Update: I’ve re – run the prize draw as Fiona hasn’t got back to me at all. The new winner is Natalia Clarke at Luckybees. enjoy the book Natalia!
The winner of the prize draw for Susie White’s gorgeous new book, Second Nature is Fiona Pryor. Please e mail me for details, Fiona. My e mail is k.gimson@btinternet.com.
Thank you to everyone who read the review and left a comment. You can read the review here:
Meanwhile, some photos from my garden this weekend. Spring has been a long time coming, and now I can’t bear to be indoors. Every minute is spent in the garden!
Potting shed window. Scented jonquils and forget me nots. Pheasant’s Eye narcissi. Possibly Narcissi Geranium. Wonderful scent. Reliable grower. Always comes back every year and naturalises in long grass.
Tulip Mondial. A lovely double white with green markings. Long lasting flower. Stands up to the weather. Copes with the rain.
Some tiny species tulips growing in an Italian pot. Part of a mixed cut flower collection from Gee Tee Bulbs. Species bulbs will always come back the following year. Bulbs do not have to grow to such a huge size as the Dutch bulbs to re-flower the next year.
A hybrid ‘cowslip.’ A bee has passed pollen from my red primroses to a yellow wild cowslip- and the resulting seedling is this little beauty. Isn’t nature wonderful!
Thank you for reading my blog. Look back for more book reviews and giveaways next week. Have a great Sunday!
Among the 9,000 snowdrops on display at Barnsdale Gardens is this beautiful semi-double variety with long, thin pointed outer segments. Isn’t she a beauty! Such a pretty name too, ‘Starling.’ I spotted it right at the start of our winter walk-and-talk event hosted by Barnsdale owner Nick Hamilton. Once seen, never forgotten. I’m not much of a galanthophile, but Starling captivated me. Such an unusual snowdrop with dark green inner segments and a lovely growth habit, having flowers that tilt upwards which means you don’t have to get down on your hands and knees to appreciate them.
Many of the special snowdrops are displayed in a raised bed surrounded by gravel. Rain doesn’t splash them with mud. Heavy rain has been such a problem this winter and many snowdrops in my garden have either been swamped or munched by slugs. I hadn’t thought of growing them in this way, but I might try it out in a spare corner of the garden.
Galanthus Hippolyta is also thriving and forming a good substantial clump. This is one of the Greatorex doubles, ‘beautifully formed with rounded bells, filled with green edged petticoats’ says the information on a five-page fact sheet supplied by the gardens. All the snowdrops are carefully and clearly labelled and the fact sheet is a great help with identifying all the different varieties.
Hippolyta Galanthus Madeline. Another pretty, robust, recommended variety.
Snowdrops are just one of the attractions in the Winter Border. This garden was created in memory of Nick’s father Geoff Hamilton who presented the BBC Gardeners World show from the site until his death in 1996.
Salix Britzensis
Paths are lined with evergreens, scented plants, and trees and shrubs with colourful bark for winter interest.
Salix Basfordiana
The beauty of having a walk- and-talk tour is seeing the plot through expert’s eyes, and picking up hints and tips on cultivation. Nick explains that these beautiful willows produce the best colour on new stems. Plants will be pruned virtually to the ground or to a low stump so that new stems will grow for next winter’s display.
Willows certainly make a design statement, and Nick advises to plant them where the sun shines through them to highlight their bright colours.
Whereas the willows are quite drastically trimmed, Nick advises a more selective approach for pruning these dogwoods. I have similar Cornus Midwinter Fire, and carefully trim back the side shoots and gently shape up the plants. Cornus Westonbirt which has bright red stems are pruned virtually to the ground, but these orange-stemmed dogwoods take a long time to recover if pruned too severely.
Information boards are posted throughout the garden which help our understanding of the reasoning behind the plantings.
It was fascinating to walk around the garden spotting all the trees, shrubs, bulbs and perennials donated to the memorial garden. Gordon Rae is a good friend of the family, and mine, and his name crops up several times with collections of different snowdrops, for example. I noticed trees from Hilliers and plants from TV and radio gardener Martin Fish- among many others.
I particularly love this view of the bandstand and terracotta urn.
New colourful growth on Sorbaria Sem- a compact, thicket-forming shrub for late winter and spring interest.
Winter flowering cherries also looking very cheerful and brighten up a cold wet day.
This little Iris Harmony pops up in patches all over the garden.
Nick Hamilton took over the garden when Geoff died and has continued to plant and develop the plot. There are 38 individual gardens over an 8 acre site.
We continued the tour through the Woodland garden, and on to the impressive vegetable plots where courses are held throughout the year on growing fruit and vegetables and pruning. The gardens are run along organic lines, as Geoff set out to do. Nick continues to grow organically without chemicals and with wildlife in mind.
Nick explains how fruit trees can be grown in small spaces by choosing dwarfing rootstocks and by pruning.
These espalier fruit trees take up little space and form an attractive shape throughout the year. There will be blossom in spring and apples and pears in late summer.
These small fruit trees are part of the Dan Pearson cottage garden.
I couldn’t resist a peep inside that beautiful little greenhouse.
I found scented pelargoniums, some still in flower in February.
And succulents and cacti, alongside trays of seedlings growing on for planting out later in spring.
I must mention the cafe, which served a very tasty and substantial cooked breakfast before our tour. I don’t usually eat a hot breakfast, but tried the vegetarian menu and can highly recommend it. A lovely warm start to a few hours spent walking around the gardens. And there was just time to try the tea and cakes at the end of our tour! It would have been rude not to sample them! The lemon sponge is divine!
For more information on Nick’s walk and talks and other events through the year take a look at the website here:
I’ll be going back for more events. There’s plenty on offer for Mother’s Day on 10th March and Easter between 29th March and 1st April (including Easter egg hunts for children). The gardens open all year round, only closing at Christmas, 24th, 25th and 26th December.
Note: I was invited to this event as a guest. I’ve given my honest review of the morning. I can highly recommend the ‘walk and talk’ events. A lovely breakfast followed by a wander around a beautiful garden is just what’s needed after such a cold, dark, wet winter, just as the garden is starting to wake up and shine. I feel invigorated to add much more colour to my own plot. And I’m searching for that very pretty snowdrop.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this ‘winter tour’ of Barnsdale Gardens. Have any of you visited in winter? I’ve only ever visited in summer before, so it was a revelation how much there’s to see. Get in touch and share your favourite part of Barnsdale. I haven’t even mentioned the Paradise Garden! That will wait for next time….
A morning of inspiring photos of gardens due to open for the NGS really warmed my heart and set me up for getting out and about visiting special places again. Here’s some photos of gardens due to open over the winter. These were highlighted as part of the NGS’s 2024 launch event yesterday. I must say, thinking of all these lovely garden views and beautiful flowers really cheered me up. I hope they do the same for you too!
Photos: Liz Mitchell
Bucklow Farm in Cheshire opens on 25th Feb. This special, country garden has been created over 30 years. There’s a herb garden,veg plot, meadow and wildlife pond, and is especially well known for its winter flowering displays.
Thousands of snowdrops underplant the special trees, shrubs and roses.
Hellebores especially do well at Bucklow Farm. The address is Pinfold Lane, Plumley, Cheshire, WA16 9RP. Check all dates, times and details before travelling.
Higher Cherubeer, Dolton, Devon. One and three quarter acres of gardens with 400 varieties of snowdrop and the national collection of cyclamen species.
There are around 100 snowdrop and spring-flowering gardens opening for the National Garden Scheme this year.
Over the whole year, 3,372 are scheduled to open. 575 are new to the NGS. 333 gardens are returning to the charity after a break. Nearly 1,000 gardens open ‘by arrangement’ where groups and individuals can arrange a visit at a mutually-agreed time for an exclusive tour of the garden. 2,681 offer refreshments, and 1,682 welcome dogs (very much appreciated by our spaniel Meg- who doesn’t like being left at home).
It was absolutely heartening to hear that 2023 was a record-breaking year for the NGS enabling them to give away £3.4 million to cancer care and other health and well-being charities. The NGS has been helping Macmillan cancer support for 40 years and has donated almost £20 million to them during this time. Personally, our friends and relatives have benefited from this care and we are truly grateful to the wonderful nurses at Macmillan. Many of you will also know that my youngest daughter is a nurse and my eldest daughter also worked for a children’s hospice. So I’m fully behind the NGS as they are a powerful and staunch supporter of nurses.
On a cold January day, there’s nothing more exciting than sitting in on a zoom launch event highlighting all the fabulous places set to open for the National Garden Scheme this year. I want to visit them all! In particular, I’m looking forward to visiting Sarah Price’s plot which is opening for the first time for the NGS. Sarah’s garden, The Chain, opens as part of the Chapel Gardens Group in Gwent on 14 and 15th June.
The Chain is a two acre walled garden which Sarah has created over the past nine years. Habitats include a pond, meadow, recycled sand and gravel planting areas, damp shade, and dry shade under mature oak trees. Anyone who saw last year’s Chelsea flower show couldn’t fail to be captivated by Sarah’s show garden which featured drifts of Benton End irises. I’m really excited to see what she’s growing in her own plot.
Sarah’s plot is just one of a series of designers’ gardens opening this year.
Photo copyright: Andrew Lawson
The Barn at Serge Hill, Hertfordshire, is Tom Stuart-Smith’s garden which is opening for its 30th year for the NGS on 2nd June. I visited last summer, and the courtyard garden, pictured above, is beautifully- planted with blue salvia ‘Amethyst’ and yellow euphorbia seguieriana subs. niciana. Unusual trees, yellow-flowering Genista aetnensis, add height to the courtyard and their reflections to the long, thin water trough features.
Photo copyright: Andrea Jones
The surrounding prairie meadows are full of bees and butterflies. Many ideas to glean for planting combinations. In the foreground there’s Echincea, Eryngium yuccifolium, and Silphium laciniatum (compass plant). Plants tower over you as you walk along the twisting paths.
Quite a unique idea is the Plant Library at Serge Hill. It’s a great way to see the height and spread of plants, as well as their growth habit.
Photos copyright: Val Corbett
Another garden I’m hoping to see is Grendon Court, Hereford, designed by Tom Stuart-Smith and opening 2nd June and 15th September. You can see Tom’s trademark herbaceous borders,including drifts of long-flowering plants, grasses and focal point topiary.
Teepees of climbing roses and deep pink peonies complement the barn walls.
Another view of the striking topiary at Grendon Court. Enticing glimpses of colour in the background.
Walk around the corner, and this is the colourful border, perfectly planted with salvia, euphorbia grasses and lupins. Note the repeated use of blue salvia which draws the eye along the border. A masterclass in planting techniques!
I was delighted to hear that 2023 was the NGS’s most successful year ever, with £4 million being raised for health and nursing charities. 3,372 gardens are opening this year. More than 500 new gardens are joining in. Nearly 1,000 gardens are opening ‘by arrangement’ where you can book a time to visit at mutual convenience and look around a garden at your leisure. I’m really hoping that 2024 proves to be another record-breaking year. So many cancer charities in particular benefit from the NGS support, and there are few of us who haven’t had a relative or friend needing cancer treatment of some kind. And personally, several of my relatives have benefited from the much-needed care of the Macmillan nurses. The NGS support a whole host of other nursing and health-related charities too. Check them out on the website:
Photo; Anna Omiotek-Tott . The Manor House, Ayot St Lawrence, Herts. 18th/ 19th May. Designed by Julie Toll.
Have you heard of the National Garden Scheme? I do still come across a few people when I give garden club talks who haven’t heard. Please spread the word. Are any of you planning to visit favourite open gardens- or planning to investigate new ones this year? Do get in touch and let me know!
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Dried flower heads on hydrangea paniculata hybrid.
Welcome! I garden on a one acre plot in north Leicestershire. Most of the garden is planted with native trees and shrubs. There’s a small pond, a mini water meadow full of marsh marigolds and lady’s smock, a small vegetable plot, greenhouse and poly tunnel. I grow as many flowers, fruit and veg as I can in containers and small divided beds. I aim to have something to pick from the garden every week of the year. This post is for my mum who can’t easily visit at the moment and the photos give her a flavour of what the garden looks like today. You are welcome to join me on a slow stroll around the plot as I seek out anything cheerful at this time of the year!
When there are plenty of flowers around, these cyclamen hederifolium barely get a second glance, but in January when everything is bare, the patterns on the leaves draw me in. I love moving from one plant to another comparing the intricate markings. No two plants are the same.
These grey-leaved cyclamen coum shine out in the shade under the ash trees. Soon they will have dainty white or bright pink flowers.
These are just starting to flower and there’s plenty of buds to open. They thrive under deciduous trees, flowering before the leaf canopy emerges.
I found some small brunnera plants. These have blue forget-me-not flowers in spring. They grow in deep shade alongside the cyclamen.
Arum italicum can be a thug, spreading all over the garden. But in deep shade, it is fairly well-behaved. It has bright orange berries and creamy white spathes. Good foliage for jam jar flowers.
Wild primroses are starting to push up through the leaf litter all over the plot. They seed about freely and provide pollen for early-emerging bumble bees.
When there’s not much to see, grasses provide a ‘stop and stare’ moment by the pond. These are beautiful all year round, and especially on a windy day.
I’ve never seen eranthis hyemalis flowering so early. Temperatures have been well above average all winter, but it’s also been extremely wet and most of the flower borders are under water again today. 2023 saw the wettest July to December period on record for the UK. Records started in 1890. With the ground already waterlogged, the recent rain has caused massive flooding in our area. The River Trent in Nottinghamshire burst its banks. Homes and businesses have been flooded out. It’s heartbreaking to see so much damage. So I won’t complain about my garden. It will drain away naturally and all will be well. Luckily I’ve taken cuttings of all the salvias and penstemons that are currently waterlogged, so there’s a back up plan if they don’t survive.
Shrugging off the wet weather, hellebores are starting to flower. These came from John Massey’s Ashwood Nursery near Birmingham. Some of these have been under water this week, with just the flower buds bobbing about in the air.
Early flowering snowdrops looking slightly muddy. Mrs Macnamara is a reliable variety and bulks up fairly quickly. Luckily it’s a very tall snowdrop – and as you can see, survives a few days under water. I think we can say it’s definitely robust!
The wildflower patch- now a bog! Luckily the greenhouse and poly tunnel are on higher ground. We have had to check for stranded goldfish as this area is alongside our pond.
Anyway, today there was sunshine. And the top of the willow trees look golden against a bright blue sky. A moment of joy after all that rain. Tiny grey pussy willow buds are starting to show. And there’s catkins on hazel and alder trees.
Monty is a good barometer for the weather. He’s been hibernating indoors during the rain. But today he emerged and set upon the straddle stone as a watch-out post, keeping his paws perfectly dry. Now as I write this he’s back in front of the fire, and I’ve checked the weather reports. Snow is forecast!
