parts of some of the cushions were removed and taken back in the autumn of 1994. These were then taken apart and dried, sieved and sown after only the larger pieces had been removed. This resulted in a ‘harvest’ of six seedlings in the spring of 1995. To spread the risk these were divided among a number of enthusiasts in the hope that somewhere a plant might survive into the following year; however, unfortunately, the winter of 1996 took its toll and all the seedlings died.

It might be that some cuttings from a later introduction are still alive. If so, I would very much like to be informed, because this is undoubtedly a very eyecatching and exciting high alpine.
Harry Jans

Saxifraga ‘Monarch’ (above and below), formerly and invalidly known as S. longifolia ‘Imperialis’ PHOTOS: ADRIAN YOUNG

Saxifraga ‘Monarch’

This is a new cultivar name for Saxifraga longifolia ‘Imperialis’, an invalid name since research to date indicates that is unlikely that this plant has any connection withthat species. I first grew S. ‘Monarch’ when I was in charge of the saxifrage collection at Waterperry Horticultural Centre around 1990. I then re-encountered it in 1995 while working with David Victor at the Old Stables Nursery in Leighton Buzzard. Apart from its distinct appearance, it impressed various observers primarily because it grew well in garden conditions and flowered regularly year after year. Despite the old name, it is not connected to the hybrid S. x imperialis, raised at St Petersburg Botanic Garden (syn. S. x superba = S. longifolia x cotyledon) and probably lost to cultivation some 50 years ago. A valuable garden plant of unknown provenance, it grows quickly without becoming untidy, forming a cushion up to 30 cm across in just three years (my plant had eight inflorescences in its third year!). It is likely that S. cotyledon is one of the parents.

Description: Plant forming a loose, semi-domed cushion. Rosettes to 40 mm across, with stiff, erect leaves, expanding to 70 mm in the flowering rosettes. Leaves dark, shiny green above, with no limeencrustations, to 54 x 10 mm, linear to oblong, with a blunt apex, the margin dentate with a small sunken pore in the top surface of each tooth; leaves of flowering rosettes enlarging to 85 x 10 mm. Flower stem (rachis) green with some fine glandular hairs, to 60 cm tall, typically with about 25 branches, each bearing 2-3 flowers on short pedicels. Corolla vaseshaped, about 18 mm diameter; petals about 10 x 4 mm, obovate, not overlapping, white with red spots in the lower half.
Adrian Young

Lightweight Troughs
Polystyrene fish boxes have recently become popular for alpine troughs, usually covered in hypertufa, or just painted. The disadvantages are that the hypertufa can be messy and hard work to apply, whereas merely painting will leave the trough looking like a fish box. Troughs can easily be made to a preferred shape and size using 50 mm (2 in) thick insulation slabs which are available cheaply from builder’s merchants. A standard size of 1200 x 450 mm will make two small troughs 325 x 280 x 180 mm high.

Mark out the shapes required accurately and saw out the base and sides using a hacksaw blade; by far the best method. Do this outdoors; polystyrene bits get everywhere!

Lay the shapes for the trough onto the floor and apply a generous amount of PVA glue in strips 50 mm wide, as shown in figure 1.

Assemble the trough by lifting the ends first and then the sides into place, pressing them all carefully together, then with pressure at the bottom of the sides, tip the trough onto its side. Put a weight on it to hold it all together and leave to cure for two or three days. See figure 2.

To make the trough look natural, use a sharp knife roughly to round off the sharp corners and edges. Then, to make the flat sides look more natural, use a gas blowtorch and/or a soldering iron very carefully to mark and ‘distress’ them. Do this outside, as the fumes are very unpleasant. If you use a gas gun, keep it moving fairly quickly, for it is all too easy to melt the polystyrene.

The trough is then ready to be painted with masonry paint. Use a variety of colours and textures, possibly adding sand, either in the paint or dusted on top. Apply a few coats of different shades thinned down with water to give a pleasing result.

Finally, cut a few drainage holes in the base with a sharp knife and your trough is ready for planting up, will be light enough to move around the garden or into the greenhouse for the winter.

Ed. We are grateful to Edward Barraclough for permission to use the above article from the August 2003 issue of the West Yorkshire AGS Group Newsletter. Regrettably, the essential diagrams failed to travel by e-mail!

And finally..........
A Somerset Member writes a chatty letter to the Editor, in which she would like to tell him how much she enjoys articles written by Professor John Richards - ‘the way he writes is a pleasure to read and cheers me up so much’. A pat on the back for our new President and a reminder that he must write some more, in between answering letters, possibly of complaint, from other Members.

Margaret continues: ‘I have just enjoyed reading Rick Lambert’s ‘Tools of the Trade’ (June 2003) and wonder if what I do is of any use to members: ‘I write the name of the plant on the label with a black eyeliner pencil and then go over it very carefully with clear nail varnish - it looks good to me, but then again, my eyesight is not so good any more.’

She then goes on with some hints for the Editor: more pictures of houseleeks, for instance, or an article on Mammillaria cacti. This I fear, madam, would not go down well in purist AGS circles, for they come from mainly non-alpine areas of Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela and the Caribbean region and some even need a heated greenhouse! Advice is then asked getting rid of ants: she uses Bio Sprayday Plus, but it washes off in the rain and is technically for greenfly, anyway. There are, however, a number of proprietary powders that can simply be squirted on to moving ants; taking the powder back into the nest, they infect the rest of their colleagues.

Our lady friend has an animosity towards rabbits. Whilst being cross with them eating her alpine flowers, she would nevertheless enjoy one in a stew! As she raises most of her alpines from seed, she can be justifiably aggrieved with the behaviour of this member of the Rodentia. In fact, if anyone is partial to rabbit stew, she invites you to the Quantocks (presumably with your shotgun) as she cannot find out where to get traps.

Sieves for seed, we are asked about, as an ordinary kitchen sieve or the plastic tea strainer have proved ineffective. The trouble is, dozens would be needed to cope with the wide range of seed sizes!

And finally our correspondent wishes that the Society could ‘do’ videos on alpines. I seem to recall that some were undertaken in the 1970s and 1980s, which were not particularly successful. Perhaps the current Committee could come up with some ideas?

So, finally, thank you Margaret for your letter, which, we hope will encourage others to pass on advice and practical suggestions.