Never mind poinsettias. This season's fashion is to put twigs in everything, writes Jane Powers
Last month my local supermarket had a couple of dozen poinsettia plants lined up outside, flashing their cheery, cherry-red bracts at passing shoppers. For a moment I felt like stationing myself next to the red army of Yuletide plants with a placard saying: "Their end is nigh! Don't buy!" Poinsettias, you see, have their origins in Mexico, and are raised only as glasshouse crops in this part of the world. Exposing them to cold November weather in Ireland is guaranteed to lead to calamity within a week or two: usually dropped leaves and a bald plant - which is not very Christmassy.
So, when you buy your seasonal poinsettia, go to a reputable garden centre where they know about these things. And when you're transporting it through the open air, make sure it's protected by a polythene sleeve, at the very least. As for persuading poinsettias to flower for a second year, it's an awful lot of work, and the resulting blooms may be disappointing (but if you're determined, there's plenty of advice on the internet).
I'm only now learning to like these brash, highly-manipulated plants, but I can't help admiring the enthusiasm with which they blast out red at this time of the year. (There are pink, peach and white poinsettias, too, but they're far too sophisticated for me.)
If you want bursts of red for outdoors, then the potted cyclamens that are on sale in garden centres now are the plants to have. These are hybrids of the Mediterranean and north African Cyclamen persicum, but despite their warm-climate provenance they are happy in pots of well-drained compost here. Besides crimson, there are pink and white kinds - with the latter generally having the most scent. Cyclamen can be rather squat plants for window-sill or balcony containers, but you can add a bit of height by artistically shoving some twigs into the compost. Use contorted willow, or coloured-stemmed Salix alba, or even birch twigs painted white with some leftover emulsion, for a wintry feel.
WHAT'S IN FOR CHRISTMAS?
"Twigs in everything" is the fashion this Christmas, according to Carol Bone, who decorates Farmleigh and other august venues each year. This season's colours are black, white and silver, which may look more comfortable in corporate-style schemes and in modern houses and apartments than they would in regular family homes. Silver glitter and bling are in, but tinsel is still out. Pink was in, but is no longer, and black candles are de rigueur. That's for the haute people. If you prefer a more traditional look, says Bone, there are "lovely fussy things: organza, pearls, feathers, crystals and glass decorations". And for Christmas floral artistry, "there is a move back to garden plant material", she says.
As it happens, all my swag and wreath material is gleaned from my garden (or from those of friends), no matter what fashion dictates. So, like the broken clock that is correct twice a day, I'm right up to the minute this season.
THE CHRISTMAS WREATH
If you're in a hurry don't even think of making your own wreath. But if you feel like an evening of old-fashioned festive craftiness, then clear off the kitchen table, fire up Lyric FM on the radio, and off you go. Or, rather, off you went the day before - to collect greenery, twiggery, berries and cones. The foliage from cypress, fir, juniper, spruce, cedar, pine and other conifers is popular, but any evergreen foliage, including ivy, can be fashioned into a wreath. It can be fun experimenting with unusual shrubs, such as the Australian purple hop bush (Dodonaea viscosa 'Purpurea') that we've used this year. When you've picked the foliage, "condition" it by standing it overnight in buckets of water. This allows it to take up moisture and last longer. Ivy can be conditioned in the bath.
A word here on holly (seeing as we're talking about its song mate, ivy): don't collect it from the wild. Parts of the country are entirely denuded of the red-berried female trees because of illegal felling at Christmas time. Our ancestors appreciated the value of our woodland species: in the Brehon laws, the penalty for removing a branch of holly (one of the nobles of the wood) was a one-year-old heifer. If you are foraging for Yuletide decorations in a forest or woodland, don't help yourself to anything that is stuck to a tree or shrub: take only what's lying on the ground.
Wreaths made from a single species of foliage, or where a fine foliage is contrasted with a broader kind, are smarter than those with loads of different leaf-shapes. But anything goes. And if younger members of the family are involved, it's best to let aesthetics take a back seat: the more things you can jam into a wreath the more entertaining it is to make.
The least fussy way of making a wreath is to use a floral foam ring (available in some garden centres and florists). Hydrate it by floating it upside down in a basin of water for about three minutes. It will retain the moisture longer if you then wrap it in cling film or in strips cut from a plastic dry-cleaning bag. Tie a ribbon or cord around the top of the foam, so you can hang it over a door or on a hook. Stick springs of foliage into it, about 10cm long (depending on the species), making sure that they are lying at a pleasing angle. Work methodically, starting with the outer edge of the ring, then the face, finally filling in the interior.
You can add interesting accents with berries or fruits (wrap their stems with florists' wire and insert in the foam). Red ones, such as holly, skimmia, rose hips or even chillies, are particularly seasonal.
Ivy berries are lime green or black, depending on how mature they are - and they don't mind being spritzed with a bit of gold or silver paint. Cones, of course, are always Christmassy, and dried seed heads are very decorative if spray-painted - or even left in their natural state.
You can add flowers, either fresh or dried (such as chintz- coloured hydrangea heads), or even make an entire wreath from blooms.
Twigs, as I mentioned, are quite the thing. So you can make an elegant twisty ring of them (of willow, birch, dogwood or hazel) and garnish with bits and pieces. Or you can pop them into a foliage wreath to add texture and colour, as we've done this year.