Snow will look pretty atop these black rudbeckia seed heads. I leave them for natural bird food and structure over winter.
I’ve left the flat sedum heads too. I just can’t call them by their new name. Hylotelephinium sounds like a type of outdated phone rather than an ice plant!
Some feverfew seed heads remain. Nothing spectacular, but I feel like accepting any tiny glimmer of beauty at the moment. It’s a quiet time, and I’m not being too fussy. Just grateful.
Eryngium Miss Willmott’s Ghost, looking more ghostly than usual. Looking closely, I found a ladybird and a lacewing, headfirst, nestled between the seeds. Peacefully may they slumber until spring.
Well, even I admit these are ugly, but there’s a certain something in those dark brown seeds emerging from the peony lutea pods. They glisten like amber in sunshine. Mum grew some plants from these and they flowered for the first time last summer. Seven years after sowing!
Planted underneath, in deep shade, there’s plenty of Skimmia Kew Green. Such a gorgeous scent in spring. Much overlooked in modern planting plans.
A quick peek in the greenhouse. Always plenty of gorgeously-scented pelargoniums and citrus. Sadly, the big white patch at the end is polythene patching the glass due to storm damage just after Christmas. A big end panel will have to be replaced. And then a careful clear up as there are shards of glass in every plant pot.
However, still seeking joy – I found a ladybird in an aonium.
And some pretty fuchsia leaves looking healthy in amongst the lemon trees.
A hairy, peppermint-scented pelargonium. To rub these leaves is to be transported.
There’s new shoots. Daffodils for cut flowers soon.
And food. Herbs such as thyme, marjoram, parsley, and micro greens. These are pak choi, sown in October. They can be eaten as tiny leaves now, or left to grow on. I take the leaves from the outsides, and the centre continues to grow.
Hens enjoy the heat in the greenhouse over winter too. They are only bantams, so don’t cause any damage and search out pests most assiduously, particularly vine weevils.
A ceramic bird I couldn’t resist. Bought from The Green Man in Staunton Harold. See my post on a pre-Christmas visit to Calke Abbey and Staunton Harold. Recommended for a day trip.
Ballerina rosehips
Thank you for joining me on this ramble around my garden. How has your plot fared in the rain? I hope you didn’t suffer too much damage in the recent storms. I haven’t been able to keep up with the names of the storms, there’s been so many! Please do leave a comment in the box below and sign up for e-mail notifications for new posts. Have a lovely weekend!
Capturing the very last flowers at the start of November. I can’t remember a time when there were so many plants still in flower. The Indian summer high temperatures and sunshine in October prolonged the flowering season. But alas, Storm Babet, and now Storm Ciaran have brought wind and rain. I ran out into the garden during a brief spell of calm and sunshine to capture the garden, and give me something cheerful to reflect on over the coming cold, dark months.
Fuchsia Deltas Sarah. A hardy variety purchased from Coton Manor in Northamptonshire. And can you spot the tiny spiders web which loops around the flower? This reliable fuchsia grows in a large blue glazed pot alongside a clematis sent to me from Raymond Evison’s Guernsey nursery. A very kind man, he sent me the gift to celebrate his 60 years breeding and developing gold-medal winning clematis plants. One day I’ll get to visit the nursery. Meanwhile, I’m watching the news and feeling very anxious about the impact of the latest storm on Jersey and Guernsey. The damage is heartbreaking.
Alongside the fuschia there’s a pot of salvias. This one is Phyllis’s Fancy, a favourite very late-flowering variety. It’s not hardy and will be whisked inside the greenhouse later this week. Meanwhile, it’s the perfect blue to match Deltas Sarah.
Growing in pots and in the ground, this lovely pink chrysanthemum puts on a reliable autumn display every year. It’s called Clara Curtis and came from my father-in-law Keith Gimson’s garden.
I like the small, button-flowered chrysanthemums. This one is Picasso, a rare and endangered variety. I bought it from the Hardy Plant Society where there’s a propagating programme to save it for the future. I have to take cuttings and return spare plants to other society members. Cuttings are very easy to take. I put the pots into a cold greenhouse or poly tunnel and shoots start to grow in January. Early cuttings are grown on in a propagator and potted up before being planted out in May.
Salvias really do join the party late! This one is Royal Bumble, purchased from Mary Thomas and Piecemeal Plants. Plant pots will be thrown in a hurry into the potting shed at the weekend. Plants are cut back and kept relatively dry and dormant all winter, being brought back out next spring.
This lovely blue salvia came from a collection sent mail order from Middleton’s specialist nursery. I wrote about Middletons here:
Salvia Hotlips often flowers until Christmas in a sheltered spot.
Dahlias are producing their very last flowers. I wrote about these yesterday in my ‘flowers for my mum’ post.
Petra’s Wedding made my top five list! I wouldn’t be without it!
Also in my top five is Dahlia Eveline.
A lovely surprise! The very last rose! Ghislaine de Feligonde is a rambling rose and grows on a shady pergola. It is totally disease and trouble free. I bought it as a cutting from a plant sale at Little Ponton Hall. A lovely reminder of happy day out with gardening friends. Highly recommended.
The last ornamental thistle. Echinops ritro Veitch’s Blue. Mr Fothergill’s sell 9cm potted plants. Birds, especially long-tail tits, love the seed heads.
I’ve forgotten the name of this beautiful small-flowering hollyhock. It came from Mary Thomas. Hopefully Mary will read this blog and help me out with the identification!
A bedding fuchsia, unknown variety, growing in a pot under the office window. I’ll look in the morning to see if this flower has managed to open out, or if it’s been blow away down the lane!
I’ll also look tomorrow to see if the old oak tree still has any leaves! This was the view from the top gate at the orchard end of the garden- before the latest storm. The branches were thrashing about in the rain. It must be 150 years old. I very much hope it will survive another 150 years for other people to stand at our garden gate and gaze on its majesty. Thanks for reading my blog. Please leave a comment in the box below and sign up for updates via e mail. How has your garden fared during the storms? Do get in touch and let me know.
Sending out a warm welcome to old and new readers. Hello to new readers from the garden clubs where I’ve given talks recently. At both Nether Heyford and Spratton this week there were questions on what to grow for colour in the garden in June. When I got home I had a quick look through my photo album and found some of my favourite summer flowers. Above is my 1930s summerhouse which stands on a circular turntable and can be swung round to face the sun all day long. In the folding glass doors you can see a reflection of the trees, hedgerows and fields behind our garden. Above the doors, I often place a wreath of fresh flowers and in this photo it’s a selection of roses from the garden.
Constance Spry grows over the entrance to a 60ft pergola. It was one of the first David Austin roses, introduced in 1961. It only flowers once, but the display is so stunning it is worth growing. The myrrh-like scent is fabulous, and reminiscent of fruit salad, ripe melons and pears. It grows to 6m so needs a strong archway or trellis support.
I picked the flowers at dusk when the scent was particularly strong. In the basket there’s also Mme Isaac Pereire (1841) a fuchsia pink climber which grows alongside Constance Spry. And Rose de Rescht (1840) a compact floribunda shrub rose. Both repeat flower all summer.
The wreath is made from 4” lengths of ivy from the hedgerow and white elderflower heads. With the doors open, the breeze wafts the scent of roses and elderflower inside. A rather lovely place to sit and make plans for the garden. The black and white cat is called Grace who came to us from the RSPCA. She was handed in with a box full of kittens. The only kind thing the person did was take her somewhere where she would be cared for, and for the rest of her life she snoozed peacefully here. The summerhouse was a favourite place. Sadly she has now passed away and is still sleeping in the woodland behind the little house.
Growing into a mature beech tree is rampant rambling rose Cerise Bouquet. I never tied the plant in, it simply hooked itself up through the branches and produced huge sprays of cascading stems. Even the most severe storms can’t dislodge it. Sadly it has no scent, but it is a wonderful sight in June and then repeat flowers on a more modest level right through to November. Being a rambler, it is disease free and no trouble. I never prune it, or feed it. It just grows! The Cornus Controversa ‘wedding cake’ tree in front was very badly affected by the 30C temperatures last summer and has lost some of its tiers. I think this winter we will bite the bullet and cut it down by half to see if it regenerates from lower down. It was planted 25 years ago, and is quite slow growing. I was quite upset by the number of plants that succumbed to the heat, but now I’ve come to terms with it. Gardens aren’t static, they change and we have to sometimes let go of much-loved plants. It’s never easy, is it.
One rose that seems to shrug off everything the weather throws at it is this lovely white variety, Pearl Drift. I grew this from a cutting I took on holiday one year. I nearly always come back from holiday with a memento of where we’ve been -always asking permission before taking my cutting, of course! I have a lovely pink flowering American Pillar taken from a rose which grows along a fence in front of a pretty cottage in Sandsend near Whitby.
Growing under the roses are many different geraniums. This one is the wild cranesbill, Geranium pratense. It seeds about the garden, originally blowing in from the country lane outside our garden gate.
As you can see, there’s plenty of cow parsley on the lane too. And I must admit that 50 percent of the garden is covered in cow parsley in spring. I’m not complaining. It’s rather lovely to have the garden echoing what’s going on outside the garden gate.
There’s plenty of room for ornamentals too. In the front garden, lining the path to the front door, there’s gorgeously-scented Mrs Sinkins pinks.
I always pop a few stems in amongst my jam jar flower posies for my mum. As you can see, cow parsley gets picked too, with white love-in-a-mist, wallflowers and alliums.
Thank you for joining me for my reminisces of June flowers. And for a wander down our country lane. I hope the photos have given you some ideas what to grow for summer colour. Do please sign up for e mail updates and follow the blog. It’s been rather lovely looking through my photo album as the temperature suddenly dips to zero here! We’ve had three nights of frost now, and it’s all change in the garden as trees turn golden and tender plants are tucked up in the greenhouse. Are you all ready for the cold? Do please leave a comment in the box below. Let me know what your highlights were this summer and how your garden is looking right now on the cusp of winter weather.
I’ve spent the day clearing out my 20ft second-hand Alton Cedar greenhouse. This was purchased for £260, the best £260 I’ve ever spent. Admittedly, it was 32 years ago- but the greenhouse is still almost as good as new. I’ve painted it black, although it was a harsh bright red when it arrived. The staging is also painted black which really sets off the pelargoniums housed there. Plants live in pots along the front path in front of the greenhouse during the summer. It just gets too hot indoors, and they appreciate some fresh air and rainwater. But at this time of the year, I sweep it out, wash down the windows and give it all a quick re-paint. Everything must be back inside before the first frosts.
In the background you can see my 10ft sunflowers that I thought were small multi-headed types for cutting. I’d need a ladder to harvest those! Instead I’m leaving most of them to dry out for bird seed. A few blew down in the recent storms, so I’ve put them in jam jars on the kitchen table. I’ve made a note to carefully check the seed packets next summer so I don’t make the same mistake twice! They are beautiful though, and the bees and butterflies enjoying the pollen are currently a wonderful sight.
Next to the greenhouse there’s a matching 20ft polytunnel where I grow fruit, vegetables and flowers. Tomatoes and peaches have done really well this summer. You’ll also see a little pile of cobnuts in the basket. Alongside the greenhouse there’s a huge hazel tree which squirrels usually strip overnight. This year there were more nuts than they could manage, so I’ve harvested some to make into cakes and biscuits.
Peaches have been a great success this summer. My trees are grown in large 15” containers in the poly tunnel. This protects them from peach leaf curl which thrives in wet conditions. Keeping leaves dry is the best way to combat the disease.
Baskets nearly always contain flowers as well as fruit and veg. This is Rose of the Year 2022, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.’ Highly recommended for fabulous scent, repeat flowering and disease resistance. I’ve also picked some seedling nasturtiums. I’m particularly fond of this peachy-coloured one and keep it going by taking cuttings which root in water. I collect seeds too, but it might not come back exactly the same colour as nasturtiums readily hybridise. There’s also a few herbs, mint, marjoram and rosemary which add a lovely scent to any jam jar flower arrangement. The climbing beans are pink-flowered Celebration which don’t go stringy and crop late into the season.
Still on the theme of peaches, these are the little pastry custard tarts I made with slices of fresh peach, autumn raspberries and home-grown blueberries. The recipe is for my column in Garden News Magazine which I’ll share next week. They are very quick and easy to make.
I’ve had this potted purple bougainvillea for about 30 years. I’ve trained it into a round-headed shape so that it doesn’t take up too much room. It will be the first plant to go back in the greenhouse as it’s not at all hardy. Bracts stay colourful until December and I often use it in my Christmas table arrangements.
In pots alongside the bougainvillea are these beautiful grey-leaved tender perennial plants. They have long sprays of pale blue flowers. I’ve temporarily forgotten the name! Each winter I take insurance policy cuttings just incase I lose the parent plants.
There’s a border full of low-maintenance day lilies in front of the greenhouse. In autumn when the day lilies are starting to die back, these beautiful spires of persicaria appear. This one is Persicaria Rosea.
The flowers deserve a close inspection, they are so dainty.
There’s also a white persicaria. Sadly, the label has been lost so I’m not sure of the variety. It thrives in dappled shade and flowers from August to November. The photo is out of focus as it was such a windy day, but it’s a very pretty flower nonetheless.
And finally, this one is also growing in with the daylilies. This persicaria is either Firetail or Firedance. They are good for cut flowers, lasting at least a week to 10 days in a vase if you change the water each day. The spire shape gives a nice contrast to round, daisy flowers.
In amongst them are several types of phlox. This one is Blue Paradise- very highly scented and long-flowering in late summer.
The back field behind the summerhouse had oats growing there this summer. It’s been wonderful to sit in the shade and watch the field slowly turning to a shimmering gold. On a windy day, the crop ripples like waves and before it ripens the green-grey colour reminds me of the ocean. Instead of seagulls we have barn owls silently gliding by at dusk. There’s no sound at all from the beating wings and they quarter the field without knowing we are watching from the little wooden house.
We are always pleased and much relieved when the farmer manages to get the crop in before bad weather arrives. They work through sunset and into the night if rain is threatened. We lie in bed and listen to the tractors going up and down the fields and along the lane. At 2am there’s suddenly silence again and we know they have successfully got in the crops. Rain falls the next day and it’s wet for a week.
This is the view from our five bar gate at the top of the paddock. For a few weeks after the harvest, the fields retain their golden glow, and I drink in the scene and hold on to the memory as autumn and then winter darkness descends.
