Daphne odora

For many years now the Old Bat and I - together with the children when they were children - have spent Easter on my cousin's farm a few miles from Bristol. One year we commented on the delightful perfume coming from a plant near the front door and were told the plant was daphne odora. With the moving around of the Easter holiday we did not get to enjoy this scent every year but, after we had done so on several occasions, I determined to track down a plant for our own garden. I discovered that daphne is not always tolerant of a chalky soil - which we certainly have - but reckoned that a large tub filled with ericaceous compost would probably suit - if I could find the plant to out in it. I scoured every garden centre and nursery for miles around and ordered all the catalogues I saw advertised but to no avail. Nobody seemed to have even heard of the wonderfully perfumed plant. Then I heard of a small nursery in Scotland (they decided to place an ad in the newspaper I worked for) which actually had them. I ordered a plant, which failed to arrive. When I advised the grower of the non-delivery, he sent two. One of these has since given up the ghost, but the other is still going strong. Every year, at about this time, I cut two or three sprigs which sit in a small jug on the kitchen table. Opening the kitchen door first thing in the morning releases not only the dog but also the heady scent of the the daphne whose pale pink flowers have come out in the warmth.