When we moved here, it was just a decrepit house and no garden. The farmer who built the house sold us an acre of land alongside it, and we planted 250 sapling trees given to us by the woodland trust and local council. At the time, there was a scheme giving free trees to anyone returning farm land to nature and we planted a small woodland area. All along the boundary, we left viewing points through to the fields beyond. The ever-changing seasons are a delight to spy through these holes in the treescape.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please sign up for e mail updates and I would love you to press ‘follow’. I often join in with Cathy for her ‘In a Vase on Monday’ meme. Mostly I write about what flowers I’m growing to give to my friends and family, and what produce I’m growing for family meals. I don’t grow in traditional rows, everything is mingled together and much is grown in window boxes and containers, with many different varieties ripening early, mid-season and late. There’s nearly always something to ‘forage’ from the plot.
Summer annuals, such as cosmos, haven’t started flowering yet. We are about two weeks behind, due to a very cold spring. So for this week’s flowers from the plot I’ve had to rely on biennials, perennials, climbers and shrubs. Each week, I pick a selection of flowers to take to my Mum as a ‘snap-shot’ of what the garden looks like. It’s a way of sharing our love of flowers and keeping her connected with what’s happening here.
Love-in-a-mist was sown last autumn and over-wintered in an unheated poly tunnel. I was testing out a theory to see if I could get early flowers by the last week of May. There are masses of flowers, but these are only a few weeks earlier than the ones growing in a sunny south-facing border outdoors, so I probably won’t repeat this exercise. The cost of compost and use of space doesn’t warrant the slightly earlier flowers.
The tiny deep purple flowers are Geranium Phaeum which pops up all over the plot in places I never planted it. It’s a long-flowering perennial and doesn’t take up much space, just meandering about through established shrubs and in a dry, shady woodland border.
The other jewel-like purple flowers are perennial wallflowers from Coton Manor plant nursery. These are highly recommended as they flower for a very long period and are low maintenance and easy-going. I bought just one plant and took cuttings immediately. I soon had 20 plants to cover a quarter of one of my vegetable and flower beds sited next to the greenhouse. I have 10 beds which are 1.5m wide by 3m long with small slab paths running between.
The last of the orange biennial wallflowers are being picked now. I’ll sow some more seed for next year. Sooty is a favourite deep purple/ black variety. The one above was part of a mixed packet of seed named Orange Bedder. It’s been flowering for several months. Deep red buds open to a lovely marmalade orange and the markings on the petals remind me of a dragonfly’s wings. The scent is wonderful, especially in the evening, and attracts clouds of moths. And circling above the plot, eating the moths, we have pipistrelle bats. We have seen them here since we moved in and created a garden 30 years ago. We thought they roosted over winter in the farmhouse next door, but they must have found other accommodation as the farmhouse has been completely renovated and there are now no gaps in the slate roof.
Forget me nots fill another whole bed, providing ground cover for the soil until the bed is required for summer crops. Forget me nots pull up very easily and suppress any weeds, so you are left with a nice clean bed to start planting out crops such as sweetcorn, onions, French beans, and courgettes. This year I have planted a dozen sunflowers in amongst the sweetcorn, an idea I spotted at Easton Walled Gardens last summer. Nasturtiums will clamber up the sweetcorn as it makes a sturdy support for annual climbers and scramblers.
Welsh poppies pop up in every crevice all over the garden. I did previously try to eradicate them, but they persisted and I’m quite pleased they did now. Such a cheerful plant with flowers that look as if they are made of silk. I have the yellow and the orange types here. Background foliage comes from the Physocarpus Diabolo which grows in a north facing border and provides material for flower arrangements all summer long.
Dead nettles and cow parsley add a touch of white to the posy. Dead nettles continue to grow out of the bouquet and flowers last a long time. I was intrigued to see four out of the 12 gardens at Chelsea Flower Show contained so called weeds. I laughed out loud when I heard pots of dandelions were selling for £30. I’m actually a millionaire if dandelions, nettles and buttercups are taken into consideration. My whole plot is full of them!
I have a new little helper in the garden! My grandson, Finn. He loves running between the cow parsley along the woodland paths and picking flowers for his great grandmother. I’m hoping he will have a life-long love of nature and flowers, just as we did, growing up running free in our grandparent’s gardens. Have a happy gardening week everyone.
Do join Cathy for her ‘In a Vase on Monday’ meme. If you are busy, like me, it doesn’t matter what day of the week you post your posy of flowers from the garden. It’s a good community to be a part of, sharing what we are growing in gardens all around the world.
I’ve just realised that I never cut any flowers for myself. They are always for friends and relatives, all the pleasure being in the giving. It’s nice to have something home-grown to give away. However, I’ve been ill for a few weeks and stuck indoors. How frustrating it’s been looking out from my bed while the sun shone on the garden. I made lists of all the jobs needed doing, which didn’t help at all. But when I felt a bit better, I wobbled outdoors and cut these flowers for my bedside table.
The star of my little bouquet is this highly-scented rose from a new home-florists’ range. Timeless Purple has long stems with very few thorns. Flowers have an ‘old rose’ appearance and wonderful myrrh- scent. Modern breeding means it repeat flowers and is disease resistant. Flowers stand up to the weather. Old roses tend to ‘ball’ in the rain, where buds fail to open and drop off. Such a disappointment if you’ve eagerly waited for the rose buds to open, to see them going mouldy and wilting. These flowers shrug off the raindrops, and flowers aren’t marked by the weather.
The heatwave and drought meant there were virtually no flowers in my garden all summer, but autumn has brought a bonanza. Plants seem determined to make up for lost time. The argyranthemums grown from seed by my Mum have come into flower mid-October. Who doesn’t love a daisy? The cheerful white flowers go so well with the roses and salvias.
Dahlias also suffered in the summer heat, but are coming into flower now. The first frost will finish the display, but for now, I’m just enjoying this unexpected bounty.
It’s not easy to photograph salvias. Their colours are so vibrant they tend to blur with an ordinary camera phone. This is one of the many salvias that came from https://middletonnurseries.co.uk/
Their jewel-like colours are very welcome at this time of the year, and look so wonderful set against golden autumn foliage. Stems have a delicious blackcurrant scent.
Talking of foliage, I picked some stems of my dogwood, Cornus Westonbirt. Leaves are turning a lovely plum colour, and the bright red stems will provide interest all winter, especially when the sun shines through them. These are such easy shrubs to grow, they simply need a prune to the ground each spring as the most colourful stems are produced on new growth.
Cornus Westonbirt
My grey foliage plants came from Coton Manor nursery in Northampton. Annoyingly, I can’t remember the name, but I have the label in the greenhouse and will just edit the name in tomorrow. I’m still suffering from terrible brain fog after being ill.
Fuchsias, also from Coton Manor, have decided to flower a month later than usual. They are growing in huge pots and I’ll just lift them into the greenhouse to protect them from frost. They flower till Christmas, given some protection.
Cosmos Psyche White has also decided to put on a show now. This is my favourite cosmos. It’s a messy double white with long stems and good repeat flowering. It lasts a fortnight in a vase. I’ve tried some of the new apricot cosmos, but they didn’t do well for me here, so I won’t bother with them again. I need tried and tested varieties that won’t let me down.
Cosmos Psyche White
In the greenhouse I found this lovely pink Passion flower which was in keeping with my colour-theme posy, so I picked it an added it to the jam jar. I grow this in a 10” pot which is carried outside for the summer and brought in again before the first frosts. Usually there are one or two flowers right through winter.
Well, I hope this little posy of flowers has given you some inspiration for what to grow to have something to pick in late October. I try to have something to pick every day of the year. Sometimes there’s more foliage than flowers, but it’s lovely to bring the garden indoors, so to speak.
After being stuck in my room for so long, it did me the world of good to wander about outdoors picking a few flowers. For once, they are just for me, and I’m thoroughly enjoying them. Have a great weekend. Keep safe and well and enjoy your gardening.
The best view of Melbourne Hall is from the ornate Bird Cage on the other side of the lake. But during August the house and the garden is open every afternoon, so there’s a chance to get a closer look and step inside this beautiful historic building.
When you arrive you enter by the Carriage Ring driveway, and step inside the Billiard Room, a conservatory-style addition built in 1911 by Lord Walter Kerr to add a glass roof over the area between the two wings of the house. In winter, this structure houses potted lemon trees, and mince pies and mulled wine are served to visitors on special opening dates. Last time I visited in winter, the family placed a Christmas tree in the conservatory which looked very pretty with all the tree lights and decorations reflected in the glass. It’s a very special experience to be able to look through the house windows out to the landscape and gardens beyond. It gives a totally different perspective on the planting and layout.
This is the oak panelled Dining Room. The walnut high back chairs are particularly striking. Some celebrate the return of the monarch in 1660 by having a crown carved into them. Beautiful tapestry seats have been embroidered by the Kerr family for chairs which date back to the time of William and Mary.
There are seven ground floor rooms to view. The hall opens at 2pm and there are guided tours on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursdays. Or you can have a leisurely wander about on your own. Guides are also on duty in the rooms, able to answer any questions. Admission tickets can be purchased online, or from the entrance hall on the day of your visit.
It’s fascinating hearing about all the characters who’ve lived in this special place. Head tour guide Gill Weston has lots of interesting stories to tell.
After visiting the house, there’s beautifully-planted gardens to enjoy. Oxeye daisies are planted in long grass in the meadow. Currently in flower in the Paulownia border beside the Millstream you’ll find Eucomis, or pineapple lilies, alongside pink hydrangea arborescence Invincible Spirit.
Thanks to Gill Weston for the stories, and thanks also to Andrea Jones for kindly sharing photos. Melbourne Hall is a very special place and one of my favourite gardens. Do take the chance to glimpse inside the hall, while it’s open for August. It’s a historic house with lots of character.
In a recent prize draw on the blog, Tickets to visit the garden were won by Suella.
Thank you for reading my blog and leaving your comments in the box below. It’s very much appreciated. You are among 200 people who read the blog each day, and although I haven’t been able to write very much lately , it’s a comfort to see so many people reading past blog posts and finding useful information and recipes there. Happy gardening everyone.
Photos kindly provided by award-winning photographer Andrea Jones.
Fritillaria meleagris or snake’s head fritillary. Naturalises in grass; grows well in fertile, humus-rich soil and will seed around in time.
Melbourne Hall’s newsletter pops into my inbox on a regular basis and makes me want to jump in the car and drive straight over. The spring display is truly magical as ancient trees bust into leaf and there’s colour everywhere with beautiful bulbs and blossom.
Magnolia Caerhays Belle
The gardens were laid out in the formal French style by landscape designers George Loudon and Henry Wise in the early 18th century. There’s a beautiful pool, known as The Great Basin, at the heart of the garden, and paths lead off to less formal areas; the dell, arboretum, mill stream borders, and kitchen garden.
There’s a picture-postcard view from the Bird Cage across the pool towards Melbourne Hall. I particularly love the reflection of the trees in the water. To the left of the hall there’s a magnificent Atlas Cedar, Cedrus atlantica, native to the Atlas Mountains in Morocco, just as happy on the terrace at Melbourne.
Here’s a closer view of the house with Melbourne Church in the backdrop. To the far left of the gardens, there’s a 20 acre lake and picturesque mill house and weir. You can walk along one side of the lake and look back towards the church and hall for another stunning view.
I always marvel at the beauty of the cloud-pruned hedges surrounding the pool. There’s quite a skill in maintaining such a feature. The Bird Cage provides a striking focal point across the pool, looking out from the house opposite.
Following the paths radiating from the main garden, there’s a series of mill stream borders planted with moisture-loving plants. The pale pink flowers are Persicaria bistorta, a rhizomatous perennial which thrives in damp conditions and flowers for a long period. Its common name is Easter giant. There’s also a bank of hostas, candelabra primulas and ground cover geraniums with Purple Dream tulips adding to the pink and magenta theme.
Looking across from the other side of the bridge, there’s a mature yellow tree peony and a bank of pale blue camassia and blue iris.
Further along the stream, there’s scented azalea luteum and a purple acer, underplanted with hostas and camassia.
Corydalis solida, known as fumewort, a low-growing tuberous perennial which can cope with some shade and is good for underplanting of spring trees and shrubs.
Following the path round, you come to the Kitchen Garden. This pretty peach ‘Peregrine’ is beautifully trained along the walls, getting some protection from the weather. It produces tasty, white-fleshed fruit in August and September. In the Melbourne Hall newsletter there’s a recipe for ‘baked toffee peaches’ with amaretti biscuits, muscovado sugar and butter by Jane Lovett.
Reflections in the water are mesmerising. Melbourne Hall is an RHS Partner garden and is taking part in The Garden of the Year competition. The theme of this year’s competition is ‘Feel Good’ reflecting on how beneficial it is to have a connection with nature and exercise in beautiful gardens and outdoor spaces. You can vote for Melbourne and find out more here: https://www.rhs.org.uk/gardens/partner-gardens/rhs-partner-garden-of-the-year
Here’s the website link giving all the details of opening times and events at Melbourne Hall. Look out for special food events in the Courtyard, and celebrity appearances and live music in the Walled Rose Garden.
With grateful thanks to Andrea Jones for allowing the use of her photos for the blog. Copyright https://www.andreajones.co.uk/.
Please leave a comment, and names will be put into a computer generated draw to randomly select one winner for two free tickets for entry to the garden. Sorry, this doesn’t include travel costs. The draw will be made at 6pm on Monday 18th April. P
Please feel free to comment even if you don’t wish to be entered in the draw, and let me know what you think of the gardens. Thank you for reading the blog and for getting in touch.
Early Crocus Tommasinianus and Galanthus nivalis in the front woodland garden
Ukraine is constantly in my thoughts. I will not say much, as I’m sure you have arrived here for gardens, flowers, peace and tranquility – much needed in current times. But rest assured, although I am small and insignificant I am doing all I can in the background to support the people of Ukraine in any way I can. It’s easy to think that we are powerless, but often if many people come together then their efforts can be great. Think of one small thing you could do today to make a difference. We are not helpless- and we are not without hope.
Meanwhile, here’s some photos of my garden today for anyone who needs the restorative power of plants. Here’s Galanthus Madeline at the foot of the willow and hazel trees.
Wild primroses poking through the leafmould path. The scent is honey-like and delicate. The very essence of spring.
Wild daffodils are just emerging too. This one is Narcissus pseudonarcissus. There are drifts of the Welsh wild flower, the Tenby daffodil, in honour of my Welsh grandmother. But the little lobularis daffodil is the first to open.
The winter aconites are just going over now. The are making a nice swathe of colour in the woodland corner at the end of the pergola.
Cyclamen Coum flowers are popping up all over the garden- not necessarily where I planted them. Apparently the seeds have a sticky substance much-loved by ants which then carry the seed far and wide. They must have carried them off into the back fields as there’s a thriving collection of plants on the other side of the fence.
Some of the cyclamen have come up with these bright silvery-leaves. These are worth growing for the foliage alone. Both white and purple flowers are emerging from the leaves.
There’s also Cyclamen persicum flowering in the greenhouse. These have been making a display since last October; really good value long-lasting plants. They are not hardy in my garden, coming from the Eastern Mediterranean region. But they thrive in a greenhouse or cool room, just watering them when they droop – and not before.
While we are in the greenhouse, I’ll show you the citrus trees which have produced the best ever crop of lemons and oranges here. We have had a relatively mild winter and the plants have been kept at 4C in the heated greenhouse. To be honest, the heater has hardly been on. A well insulated cedar-wood greenhouse keeps plants cosy. I’m just starting to water them again and top dressing with fresh compost. They are too big now to be repotted, but topdressing with new compost and adding liquid fertiliser in the watering can will perk them up and bring them into flower again.
And this is what I made with the orange zest; citrus shortbread. The recipe will be in Garden News Magazine next week, and I’ll copy and paste the article here for anyone who would like it. It’s part of my new ‘family favourites’ column for the magazine. Quick recipes anyone can make. There won’t be long lists of ingredients and fancy products you have to search high and low for. It’s mostly about simple ingredients and home grown produce, and all the recipes that have been passed down to me from my mother and my grandparents and friends.
Strawberry scones will feature in the coming weeks too, as I’m talking about bringing my strawberry plants, growing in containers, into the greenhouse to get an early crop. I grow my strawberries in 10” pots and windows boxes. They are easy to pick up and move under cover. Also easy to protect the fruit from birds and slugs as well.
Daphne and the other hens have just started laying again, so there will be plenty of eggs for cooking. The bantams are undercover in a new run, specially made to protect them from the bird flu epidemic. Usually they would be out foraging in the orchard by now, but until we have the all-clear they have to be kept in.
Walking from the hen run, out past the fruit trees and along the perimeter fence, there are more snowdrops. These are double and single types.
The doubles flower just a few weeks before the singles.
These have green tips. I believe they are a variety called Viridapice.
This one is called Walrus. It has elongated, green-marked outer petals.
A small patch of Galanthus Robin Hood.
It’s called Robin Hood because of the crossbow markings on the inner petals.
A small patch of Galanthus Jessica. I bought these because I have a niece called Jessica.
Have you all seen the news about the most expensive snowdrop ever? I think I would have been crying if I’d paid £1,850 for a single bulb of Golden Tears. Pretty as it is, it’s a staggering amount to pay. I saw the above photo on the Alpine Garden Society social media pages.
Here’s the view through the gap in the hedge. The field has been sown with winter wheat. I think the variety is Skyfall which is hardy and disease resistant and therefore requires less spraying.
And finally, just a few steps from my garden gate, here’s the view on the lane, looking across the back fields to ancient Bunny Woods on the horizon. Sometimes we walk across the footpaths to the woods. Today, I’m taking this photo in a welcome gap in the rain, but the clouds still look ominous, so I hurry home for a warming cup of tea. I hope you’ve enjoyed this tour of my garden and surrounding fields. Take care everyone and keep safe and well. And let me know what spring flowers are emerging in your gardens today.
The publishers have kindly offered one copy to give away. Please leave a comment at the end of this review, and one name will be randomly selected on Sunday 31st October 6pm.
Books have a power to move. To tears, to joy, to despair. Sometimes they transport you to another place. James Golden takes you by the hand and leads you through the garden he’s created, and it’s one of the most beautiful, inspiring journeys you’ll ever take. In his new book, The View from Federal Twist, he describes what it’s like to create a garden from scratch in western New Jersey, USA. His garden is set in a clearing in the woods. He made a conscious decision not to improve the land. Instead he ‘listened to the site,’ placed large competitive plants into rough grass and watched and waited as sustainable plant communities emerged. The result is a magical place, a naturalistic garden -with a difference.
James describes the book as a retelling of the making of his ‘first serious garden.’ It’s a triumph of ecological planting and clear design aims. James is part philosopher, part experimental horticulturist. The result has such an emotional power- it’s breathtakingly beautiful. Evocative photographs capture the effects of light shining through the canopy of trees, grasses and shrubs. Just the scale of planting is mesmerising.
A view of garden taken from a drone. The stone circle is the largest structure in the garden. It’s made of a hard local mudstone called argillite ( ‘blue jingle’ in the local argot, because the stones ring when hit together) that is ubiquitous in this area. Here the circle is like a plant dam, preventing spillover of the prairie into one of the few open spaces in the garden. Like the rest of the garden, James says, it has no utility. It exists to add visual weight, atmosphere and to serve as a stopping place, perhaps to “sit, observe, or let your mind wander.” James writes: “Further along the terrace, towards its sunny eastern end, this small rectangular reflecting pool makes an elegant contrast with the surrounding naturalistic plantings. The juxtaposition of the sharply defined pool, the repeated domes of miscanthus, and the flowing vegetation give this part of the garden a ‘designed’ look not typical of the garden as a whole.” Views through the seasons Planting the garden. Clockwise from top: Hosta sieboldiana, Iris virginica ‘Contrabrand Girl’ Cephalanthus occidentalis, the canal pond, the bare garden in spring after cutting back, Euphorbia palustris, Dryopteris erythrosora, Maianthemum racemosum – about to flower. The garden in winter. A clearing in the woods. The Federal Twist road is not well-known. It’s hidden in the woods above the Delaware and is only four miles long. James says “I accepted a very ungarden-like place as my garden destiny.” The book is dedicated to Philip. Front cover
“I am Federal Twist,’’ says James. He realised this when he looked at photos of the garden from above. He put the images side by side with those taken from ground level. “When I put the two images side by side, my reaction was immediate- and astonishing. I felt icy fear. The drone image showed a flat piece of earth totally devoid of feeling, offering no comfort, no warmth, no humanity, no place for me. I felt as if I were seeing with the eyes of an alien being. In contrast, the ground-level photography held me firmly within the garden; it gave me a place to be, a protected place under trees; it made me feel a part of the landscape. I felt comforted, and a sense of belonging.”
Later, he writes “…my life and emotions are closely bound with this place I call my garden. I understand physics well enough to know that my physical body intersects with the garden, interacts with the garden, responds to the garden in some kind of mutual way. I ‘live’ the garden every day. I am Federal Twist.”
Thank you for reading my review. I believe some books come into your life at just the right moment. It’s almost as if they were ‘written’ for you. To give you joy, to give you inspiration; to give you hope. I haven’t been able to write for a while. Grief affects people in different ways. I’ve sat with grieving friends and relatives and they’ve wanted to talk non-stop for hours. Others write sonnets, pen poems, write books. Grief suddenly and unexpectedly silenced me. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to write, I am someone who tries to make things better for everyone. Perhaps I just didn’t want to make anyone else feel sad. There’s no easy path back from grief, it takes time. But reading this book has helped. It’s put into words how I feel about my own garden- how my little plot has kept me afloat these past few months. I, too, feel I ‘live’ my garden. It responds to me; it’s like enfolding arms around me, lifting me up and helping to turn my face to the sun again.
Home. Sunshine lighting up the field maples. There’s tiny hazel catkins forming in the native hedgerow. They will sit there and wait till spring. Rosehips and sloe berries for the birds. Viburnum and hawthorn berries shine, sealing wax red. Life goes on.
Are you taking part in the Big Butterfly Count this year? I’m just about to settle down with a cup of tea and count the butterflies in my garden.
Wildlife specialists, Vivara, are sponsoring the count this year and sent me this butterfly house to promote the citizen science project.
I’ve placed the house in a sunny sheltered spot in the cut flower and vegetable garden. I’ve put some twigs inside the house and hopefully butterflies will use it to shelter from bad weather. If I’m lucky, some might use it to overwinter in my garden. Last year we had peacock butterflies hibernating in the hen house and the potting shed. Adults overwinter in dark places such as sheds, bird boxes and holes in trees, and left undisturbed, they will be dormant until spring. As soon as the weather starts to warm up, they emerge and look for nectar-rich plants to feed on.
The butterfly house has a hook on the back and a screw and rawl plug for hanging it up.
I always look for the FSC mark on any wooden product which shows it’s been made from materials sourced from well managed forests. The butterfly house is a sturdy product which should last for years.
Vivara have one butterfly house to give away. Leave a comment at the end of this piece and a winner will be randomly selected.
A Comma butterfly on an echinacea plant in my garden.
Butterflies need all the help they can get. Numbers are falling drastically. The Butterfly Conservation charity which runs the Big Butterfly Count says last year a record 145,000 counts were submitted, but worryingly 2020 saw the lowest average numbers of butterflies logged since the event began 12 years ago.
Cold, wet spring weather is thought to be a factor. Here in Leicestershire we had a cold, dry April, followed by the wettest May for 50 years. It rained every day, and right at the end May, we had a week of frost with temperatures dipping to -4C. This week we’ve had flash floods with 15mm of rain in one day, and hail stones the size of marbles.
Taking part in the Big Butterfly Count helps scientists assess the health of our environment, and helps us understand how the climate is affecting butterflies.
To take part, spend 15 minutes counting the maximum number of each species you can see at a single time. You can do this in a garden, school grounds, or public park. Go on to the Butterfly Conservation website and record your findings, or download the i- record App. There’s a downloadable wall chart showing all the different butterflies which helps identify them.
Here’s some butterflies I spotted in my garden:
A Holly Blue butterfly on calendula Cabbage White butterfly on echeveria flowers in the greenhouse Red Admiral on verbena bonariensis Tortoiseshell on the salad crop
Five Ways You Can Help Butterflies:
1. Join Butterfly Conservation. It’s half price until 8th August. There’s magazines and leaflets on gardening for butterflies. Also, invitations to local guided walks, and conservation volunteering days.
2. Run an event on behalf of Butterfly Conservation. Every little helps. You could host a coffee morning, a plant sale, a sponsored activity.
3. Volunteer for Butterfly Conservation. There’s office and outdoor work available.
4. Grow something for butterflies. They need nectar-rich plants for food, but also trees, shrubs and plants for caterpillars.
5. Take part in the Big Butterfly Count which runs until August 8th. It’s the biggest survey of butterflies in the world and provides a valuable insight into the health of our UK butterfly species.
Plants I grow to attract butterflies:
Buddleja is the one everyone knows about. Literally called the ‘butterfly bush.’ There’s some new miniature varieties for growing in small spaces and in containers. Look out for the Buzz series in lavender, magenta and white.
Lavender. Hidcote is my favourite as it is compact and doesn’t sprawl. Of all the lavenders, this one seems to cope with wet winters better than most. It needs well-drained soil and a sunny site.
Perennial wallflower- Bowles Mauve. Rarely out of flower all spring and summer. It’s a good idea to have a variety of plants from early spring through to autumn so there’s always something in flower for butterflies.
Marjoram. I discovered this when I let some marjoram or oregano plants escape from a pot. They grew to 60cm and scrambled through the bottom of a sunny hedge, providing pink/purple flowers all summer.
I also grow a selection of plants for caterpillars. Fruit trees, alder buckthorn, holly, blackthorn, oak, broom, lady’s smock or Cardamine pratensis, nettles, bird’s foot trefoil, all important caterpillar food.
Thank you for reading my blog. And thank you for all your kind comments on here and via other social media, letting me know how much my posts have cheered you up during the past two very difficult years. It’s much appreciated. Good luck in the prize draw! I’ll announce a winner on Sunday evening, 1st August, 2021.
This week’s ramblings from the plot. If you click on the photo you should be able to zoom in to read the column. I’ve been writing about my garden for a year and a half. I love sharing the ups and downs of growing fruit, veg and cut flowers. Not everything goes according to plan. But it’s good to share the disasters as well as successes, so everyone can learn from it.
So pleased to see Monty kitten gets a mention. We always send eight photos each time and never know which ones will be used. It depends on the layout. As you can see, Monty is turning into the best ever gardening cat. He is always by my side, whatever job I’m doing in the garden. He takes an interest in everything and likes to get involved. To be honest, I’m sure he thinks he’s a dog and not a cat, as he’s so loyal and often likes to come for a walk with us along the back field footpaths. If we get too far from home, I pick him up and carry him back, as I’d hate him to suddenly dart into a hedge and be lost. All our previous cats have been rather aloof and independent. Monty is one of a kind.
I’m getting on well with the paper mulch. It’s saving so much time. I can’t understand how I never heard of this product before, but now I know, I’ll be using it every summer under my dahlias, courgettes, cosmos and pumpkins. It saves so much hoeing and back-breaking hands and knees weeding.
I’ve taken lots of cuttings of my new salvia collection. They seem to flower virtually non-stop from june to first frosts. Such beautiful colours and so easy to grow. The cuttings will ensure they survive over the winter, as they are not always hardy in my cold wet clay. I wrote about new salvia varieties here: https://bramblegarden.com/2021/06/18/new-plants-on-trial-salvias-from-middleton-nurseries/
And finally, I loved taking part in the social media event, GardenDayUK where we all made a flower crown, and spent some time reading, resting, having a tea party, enjoying being in our gardens, and sharing our gardens with the hashtag #GardenDayUK. This was the first time I’d joined in, and I enjoyed being a part of the celebrations.
Next time, I’m writing about butterflies, the new Rose of the Year ‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’ a visit to Stockton Bury Gardens in Herefordshire, and my success with my sweet pea pavement flower sales for charity. I hope you are having a great gardening week. Thank you, as ever, for taking the time to read my blog. It’s much appreciated.
Life seems to have been incredibly busy these past few months. Two family members have been desperately ill. I’ve sat by their beds and held their hands. Willed them to stay with us. One emerged from a deep deep coma, and returned to us. The other one passed away, peacefully in his sleep. And so, I sit in the garden now and think of them. Hoping the one returned to us as fragile as a butterfly, will spread his wings and fly, and mourning for the one who did not, although it was his time to go and we must celebrate a life well lived, well loved, happy and fruitful. The garden, as ever, becomes a place of solace. I’ve ground to a halt after months of literally running from one place to the next, almost in a permanent panic. Back here, in the shade of the trees, there’s peace and calm. Whilst I’ve been busy, the nesting birds have raised their young, and many have fledged. A highlight of a particularly difficult and stormy day was suddenly finding six long-tailed tits, newly emerged from the nest- all gathered along a hazel branch, at eye level, fluffing up feathers, preening, eager darting eyes. Almost like pom poms on a string. What a day to fledge! We had 40 mile per hour winds and torrential rain. With the storm coming from the south east, the westerly edge of our wood was weirdly still and silent, and this is where our little flock gathered. The parents desperately calling to them, ‘tsuk, tsuk, tsuk’ but the chicks totally unafraid, studied me as much as I studied them. In all the excitement of leaving the nest, I was just one of the new wonders for them to discover. I’ve stored up this moment as a happy memory during a difficult time. It’s amazing the little things that give you hope in times of need. You never know when or where these moments will come from, do you. And often it’s the simplest things that provide a balm.
Enjoy this week’s views of the garden and ramble along the back field footpath where there’s masses of white cow parsley and the last of the hawthorn blossom now festooned with ribbons of fragrant dog roses. Thank you for reading my blog.
Cow parsley and wild three cornered leek, where snowdrops bloomed in winter. Viburnum plicatum at the edge of the horseshoe pond. Layers of flat white flowers, covered in bees.
White Roses. Pearl Drift requires minimal pruning and no chemicals. It is resistant to blackspot due to it’s LeGrice breeding. Grows to 4ft and is reliably repeat-flowering. Highly recommended.
Semi-double flowers allow bees to access the pollen. Sweetly scented.
Dianthus Mrs Sinkins. Another highly-scented flower in the June garden. Repeat flowers if cut back and dead-headed. Grows in the overspill gravel alongside the drive.
White campion – Silene latifolia alba- arrived by itself and grows amongst the cow parsley. Much less rampant than the pink variety.
Wild dog roses, great big swathes, overhang from the top of the high hawthorn hedges. There will be plenty of bright red rosehips.
Along the holloway walk. The pathway is edged with snowdrops in winter, and white starry stitchwort in summer. I’m adding white foxgloves for next year.
I’ve left gaps in the trees to look out from the pathway, towards the back fields, this year planted with spring wheat. I’m looking forward to having a golden backdrop for the garden. Wheat and barley are my favourites.
Step out of the top five bar gate, and on to the lane. The cow parsley has never looked as lovely. Or maybe, I just haven’t had time to stand and survey the scene before.
Looking across the fields towards Bunny Wood. There’s an ancient footpath to the woods.
A well-trodden path, very popular with hikers and dog walkers. We sometimes see deer. Usually there’s hares – more this year than usual. At dusk we watch the barn owls quarter the fields. At the moment they are out in the day as well as at night, which means they are probably feeding young. Tawny owls also call out across the fields at night.
A hawthorn ‘archway.’ A favourite viewing point.
Plenty of cow parsley. As pretty as any florists’ flower.
Thank you for reading my blog. Let me know what gardening jobs you are doing at the moment. I’m catching up on planting and weeding. Everything is very late this year, but I expect things will catch up in time. Have a peaceful happy week.
I thought you’d like a calming walk around the garden today. We’ve had snow for two days now, but it is starting to melt. It’s currently 3C and rain is forecast. Snow covers a multitude of sins. You can’t see the brambles or stinging nettles. I’ve made a start on tackling the thickets- they have grown up in only three years of neglect. It’s interesting to see how nature is always trying to reclaim the garden. Always trying to take back what we’ve borrowed. We only carve out this place for a short while.
Bellis daisies. In flower despite the cold. We planted some in pots years ago and they’ve seeded about the plot. They pop up in borders, the gravel paths, and in small colonies in the lawn. I rather like them for their tenacity. Stamp on them (accidentally) and they do not flinch.
By the front door there’s a patch of Algerian iris (Iris unguicularis). It grows in the gravel spilling over from the path. There is no soil here. And yet, with minimum fuss and no maintenance, it flowers its heart out from October to March. Friends say it can be difficult to grow, so I’m grateful for my little patch of thriving iris. Last year it produced this pretty lilac sport. The mother plant is deep purple. I love it when plants suddenly do the unexpected. Don’t you?
The bank of wild cherry trees look like charcoal drawings in the snow. They are full of buds. I’ll cut a few twiggy branches and bring them into the house. They’ll flower readily in the heat of the kitchen. One way to bring spring forwards a little. It’s cheating, I know, but I can’t resist.
More trees surround the wildlife pond. It’s wonderful to think we are only four weeks to seeing frogspawn in the pond. Spring always starts for me when we see frogs again. You can learn more about frogs by following Froglife, a wildife charity dedicated to the conservation of frogs, toads, newts, snakes and lizards.
We are seeing a lot more deer in our area. We think they might be Sitka deer. Sometimes I just catch sight of them out of the corner of my eye. They are almost like ghosts, drifting silently along the dark hedgerows. They seem to blend into the shadows and become part of the landscape. Sometimes, in spring, if we are really lucky, we’ll come across a fawn in the long grass. The mother is never far away, and we tiptoe quietly away, so as not to startle her.
We’ve turned the summerhouse towards the sun. Amazingly, it’s quite warm in there. Such a well-made building, insulated with thick, wavy-edge oak. They knew how to build in the 1930s. We are grateful for our sturdy and peaceful sanctuary. It’s the perfect place to sit for a while and read, or watch the birds. Sometimes we see a fox. At dusk, a barn owl quarters the back field. They hunt methodically, searching for prey by flying back and forth. We worry when the weather is stormy and wet, as it increasingly is nowadays. Barn owls have no waterproofing. Their soft feathers help them to fly almost silently, but it’s at the expense of being weatherproof. They struggle to hunt and find food in the rain. One heartbreaking evening last summer, we saw the female out in heavy rain. She looked off balance, her flight hampered by the wind. We watched as she wobbled and barely made it over the top of the hedge. Desperation must have driven her out in poor weather. She had two chicks to feed. Later, the farmer who checks the nests, found only one chick had survived.
I’ll leave you with two happy photos. Snowdrops always make me feel hopeful. They return every year, whatever is happening in the world around them.
And this beautiful glass ‘vase’ of flowers- a present from a kind friend. Certainly. We are all looking for anything that brings joy at the moment. Thank goodness for kindness, friends and family. And for flowers which always make us smile.
Let me know how you are all getting on. Are you managing to sow any seeds or do any gardening yet. Take care everyone. And thank you for reading.
I’m on instagram at karengimson1 and twitter @kgimson. Come over and say hello!
Here I am, pottering about in my garden again. I must say, the weeks fly by and it’s soon time to write another column for Garden News Magazine.
I hope you enjoy today’s article. I’ve had some lovely letters of support from readers saying my ‘potterings’ have kept them upbeat and busy during the pandemic. I’m pleased to see many readers have been inspired to have a go at different gardening techniques, or decided to grow something new. And many say the recipes are tasty, and always turn out well. What a relief!
Here’s some additional photos the editor didn’t use for the column. It’s fascinating to see which ones they choose. I submit about 10 for them to select from. It takes about a day to decide what to write about, take the photos and then actually sit down and compose the piece. It’s 350 words – which is actually quite a challenge. I try to say a lot in not many words. I edit it three times before I send it, taking out any spare words each time. What a luxury it is to write the blog. No one is checking the word count on here.
My hazel plant supports in the snow. New rods have replaced any that snapped, and have been woven along the centre to add strength. We seem to be getting stormier summers, so plant supports have to be extra sturdy.
Some sweet peas I grew last summer. I’ve sown some in autumn, but the second sowing now will provide plants that flower right through to November. Successional sowing extends the season.
Here’s a photo of ‘Sunshine’ climbing French beans. Highly recommended, easy to grow and prolific. We have a freezer full, and they only take a few minutes to cook from frozen. All the flavour and goodness is captured for tasty winter meals. I’ll be starting my bean seed in May. Don’t start them off too early as they cannot be planted out until the first week of June. If sown too early, they become leggy and weak. They are very fast growing.
Here’s a larger photo of the willow heart flower arrangement in the potting shed window. It’s made from Paperwhite narcissi, alstroemeria from the poly tunnel and dried gypsophila and honesty seeds from summer. The foliage is eucalyptus saved from Christmas floral arrangements. Flowers are held in a jam jar covered in moss which has garden string twined around it, kokadama -style. We are all trying to do without florists’ foam, and using jam jars, and tiny glass test tubes works really well.
As a few of you know, I talk on the radio once a fortnight, chatting about what I’m doing in my vegetable and cut flower plot. This week, I tried valiantly to make a few twigs from my garden sound exciting. It really tested my powers of description! Anyway, if you were listening in, here are the photos to go with my interview with Ben Jackson. I was waving my arms around, explaining how you can gather foliage and off-cuts from the garden, make them into a twiggy bouquets, add lights, and plunge them in a pot. I do hope it enthused a few people to have a go and make their own Christmas decorations.
Willow stems, dried oak twigs, pine foliage and Hydrangea Annabelle flower heads with orange lanterns, Physalis alkekengi.
I decorated the hydrangea heads with some florists’ silver spray from Oasis. You only need a tiny amount.
Some old man’s beard, wild clematis vitalba adds a fluffy texture and movement to the arrangement.
Mouldable copper wire fairy lights from supermarkets only costs a few pounds. Mine came from Wilkos and use rechargeable batteries.
Tiny flowers from the hydrangea heads flutter down around me. I scoop them up and use them as table decorations. They are like nature’s confetti.
Wire lights can be threaded through dogwood stems and any greenery from the garden. This ‘bouquet’ of twigs is pushed into a plant pot of garden soil and stood by the front door. It looks like a container full of expensive plants, but in truth, it has cost me nothing. Stems will stay fresh until after Christmas due to cold and wet weather. They can be composted in the new year. So there’s no waste to go into bins.
I’ve used pine, spare Christmas tree stems (the tree was too tall), ivy, dogwood and willow to give height, and skimmia at the front. You could pop some hellebores and white heather either side to cover the base of the pot. If you have plastic pots, why not cover them with hessian to give them a natural look.
Here’s some more ideas using willow. Wind the willow or dogwood into a rough circle and keep adding more stems. Eventually you can pull it into shape and secure it with thin lengths of willow. Kept dry in the shed, wreaths will last for years. Each Christmas, I add new foliage, pine and rosemary for scent, rosy-hued hydrangea heads and clematis seeds. These are simply fed in amongst the willow stems and secured with string or florists’ reel wire.
You can add rosehips and crab apples to the willow frame. Birds tend to enjoy them, so I have to replenish the decorations every day. We were very excited to see some very small birds, possibly long-tailed tits enjoying the clematis seeds. It becomes almost a cross between a Christmas decoration and a bird feeder.
Add whatever you can find in the garden and hedgerow. In this silver birch wreath, I’ve added ivy, with green and black ivy berries, and dried cow parsley seed heads. The wind sometimes blows the clematis across the back fields, but there’s plenty more in the potting shed, ready for the festive season.
These willow stems have been folded over to form a heart. Hold ten stems in one hand. Bend half of them over and tie in the middle. Bend the other half over to form the other side of the heart, and tie in. Tie further up the stems to keep the heart shape secure. Disguise the ties -or the mechanics, as we call them- with a mini bouquet of foliage. Here I’ve used Holly, ivy, Garrya elliptica, hydrangea flowers and a few crab apples.
Willow wreaths don’t always need any decorations at all. A pretty ribbon is all that’s used on this wreath for a simple shepherd’s hut.
I decorate five bar gates around the plot. A single heart is often all that’s needed. It will cheer any Christmas Day revellers, walking along the lane. From this gate we can hear the church bells ringing. The sound carries far across the fields. It’s a wonderful spot to stand and listen for a few moments, mug of tea in hand.
Let me know what decorations you are putting up in your house and garden this year. Will it be old favourites, like mine, or something new? Get in touch and let me know, and thanks, as ever, for reading. Today, I’m celebrating my milestone 100,000 blog visitors. When I started writing, I thought just a handful of people might see my posts. I’m absolutely thrilled to see 100,000 have read about my little plot. Have a great weekend everyone.
Sunflowers have been the stars of the autumn garden. This one is multi-headed Helianthus Black Magic. I sowed seeds in March in 3″ pots and planted them out the first week of June. They survived high winds and torrential rain, even hailstones mid-summer. Summer now seems to see a pattern of stormy weather with winds gusting up to 40 miles per hour. Plants have to be sturdy to survive- and well supported, with a scaffolding of 6ft hazel poles. Many times I’ve feared for my sunflowers and tall-growing cosmos and salvias. They were bowed down, but never beaten. Much like us, really. With all our covid worries.
White dahlia My Love, with a mixed selection of sunflowers, rudbeckias and calendula, grown from seed from Mr Fothergills and Burpees Europe. This summer I took part in a social media campaign with the hashtag #GrowSomeSunshine. We grew sunflowers and made a donation to the NHS, posting photos of our flowers on twitter and instagram. The campaign, run by gardening journalist, David Hurrion, raised £3,175. I’m hoping David will repeat the campaign next summer. It’s been a cheerful way to support our wonderful nurses, doctors and NHS volunteers. I’ve had sunflowers right across the front garden, lining the path to the front door. People passing by the garden gate lean in and smile. Garden gate conversations have become a ‘thing,’ with friends from surrounding villages walking along footpaths to visit us and chat. Only two people have actually been in the garden. On sunny days, I set out chairs 2 metres apart and served biscuits in individual little wrappings. They brought their own flasks of tea. Small dispensers of hand gel sat neatly amongst the potted plants on the garden coffee tables. Things like this are starting to feel more normal now. I’m writing this here as a reminder in the future, when I want to look back and see how we lived in the summer of 2020.
I love the range of colours in modern sunflowers. This one grew from a packet of seed called All Sorts Mixed. Well-named as there were eight different sunflowers in the mix.
This one is almost pink. A lovely range from a packet of Helianthus Evening Sun. plenty of pollen. A magnet for bees. As pretty as a stained glass window.
And another photo of Black Magic, which starts off a deep, dark chocolate colour, and fades to beautiful bronze.
Scrumptious. Almost good enough to eat. Which is what will happen to them over the winter. I’ve saved seed heads and dried them on the greenhouse staging. A few will be brought out each day over winter. A feast for the birds. Sunflower stems are hollow, and make homes for ladybirds and lacewings. I’ll bundle stems together and stuff them in my ‘twiggery’ which is just a pile of twigs and stems, left in a quiet corner for insects to hibernate.
What’s looking good in your garden right now? Join in with the #SixOnSaturday hashtag on twitter and instagram and look to see what other gardeners are growing in the UK and around the world. I use it to plot and plan what to grow next year. There’s plenty of good ideas from keen gardeners. A cheerful way to spend an hour or two on a rainy autumn Saturday.
It’s been a challenging few weeks. We wanted rain. And we got it. A month’s worth in four days. Followed by Storm Ellen and 40 mile per hour winds. Anything not firmly staked, flopped over. Sunflowers and cosmos took a bashing. It’s taken a couple of days to prop up plants, tie them in, and sweep up twigs and leaf litter. I sometimes wish I was passionate about interior design instead of gardening. Wouldn’t it be lovely to create a scene, and have nothing smash it to pieces. But, sadly, I’m not remotely interested in being indoors. I’m only really happy when I’m outside, in the fresh air. Anyway, to cheer us all up, here’s some photos of what’s in flower in my garden today.
My new rose, Belle de Jour. Rose of the Year for 2021. Flowers open clear, bright yellow and fade to sunset shades of peaches and cream. There’s a delicate fruity scent and plenty of pollen for bees. Nice healthy green leaves, which is good for an organic garden like mine.
I think we can definitely say these flowers stand up to the weather. Some roses ‘ball’ in the rain. They fail to open and turn to mush. Luckily, Belle de Jour copes with a deluge; there’s not a mark on the petals. My rose came, by post, from Roses UK which promotes the British rose trade. I’m sure the new rose will be a huge success. It’s looking lovely in my garden already. And I’m always pleased to support British nurseries.
I’m growing a new variety of courgette, ‘Summer Holiday.’ Isn’t it pretty. I don’t know why, but this photo makes me so happy. It looks such a gorgeous little thing, bright yellow, with a twisty green stem. It’s a joy. And so easy to grow. I’m in favour of anything easy, this summer. Everything seems to have been hard work, so a highly productive trouble-free plant is very welcome. There’s a recipe for courgette and cream cheese soup to follow. It only takes ten minutes to cook.
Courgette flowers look beautiful too. They only last a day, but are a sunny, joyful sight. I’ve planted courgette and squash all along the base of my climbing bean frame. They make good ground cover and smother weeds.
Here’s the beans I’m growing this year. Don’t they look colourful.
Yellow: Climbing French bean ‘Sunshine’. A new variety.
Green: Climbing French bean ‘Limka’.
Purple: Dwarf French bean ‘Red Swan’.
All growing together along the hazel A-frame support, with blue morning glory intertwined. The dwarf French beans grow to around 122cm (4ft). Climbing beans are around 2.5m (8ft). Every day, I’m gleefully throwing handfuls of beans into the freezer. They will be such a treat mid-winter when fresh greens are in short supply.
I have a newly-planted border all along the path to the front door. It was infested with couch grass. Over the winter I dug out all the plants and turned over the soil, searching for every scrap of tiny white couch grass roots. I had to do this four times before getting on top of the problem. In May, I planted the border with annuals; sunflowers, nicotiana, cosmos, and underplanted them with salvias, which I treat as bedding plants as they are not very hardy here.
I favour dark dusky-coloured sunflowers. This one pictured above is ‘Black Magic.’ It’s a multi-headed sunflower the colour of dark chocolate. Bees love it, and the seed will feed birds in winter. I won’t bother growing ‘Italian White’ again. The first sign of a gale and the petals curled up and dropped off. Not hardy enough for my windswept plot.
If you like yellow sunflowers you would love these, growing in the back fields behind my garden. We cheered when we saw the farmer sowing the seeds in spring. It’s a wildlife -friendly mix to attract pollinators, and the seedheads feed birds and mammals over winter.
The ridgeway footpath goes all along the side of the sunflower field. We walk along it twice a day, as we are still in the habit of our lockdown exercise regime. And some of us are still not venturing far, as we can’t take any risks. I’m still getting over a serious illness from three years ago, and although surgeons gave me a second chance, I’m not strong enough to fight off infection. Doctors nowadays are forthright. And mine, straight to the point, said a ventilator wouldn’t be an option. So there we are. I have to be careful. I’m not dwelling on it. I’m just grateful for small mercies, sunflowers included, as I can gaze at them and feel happy. I don’t know how, but I can.
We still have swallows flying here. They must be finding plenty of insects. I’ll miss them when they go. I think of the journey they have to make, such tiny birds. Such a long way. It’s always an anxious time waiting for them to return in spring. Maybe, I’m going to have to get my courage up, and be like the swallows. Set off into the unknown. I can’t stay here forever, as lovely as it is, and as tempting as it’s become to say how well I’m coping. Someday soon, I have to set forth. Wish me luck!
On the footpath, going home, I pass by this old crab apple tree. It must be 100 years old, the size of its trunk. It makes a natural arch over the pathway. I like to gaze into the distance and wonder how the view might have changed over the past century. Probably not a lot as it’s still all farmland round here. But the people who’ve passed by this tree, their lives would have been very different 100 years ago. We have so much to be grateful for.
Nearing home, by our field gate, you can see the row of trees we planted 30 years ago when we were in our 20s. We never thought those little saplings would grow into a wood. And we didn’t know how much joy they would give us, watching the leaves change through the seasons, and giving a home to birds and wildlife. This summer, these daisies suddenly appeared. On sunny days, they have a strong chamomile scent. They may only be weeds, but they are a lovely sight, even so. Don’t you agree.
How has your garden fared this summer with the heatwave, drought and storms? It feels like we have faced many challenges, all round. Let me know what’s looking good in your garden right now, and whether you are managing to get out and about yet, or like me, waiting for your moment.
Calendula Snow Princess. Starts off butter yellow and fades to cream. Edges look as if they have been dipped in chocolate. Each flower is different. Such a pretty thing.
I talk about my calendulas in this week’s Garden News magazine. It’s quite a challenge to say a lot in just 350 words. But luckily I like a challenge. And I’m getting some lovely feedback from readers who say they enjoy hearing what I’m getting up to on my plot.
I have to weave in and out of the calendulas along the path. Verbascum provides a lot of flowers for minimum space. If cut back repeatedly, it flowers until first frosts, and certainly brings in plenty of pollinators.
Sweet peas are in full production. There’s Wiltshire Ripple in the foreground, and Mayflower 400 behind.
We’ve had four hoglets born in the garden this summer, one less than last year. They are all thriving and putting on weight. I’m remembering to put water out for them every night. They drink from the tiny bucket pond on the veg plot and the horseshoe wildlife pond. Early- ripening plums are falling to the ground in the orchard, providing a feast for the hedgehogs. Luckily there’s enough for all of us to share.
And my sixth picture this week, isn’t strictly speaking from the garden, but this little kitten has come to live here and is currently keeping me company in the potting shed. He’s slept all day in a fruit crate, having kept us awake half the night with fun and games. We haven’t decided on a name yet. Suggestions welcome. He’s very bossy. Brave and intrepid. We’ve never had a kitten before. All our cats have been adults or seniors from the RSPCA. But this little fellow is here because of covid. Vets cancelled all neutering operations, and the inevitable happened when the mother cat managed to get out. I like to think that he is something positive to have come out of this challenging time. Certainly we will never forget the year he was born. And he’s making us all smile -when we haven’t really had much to smile about recently. Honestly, who could resist!
Let me know what’s making you happy this weekend. How’s your garden looking at the moment? Have you managed to meet up with family and friends? Get in touch and let me know.
Phacelia is a bee magnet. I’m growing it around the edges of the vegetable plot. It’s an annual, but self-seeds readily. It can also be grown as a green manure crop, but for this use, it has to be turned into the soil before it flowers. I’ve been re-reading Jean Vernon’s Secret Lives of Garden Bees. Writing about Phacelia, she says: ” Look closely at foraging bees and you’ll notice the blue pollen balls that they collect from these flowers. ”
Geranium pratense. Meadow cranesbill. A native wild flower found along the grass verges here. Seed has blown into the garden and it grows along the hedgerows and amongst ornamentals. It’s very welcome.
Occasionally it throws up a white variant, and also flowers in delicate shades of lilac. I love the green ‘veins’ on the flowers. It reminds me of the markings on a butterfly wing.
Over on the veg plot, I found these flowers this week. They are potato flowers from the Shetland Black tubers growing in compost sacks. Aren’t they beautiful. You can tell the potatoes are part of the deadly nightshade family. I’ve never grown black potatoes before, so I’m eagerly awaiting the harvest.
Dianthus cathusianorum. In the gravel edges on the front drive, these bright pink flowers wave about on 50cm stems. They must love the free-draining conditions. We have to remember to drive around them. The scent is wonderful. Spicy. Heady. Memorable.
And finally, sweet peas. These are from a range called ‘Ripple Mixed.’ I’ve grown Wiltshire Ripple for many years, but the mixed pink and purple- striped flowers are fast becoming new favourites. Highly scented. Nice long stems. Long lasting in a vase. Recommended.
That’s my six for today. What’s looking good in your garden this weekend?
Why not go over to the propagator’s blog and see what everyone is selecting for their six today. It’s fascinating to see what everyone is growing, all around the world.
Sweet peas, sweet williams and roses are in full flight. I’m amazed anything survived the recent torrential hail and high winds. Some of the tree leaves have holes where the hail went straight through them. But flowers were unperturbed.
Rose Cerise Bouquet climbs to the top of a mature beech tree. It thrashed about in the storm, sending a cascade of red petal confetti across the lawn. It’s such a floriferous rose, there’s hundreds more flowers ready and waiting to open. It will bloom, on and off, until November.
I also feared for the climbing New Dawn rose. The willow tree supporting it was almost stripped of its leaves. Most ended up in the pond. There was no water to be seen. Just rose petals and shredded leaves. However, remaining rose buds opened, and the tree has put out tiny new baby leaves to replace those whisked away in the storm. I’m sure nature is sending us a message. Through troubled times, there’s always destruction, fear and grief followed by renewal. We have struggled through Corona virus times. But we will recover.
Pinks and carnations are in full flower now. I’ve planted old-fashioned types, Mrs Sinkins white and Doris Pink. I’ve also invested in some modern ‘Devon’ hybrids, Devon Cream, Devon Wizard. Cranmere Pool, Letitia Wyatt. The names sound as delicious as the wonderful scent. A good one to look out for is ‘Memories,’ an improvement on the heritage variety Mrs Sinkins with good weather tolerance and it is also repeat flowering.
I wouldn’t be without sweet williams. I’m sowing next year’s flowers now. A pinch of seed in a 3″ pot, or a sprinkle in a half seed tray. Leave at the base of a sheltered house wall and they’ll germinate in a few weeks. I’ll prick them out into a full seed tray and then plant them into their final positions for them to settle and produce roots and leaves this year. Being biennials, they will grow now, and flower next year. A whole bed of flowers for just a few pounds. I’ll grow the highly scented auricular-eye type, and one called Sooty, which is almost black.
I’m just planting the last of the sweet pea seedlings. The October-sown plants are in full production. But I’ll want a supply right through until first frosts. This is the secret of growing. Always keep sowing a few more and a few more. Make sure you have a back-up supply incase anything goes wrong. I’ve just had a neighbour at the front gate. Do I have any climbing beans, by any chance, he asks? Luckily, there’s some in the propagator – a back-up in case mine get nibbled. He can have these to replace the ones taken by rabbits. We chat about the weather, slugs, snails and mice. And covid. What are we to do, he asks? I shrug my shoulders. Keep going, is the only answer I have. Don’t give up. Celebrate the successes and don’t be beaten by the failures. Help one another where we can, and try to enjoy the simple things. Look closely at all the beauty in the world. That’s all I can say.
This week, it’s mostly all about roses. As you would expect, wild roses have my heart. The garden is surrounded on two sides by tall hedges. We’ve never pruned them in 30 years. It’s one of those jobs we’ve always put off as being too big to tackle. Secretly, I love the wildness. Who says hedges have to be manicured. Who cares what people think. I love the tangle of honeysuckle and wild dog roses cascading from the top of 30 foot hawthorn. It’s a sight that gladdens my heart. I don’t mind if people assume we are too lazy to keep the hedgerow trimmed. I’ll hold my head up high. I’ve always been rather stubborn, you see. It can be a good thing when life gets tough. I’m quietly determined. I don’t make a big noise, but it’s amazing what can be achieved with calm tenacity.
Just pause for a moment and gaze at this pink hawthorn. This opens white, and fades to a beautiful shell pink. The hedgerows around here are mostly snowy-white Crataegus monogyna. Every now and again, there’s a pretty pink variant. It stops you in your tracks. You can’t fail to just stand and stare, it’s so breathtakingly lovely.
Rosa Canina takes full advantage and climbs high into the branches of trees and along the hedgerow. It’s a good year for flowers. Plenty of pollen for bees, and there will be masses of bright red hips providing winter food for birds.
Climbing through a mature willow next to the pond, there’s pale pink New Dawn. Again, I never prune this rose, or spray it. It just rambles where it likes. I expect the wind blowing through the tree keeps the rose disease-free. Blackspot tends to thrive in gardens where roses are surrounded by still air. In this windswept garden, luckily we have no trouble from either pests or diseases. It’s even too windy for aphids to get too plentiful. Those that survive, get eaten by birds.
We have a very overgrown pergola. The phrase ‘overgrown’ seems rather prevalent this week, I’ve noticed. The pergola goes from the back of the house, right round to the front drive. For half of it’s length, there’s this glorious rose Constance Spry. For about three weeks it has enormous highly-scented flowers. It only flowers once, but what a display! I’ve planted clematis, jasmine and ivy to extend the season. It’s a Rose I would never be without.
Constance Spry makes a lovely cut flower. Here’s it’s partnered with Sweet William which is just starting to bloom. It’s time to sow some more Sweet William for next year. I’ll use a half seed tray, good seed compost, and I’ll sprinkle the seeds sparingly. The tray will go at the base of the house wall on the north side, and seeds will germinate in about two to three weeks. I’ll then prick the seed out and put them in their own 3″ pots to grow on, or I’ll plant some in a holding bed on the veg plot. In August, they can be dug up and put in their flowering positions or planted out from the 3″ pots.
Here’s Constance Spry in a cutting basket with highly-scented Mme. Isaac Pereire, a heritage bourbon rose which dates back to 1841. This repeat-flowers all summer and mingles beautifully with Clematis Purpurea Plena Elegans. Plena means double, and these flowers are like purple pom-poms from August/ September onwards.
Finally, here’s the old china silk rose, Mutabilis. Much loved by bees. And, as you can guess, also grows quite happily without much attention, if any, from me.
As usual, after we’ve looked in the garden, there’s always a walk along the ridgeway path at the back of the garden. Today, there’s a video of skylarks. Turn the sound up loud. The farmer has planted wide bands of wild flowers around all the field margins. There’s a whole field of sunflowers and millet for wildlife. This year we have many skylarks. A few years ago we had a very poor summer with only one skylark. There is nothing sadder than the sound of a lonely skylark.
We’ve had some spectacular sunsets this week. I hope you’ve enjoyed this Saturday’s walk around the garden. Are you growing any roses in your garden? What’s looking good where you are this week. Thanks again for joining me in my garden. All welcome, for virtual visits!
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I like to follow the Six on Saturday meme and see what everyone is growing. #SOS
Rose Constance Spry. Planted when my youngest daughter was born. Roses speak of celebration, and this one really shouts a welcome -to-the-world for Rachel. It flowers for three weeks in early June and fills the garden with a glorious fruit-salad perfume.
Where I am today. Up a ladder. Trying to control the tangle of clematis, jasmine and ivy. This has been allowed to run wild for four years. Little and often might be my approach to tackling the problem. Otherwise, it seems an impossible task. The pergola runs from the back garden to the front drive. A shady walkway in the heat. I’m not going to rush the task. Luckily I’ve got a new Henchman ladder to help with the task. No more wobbling on unstable step ladders.
Alongside the pergola there’s a wedding cake tree, Cornus controversa variegata. Some of the layers have deteriorated. I need to take advice on pruning to try to get it back in shape. Pruning the pergola will give it more light. Behind, climbing to the top of a mature ash tree is Rosa Cerise Bouquet which flowers on and off right through the summer into October.
Another rose looking lovely at the moment is Rhapsody in Blue which has been moved three times. Just goes to show, you can move roses, despite what it says in the books. Highly recommended. Disease resistant and free flowering. Lovely scent and unusual colour.
My grandfather’s rose, Zephirine Drouhin. He gave me this before he died. It’s wonderful to have something from his garden to remember him by. I know it was a favourite of his. I’m sure he knew it would give years of joy. And especially at the moment when everything seems uncertain and Covid has caused so much stress. It is as if he is still helping me, through all the plants coming into flower now. A reminder that life goes on, the seasons keep going. So must we.
My grandfather grew all his fruit and vegetables. People did in those days. Luckily, I watched, followed like a shadow and learned. And he gave me some of his garden tools, so when I’m hoeing the garden, I think of him, working his veg plot and feeding his family. I wonder what he was thinking while he was hoeing his garden. Did he find the peace that I’m finding right now. Was it a comfort to him, as it is to me, through all the trials and tribulations life throws at you.
Foxgloves have seeded in one of the veg plot beds. I’m digging these up and putting them in the wild garden, to make room for winter greens, Brussels sprouts and kale. Flowers will be picked for jam jar posies. I’m putting flowers on the village green again this summer to raise money for Rainbows Hospice for children. There will be an honesty box for donations.
The first sweet peas. Always popular in my jam jar posies. These were sown in root trainers in October. I’ve just sown some more for late flowering through to November. This one is from a packet of seed called Wiltshire Ripple Mixed. All have speckled flowers and a picotee edge. The scent is just wonderful.
As usual, when we’ve walked around the garden, there’s a short ramble along the ridgeway path to my ‘hole in the hedge’ porthole. It’s a viewing point I discovered a few years back. I didn’t make it, nature did, and I watch deer, rabbits, foxes, birds, owls, and hares, quietly and unnoticed.
Today, the May blossom has gone over, but there’s beautiful dogwood flowers framing the view. In an ancient hedge, there’s always something of interest. A tapestry of flowers, rosehips, crab apples, and seeds.
It’s just a humble wild dogwood. But it is as beautiful to me as any ornamental and expensive cornus tree.
And finally, after all that walking, sit a while in my 1930s summerhouse -on-a turntable. In the heat, it’s turned to the shade, facing the wood and pond. A perfect place to contemplate life and all the reasons to be grateful. All the things I value are not the things that can be bought. Hopefully my grandfather would be proud of the person I have become. I’d love to tell him how things have turned out. And that I’ve been happy, thanks to his good advice.
A seedling sorbus mountain ash. Sometimes nature delivers such beautiful surprises. We didn’t plant this tree, it arrived all by itself. We allow plants to grow and any that fit in with our wildlife-centred scheme of things are allowed to stay. This seedling produces beautiful creamy white flowers. Much loved by bees. Then in the autumn, rich orange berries. Much loved by blackbirds. My youngest daughter Rachel has just bought her first house. What a time to be negotiating a house purchase, in the middle of a pandemic. It’s been extremely stressful. But holding on to our hats and keeping calm, between us we have steered our daughter through choppy waters. And she and her boyfriend Sam have a (rather scruffy) old house with a very large garden. So today I’m digging up a few sorbus seedlings and potting them up for her new plot. I’ll also search out for some wild cherry, maple and oak saplings. The same size as those we planted when we moved here 30 years ago, our heads full of dreams to create a lovely home and have children. Now we are watching the youngsters cross the threshold of their first home, and it brings back all our memories. History repeating itself. We get to re-live our joy, as we watch them start their lives together.
As you can see, our little saplings have grow tall. The mini-wood is carpeted in bluebells and patches of wild garlic and three cornered leak.
Here’s the view from the pond. The turntable summerhouse is turned to the garden today to catch the morning sun.
The leaf-mould paths are lined with white lacy cow parsley. A favourite time of the year.
Wild flowers sweep along the edges of the paths. These are starry stitchwort, or stellaria.
Our little plot provides all the firewood we need for our log burner. A habitat for hedgehogs and beetles, insects and grass snakes too.
By the pond there’s a huge mature viburnum. I believe it is Viburnum plicatum Mariesii. It looks beautiful all year round. In May, it’s covered in flat creamy white flowers, and in winter the snow and ice settles in layers on the branches.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s walk around my garden. I’ve made a sunny place to sit and read in the front garden. Just right for mulling over the past, and looking forward to the future. I’m sure you’ll all raise a glass and join us in wishing Rachel and Sam many congratulations. Good luck with everything, and always be happy. Life’s not always a bed of roses, but if you stick together, help one another and always be kind, you’ll have a wonderful life together.
Bluebells. These came from my grandfather Ted Foulds’ garden originally. A lovely reminder of him. There was only a small patch to start with. Now they run from the front to the back garden. It’s surprising how fast they spread, without any help from me. There’s some wild garlic in amongst them too, which I’m trying to control a little this year.
Trees are leafing up so quickly in the sunshine and heat this year. The bluebells will have to be quick to flower and set seed before they are shaded out. This is the path past the summerhouse to the pond.
The view from the summerhouse. It looks like a jungle already. There’s oak, beech, hornbeams, cherry, willow and ash in the mini-wood. All the trees came as saplings from the borough council when we moved here 30 years ago. There was a scheme to plant trees on farmland. I think it was linked to the woodland trust. We applied, and they delivered 260 saplings for us to plant. The whole family set to and helped us plant them in a day or so.
All along the woodland paths there’s a lovely white starry flower, I think it’s called stitchwort. I didn’t plant it, but it’s very welcome here.
It seems to be all green and white shades today. May blossom or hawthorn is suddenly in flower.
Such a beautiful sight at dawn. These flowers were just in bud yesterday. The hedgerow is so beautiful just now with sections of crab apple, maple, hazel and viburnum all in a hurry to wake from their winter sleep. The scent from the crab apple blossom is something I’ve never noticed before. I think the heat is enhancing the scent.
Oops, that eight photos. I’m sure no one’s counting…..
Enjoy your weekend. Here’s a view through my ‘gap in the hedge.’ I didn’t make this portal, nature did. I love to peer through and watch the wildlife. There’s always something happening in the back fields. Lovely to see some green shoots in the fields too. Fields have been bleak and bare all winter, after the flooding.
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If you have been listening in to Gardens Hour on Wednesdays on BBC Radio Leicester, you’ll have heard our ‘ten minute tips’ recorded in Ben Jackson’s garden. I always come home and plant the same varieties in my windswept country garden. Ben’s plot is in a lovely sheltered walled garden in a village. His soil is beautifully free-draining, in a garden which must have been worked for 100 years. Mine is cold wet clay, created from farm land over the past 30 years. It’s an interesting contrast and I love to see how plants perform in both our gardens.
Here’s an update on plants, showing what they are looking like today.
We planted tulips for cut flowers on 29th October. These are Exotic Emperor, a new early-flowering tulip, a double form of the popular White Emperor. It has a long flowering period with delicately green flamed cream petals. Looks good for nearly six weeks.
We planted a ‘cut flower mix’ and mine included this lovely Tulip Flaming Purissima. This comes in a range of creams and pinks. Very pretty and reminiscent of the old fashioned flame tulips made famous in the Tulip-Fever era. Very long lasting, and weather resistant.
We planted bulbs ‘lasagna’ style in layers. Here’s my big Italian pot by my front door. This had snowdrops and dwarf iris in January, dwarf tete a tete daffodils in February, and now today has Hyacinth Blue Jacket, Exotic Emperor tulips and scented Geranium narcissi. When these are over, I’ll replant the pot with scented -leaved geraniums for summer.
In both our gardens we planted a range of daffodils to flower from February right through till the end of April. Here’s my pheasants eye narcissi planted under the cherry trees in the orchard. I’m so pleased with these, I’ll mass plant them in September for an even better display this time next year. I’ve gone round the garden making notes and taking photos to remind me where there are gaps and what changes I want to make. If I didn’t make notes, I’d forget by the time September arrives.
Talking about daffodils, we planted these Paperwhite narcissi on December 2nd. Some flowered at Christmas, but I held some pots back in the cold potting shed and brought them out a week apart so that I could have flowers for vases right through to the end of a March. Flowering times are dictated by amounts of daylight and heat. So plants can be manipulated to flower over a period of time.
We planted up our dahlias on 31st January. These were overwintered in a frost-free shed. I took 2″ cuttings in February and these have rooted in the propagator in 3″ pots at 18C. Above are the dahlias making really good growth in their seed trays, half filled with compost to start them off. They will stay in the greenhouse until the end of May.
We sowed our tomatoes on 28 February, and I pricked them out mid March. They are growing nicely just out of the propagator and on the greenhouse benches. I keep the greenhouse heated at 6C.
On 9th March we planted our tiny plug plants which cost about 60p each. We planted them individually in 3″ pots and put them on a sunny windowsill.
They have grown really well, and I’ve managed to take three lots of cuttings from the mother plants, which means lots of bedding plants for free. Taking cuttings makes them grow strong and bushy too, instead of tall and spindly.
We also planted up some impatiens plugs into 3″ pots. These are now in flower and I’m putting them into their summer containers to grow on. I didn’t pay for these plants. They were free samples from the grower, Ball Colgrave.
If you are listening in today, Wednesday 8th April, this is where I’m talking from because I’m isolating due to covid. I’ve got 100 cosmos seedlings in 3″ pots including a new variety Apricot Lemonade. I’m also growing calendula pot marigolds which are great for bees and butterflies. I’m growing the very pale lemon Snow Princess, and pretty calendula Orange Flash.
I’ve just planted my new potatoes, Charlotte and Lady Christl in two of the divided beds. They are planted 12″ (30cm) apart, 4″ (9cm) deep.
I’ve also planted my broad beans, De Monica which is a new variety specially bred for spring sowing. I’ve sown double rows, with plants and seeds 9″ (23cm) apart. Seeds were planted 2″ (5cm) deep.
And this is the view from the greenhouse and potting shed. Turn up the sound to hear the birdsong. There’s a bank of wild cherry trees on two sides of the garden.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this tour of my greenhouse and garden. Hopefully the photos have jogged your memory about what we’ve been growing for our ‘ten minute tips.’ I’ll keep you posted on the progress of all these plants. I’m hoping the garden is going to be quite productive and very colourful this summer. That’s three uses of the word ‘hope,’ but under the circumstances, I think we all need some hope, don’t we.
Patience often pays off. I’ve been watching the prices for this new and expensive snowdrop. Then, when most of the flowers had gone over, the garden centre reduced the price! It was my lucky day. Galanthus Polar Bear is my new favourite snowdrop, and it’s a quite a beauty, isn’t it.
I managed to find a pot with flowers still in bud. It’s a very late flowering type with short pedicels, making the flowers fling out and look up at you. So unusual, as most snowdrops bow their heads and look down. It’s got a lot of charm, and is the star of my potting shed windowsill at the moment.
While we are still talking about snowdrops, I thought I’d show you some snowy photos of the garden. It’s been the mildest wettest winter on record here, and this is the first, and only snow we’ve had so far. It makes the garden look magical and hides all imperfections (fortunately.) No weeds are on show, and brambles look ornamental with an iced topping of snow. Here you can see my greenhouse, polytunnel and potting shed set up, all close together to save walking too far between them. In front of the potting shed there’s some renovated 1930s plant nursery trolleys. Very useful for moving plant pots about, and for staging potted displays. My second-hand poly tunnel has doors both ends which is great for good air circulation. The 20ft Alton Cedar greenhouse is also second-hand and renovated by my husband. We painted it black, and made matching black staging inside. Beyond is my cut flower and veg patch and then the orchard, before you reach the paddock gate leading to the ridgeway footpath.
In the exotic border in front of the potting shed, I’ve left stems and seed heads intact for birds to eat and insects to find shelter. These innula seeds look pretty with a topping of snow.
The horseshoe pond can viewed from the potting shed windows. There’s a gently-sloping boulder beach to stand on, and this gives easy access for hedgehogs, frogs, newts and grass snakes. It’s very calming to stand and watch the ripples from raindrops. Today the pond is a cauldron of frogs, mating and producing frog spawn.
From the pond you can see the cut flower and veg patch. My hazel sweet pea supports have weathered three named storms on consecutive weekends. Really, if they can cope with all that, I think they will stand firm and strong for the summer display. There’s little slab paths between the plots so I don’t have to walk on the soil. It’s a no-dig garden inspired by Charles Dowding who’s been a patient and valued mentor these last few years, along with his partner Stephanie Hafferty. They’ve both given me lots of advice and I’ve got more value out of my plot thanks to their suggestions.
At the end of the veg plot there’s a small orchard, rather neglected. We’ve pruned it this winter which means we might lose some of the crop in the summer. But over a few years we will get the trees back into shape and down to a manageable size for harvesting. Under the trees I’m planning a wild flower patch. I’m going to leave some grass and see what happens, I will sow some plug plants in another area, and finally I’ll try a wild flower lawn, ready seeded. I’ll report back on the project.
Finally here’s the view down the field hedge tunnel. This path is made from bark and brushwood chippings from the garden, put through my new Stihl electric shredder. It saves a fortune on bagged bark supplies, plus helps me recycle waste from the garden.
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We had beautiful sunny weather for precisely ten minutes today. I ran out, opened the summerhouse doors, took some deep breaths of lovely fresh air. And then it snowed. That was the end of my time in the garden. Me and the cat ran back inside.
I’m sharing six photos of snowdrops, as this is the last day for them here. The snow will finish the snowdrop season in my garden, but it has been a lovely long spell. Snowdrops opened early in the mild temperatures, and they’ve stood up well to the rain, being under flood water several times in the past few weeks.
My favourite snowdrop Galanthus Madeleine has been stunning again this year. I bought it three years ago from Thenford Gardens. I shared a pot of six bulbs with a friend. It’s the most I’ve ever paid for a pot of snowdrops, but it was worth it. This year, I had nine flowers and plenty of extra leaves which shows it is happy and spreading. Pictured above are some of them on show in the potting shed. I love the way the petals fold around each other like the wings of a bee. So delicate.
Here is Madeleine fully open on the potting shed windowsill. It’s a very pretty snowdrop at all stages. The yellow markings are brighter in sunnier situations, and bulbs don’t like to be too wet.
Viridapice is another snowdrop I love. It has such pretty delicate lime green markings. Another good do-er. It is spreading nicely under the ash trees in the wild garden.
Living on the boundary between Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire, I felt I had to have Galanthus Robin Hood. I’ve been many times to Sherwood Forest where Robin and his merry men are said to have lived. This snowdrop got its name from the crossbow X- shape green markings. It’s a very tall snowdrop and I have it at the top of the garden so you’ll pass by on the way to the back fields footpath. I have Galanthus Little John nearby, and I’m searching for a snowdrop called Maid Marian to complete the trio. They make me smile every time I see them.
Regular readers will know that I’m a bit lackadaisical with labelling. Sadly I’ve lost the name of this beauty. Maybe a reader will know what it’s called. Isn’t it striking though, with three petals spreading out like wings.
Quite honestly, I’m just as happy with our native snowdrop Galanthus nivalis. Plain and simple. It’s gorgeous.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this weekend snowdrop tour. I also hope you are having better weather than us at the moment. We’ve had a week with 12 Environment Agency flood alerts in one day. The greenhouse has flooded more times than I can count. I just keep sweeping the mud and water out of the door. I’ve never known a winter like it.
Please leave a message below to let me know what your gardens look like right now. How are you coping with the deluge?
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Last chance today to see the snowdrops at Easton Walled Gardens. Opens 11am -4pm. I visited last week for a preview and if you listen in to BBC Radio Leicester you might have heard me talking about the history of the gardens.
Daffodils are just starting to flower at the same time as snowdrops. It’s been very mild and wet they year.
Yellow cornus mas (cornelian cherry) and white snowdrops. A perfect combination.
The summerhouse and spring flowers. You can hire the venue for an afternoon. Lovely spot for tea and cakes.
A favourite view of the walled garden. Sweet peas will be grown along the sunny walls this summer.
Looking across the terraces for a view of the steps and topiary yew.
Apple tree pruning in progress. I love the shaped apple trees and heritage varieties at Easton. I watched carefully how the pruning is managed. Might have a go at home. Lots of inspiration in this garden.
The finished topiary apple tree. Trained around a circle. Looks architectural and productive. Very pretty with apple blossom and bright red fruit to follow.
Spring bulbs in the woodland near to the gatehouse. The hellebores are looking fabulous at the moment.
I particularly liked this pretty hellebore with a ruffled centre.
Stone troughs look beautiful planted with spring bulbs. I might copy this idea. I have a small stone sink covered in moss with nothing growing in it at the moment. Was just waiting to decide what to do with it.
I can never go home without buying a pot or two of bulbs. The cyclamen coum are looking very cheerful. I fell in love with the dwarf iris. There’s a pale blue one called Painted Lady. I couldn’t resist.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this slide show of photos. Even if you can’t get there today, bookmark the gardens for a visit in spring, and make a note of the dates for the sweet pea festival, which is always a lovely day out.
Welcome again to a peaceful walk around my garden. Enjoy the sunshine and spring flowers. The temperature today is 9C. There was frost overnight. It’s still too wet to garden, so I’m continuing to tidy the potting shed and mooch in the greenhouse. I expect all the spring jobs will come at once and I’ll soon be dashing about. But for now, it’s a slow meander around the pathways, taking in every tiny jewel-like flower, breathing in the honey-scent of snowdrops. Looking in the pond for signs of life- no frogspawn yet. Soon though. There are stirrings. I peer into the water trough and watch a tiny water boatman. I watch like a child in a trance as the tiny oar-like legs propel the boatman around its miniature world. A world I created. A simple metal tank, with a few spare oxygenating plants thrown in. I marvel at how easy it is to help wildlife. I quietly whisper ” I made this for you.” The water boatman dips and dives and delights in its domain. And I revel in every second of quiet and calming observation, with no other purpose than to just enjoy this moment.
White primulas on the garden tables. We’ve had honey bees looking for pollen, and a few sleepy bumble bees ‘bumbling’ about crashing around the garden. I’ve rescued a few, utterly helpless and disorientated, and set them upon a patch of wild primroses.
Aconites, or gold coins, as we call them, are spreading nicely in the far corners of the garden, undisturbed. This is the first year they have had to fight with cowparsley leaves, emerging early due to warm temperatures. I might have to intervene.
There’s more cowparsley at the top of the garden. I’ve never seen it look so lush in February. The hellebores will have a race to flower and set seed before being over-run by the pretty but invasive weeds.
At the top of the garden we store our wood ready for chopping for the fire. I stood and marvelled at the beauty of this red-stained heartwood. Sadly the tree succumbed to disease and died. But it will have another purpose for a year or two as a home for spiders, woodlice, springtails, beetles – insects that will in turn provide food for mammals such as hedgehogs, and birds. Blackbirds and robins thrive in this garden.
Snowdrops are spreading along the leafmould paths. Each year I divide them and move them further along the tree-lined tracks.
Snowdrop corner. Filling out nicely. Snowdrops come from Easton Walled Gardens, Hodsock Priory and National Garden Scheme open garden days.
Snowdrops look cheerful placed on the potting shed windowsill where I can look out and see them while I’m working indoors.
I’m very fond of this snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis Viridapice. Such delicate green-tipped petals.
I bought just three Madeline snowdrops three years ago from Thenford gardens. It must be happy, as now there’s nine flowers. It grows in nice moist leaf-mould soil under deciduous trees.
But I’m just as happy with my plain native snowdrops, Galanthus nivalis, growing all along the hedgerow between the garden and the lane.
Regular readers know that after a ramble around the garden, I always take you out of the top gate and along the ridgeway footpath behind my plot. It’s good to see the changing seasons in the countryside. Our neighbouring farmer has finally managed to plough the field. It’s the first time he’s been able to get on the land due to the record amounts of rain we’ve had here over autumn and winter. Ditches are still full, and overflowing at the bottom of the hill.
There’s still a few crab apples lying in the hedgerow. We had a record harvest last autumn. Good news for all the birds and mammals eating them through the winter.
Some welcome signs of spring. Blackthorn blossom is starting to emerge.
And elderflower leaves are unfurling. The hedgerow is waking up.
Almost hidden in the brambles is a concrete trig point. A reminder of the past. Measurements were taken from theodolites placed on top. This one dates back to around 1936. They were built between the 1930s and 1962 and sited on the peaks of hills. It’s no wonder our garden is so windswept. We are at the highest point for miles around.
I hope you’ve enjoyed your walk around my garden. Leave me a message to let me know what’s flowering in your garden right now. And thank you for reading. I’ve checked the ‘stats’ and I am amazed to see 140,000 views for the piece on the dangers of sepsis and gardening injuries, and 70,000 views of these quiet rambles around my garden. I’m very grateful for every single reader.
It’s a wonderful moment when potted spring bulbs suddenly flower. They seem to be in bud for weeks. Then virtually overnight, all the iris and dwarf daffodils burst into life. Colour at last. It’s much appreciated on a dark cold February day.
I planted shallow pans of bulbs on October 12th last year. Dwarf iris Katherine Hodgkin is a pale blue beauty with markings resembling blue ink pen lines. Each winter I try something new, and this time I’ve chosen iris reticulata Blue Note, very striking with deep indigo flowers and white markings on purple black falls.
Bulbs are grown on in the protection of the greenhouse over winter, but as soon as they flower I carry the pots about and set them on the garden tables. It’s so cheerful to look out of the house windows and see something colourful.
I’ve used pussy willow and hazel catkins to prop up the paper white narcissi. They have a habit of flopping everywhere, but look lovely with a few stems supporting them. On the right of the table there’s some cherry stems in a Kilner jar. Picked now and brought indoors they will open early for a glorious pink blossom display.
Scented paper whites might be too strong for indoors, but on the garden tables they are perfect. The creamy white flowers are a pretty accompaniment to emerging fluffy grey willow catkins.
A large Sankey terracotta plant pot of Narcissus February Gold makes a centrepiece for the picnic table. Hazel twigs are used for supports.
Here’s how I started out in October with a selection of terracotta plant pots, many inherited from my grandfather Ted Foulds.
I use a mix of 50/50 peat free compost and grit for good drainage. Bulbs are planted half way down the pots. They are watered once and placed on the greenhouse staging.
Pots are topped with extra grit to finish them off. This keeps the flowers clean and stops them being splashed with soil when watering.
Hyacinths are almost perched on the top of compost in individual 4″ pots. These are placed in a huge plant pot under the potting shed bench in dark, cool, frost free conditions and brought out just before Christmas when flower spikes are showing.
Here’s the view from the potting shed in October as I’m planting all these bulbs. A lovely reminder of all the sunny autumn days we had.
For contrast, here’s an oak tree from the lane where I live. Just as beautiful. Like a charcoal pencil drawing.
Have your spring bulbs started to flower this week? Are you trying anything new, like me, as well as sticking to a few old favourites too.
Get in touch and let me know what’s happening in your garden at the moment.
I am @kgimson on twitter
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Links: I like to join in with Cathy for #IAVOM In a vase on Monday, but this week is was working, and my flowers are in pots! But I’ve read and caught up with everyone’s postings
Suddenly we go from sorting seeds, writing lists and thinking about gardening- to actually getting out there and making a start. It’s a wonderful feeling to be outdoors. I can happily mooch about all day. This week I made a new sweet pea support out of hazel poles.
Usually I use our own hazel material, but I cut them down last year and I’m leaving them to grow taller for a pergola project. There’s always something planned for the future. For this year’s sweet pea frame I visited a local farm fencing suppliers and bought two bundles of rods. These are sold as binders for hedge laying, but make perfect pea and bean poles.
I push the rods into the ground in two rows 60cm apart, with 30cm between each pole. The ground is still very wet and it’s relatively easy to push them in. I tie each pair of rods at a height of 180cm and then weave more hazel and twiggy stems along the top and also at waist height to strengthen the frame.
Here’s my supports from last summer. I love the natural rustic look and sweet peas easily twine around the hazel poles without too much attention and minimal tying in. These supports will last about three years if they are reinforced each year. At the end of their useful life, they’ll be composted. For local supplies try https://coppice-products.co.uk/
Sweet pea seeds are growing well, but there’s still time to start yours now. Planted in early February, they will make good strong plants to flower from July until first frosts. I’m growing a mixture of heritage varieties from Easton Walled Gardens and some new ones from Mr Fothergill’s including Mayflower 400 celebrating 400 years since the Pilgrim Fathers sailed to The New World. There’s nothing like the scent of sweet peas. It’s difficult to buy them from florists, but luckily for us, they are cheap and easy to grow at home.
I’ve written about making a sweet pea support for the weekly Garden News Magazine. There will be photos from my garden in the 11th February edition. I’ve also written about starting my dahlias into growth to take cuttings, and refreshing the compost in my lemon tree pots and starting feeding and watering them. With temperatures being unusually mild for winter, I’m making the best of the sunshine and getting a head start for spring.
What projects have you got planned for 2020. Are you growing anything new, or sticking with old favourites. Get in touch and let me know what’s happening in your garden.
Today I’m celebrating. I’ve spent the first full day in the garden for three years. There was much to do! Brambles and nettles have invaded the boundaries, and I couldn’t get down the side of the poly tunnel. Something needed to be done. And luckily my strength and energy levels have returned and I can be outdoors all day. Something I took for granted until becoming seriously ill in 2016. So happily, it’s not Blue Monday for me- it’s three cheers, and hello garden, here I come!
This area round the back of the potting shed and alongside the poly tunnel looks a mess. It’s out of sight and out of mind- until I need to clean the poly tunnel plastic covering. Then I can’t get access. So I set to and cut back all the nettle stems and blackberries. Some of the trailing stems are 4m long. Vicious, thorny things!
There’s a wheelbarrow under there.
Despite wearing tough clothing the brambles manage to ‘get me.’ But I fight back and win. It takes me a couple of hours, much longer than it used to, but I’ve learned to pace myself and celebrate every small achievement. By chipping away at the task the area is cleared, pots washed and neatly stacked and order restored. It’s such a nice feeling, to take back control.
I make a start on mulching the borders. Some of the boundary borders have become over run with plants such as geranium and euphorbia. Perennials like these can be rather too successful. Before 2016, the whole garden was planted with tender perennials, salvias, penstemons, exotics galore. Mum and I would visit rare plant fairs to seek out small treasures. But these require cosseting. I discovered there’s a good reason they are rare. They need splitting, dividing or they disappear. Cuttings require overwintering in a heated greenhouse. They are gone in a flash without tender loving care. I will replant, but hardier varieties are being selected. Newly acquired tender beauties will remain in plant pots, easily scooped up and swept into the greenhouse at the first sign of frost. I’m not giving up on delicate plants, just readjusting the balance.
A whole border of hellebores had to be dug up last autumn. The plants had become overrun with couch grass and weeds. We moved them to the woodland walk where the grass will die out eventually. And I’m delighted to report that hellebores can be moved and thrive. These are looking fabulous. Every one survived in the well-mulched wonderful leaf-mould soil. So pleased, as these were grown from seedlings given to me by a friend.
Another cause for celebration. My new potatoes for winter have been fabulous. We planted these on 7th August in recycled compost bags. Well watered through late summer, they grew like triffids. As soon as the weather turned cold, the bags were hauled into the greenhouse to be kept frost free. Since Christmas we’ve had a steady supply of tasty potatoes fresh from the greenhouse. There is nothing more cheerful than new potatoes in the depths of winter. I’ll be repeating the procedure again this year, with double the number of bags.
As always, after a hearty gardening session, as a reward, I head out of the top field gate and walk along the ridgeway path. Is there any finer sight than an oak tree set against a bright blue sky. It’s a sight I’ll never tire of.
A quick peek though the gap-in-the hedge. I wasn’t quick enough to take photos of the pheasants in the ditch on the other side. A magnificent thrill to see them skimming low across the field, their feathers rich and glowing in the late afternoon sun.
Hazel catkins, a welcome sign of spring. I cut a few twigs to prop up my amaryllis bulbs in the greenhouse. Flowers and catkins always bring cheer.
It’s a circular walk- along the path, down the lane and back home. This is the hedgerow alongside the lane. My favourite oak, on the ridgeway walk, is almost in the centre of this photo.
I stand and admire this 300 year old oak, one of a row. And I think about the farmer who planted them and didn’t live to see them grow to maturity. It’s such a generous act to plant a tree. It’s not for yourself, but for future generations to come. There are some gaps along the lane where elms have died. Perhaps I’ll ask the farmer if I can plant some replacement oaks. And someone else will stand before them, in time, and marvel at their beauty, like I do.
After a cup of tea, I potter about, collecting up plant labels – there are many- and wind-blown pots. I check the greenhouse, first tapping on the door to warn the wrens. They roost on the slider and if I don’t warn them, there’s a sudden flapping of wings around my head. I don’t mind sharing my greenhouse. It might mean the difference between survival and death, in a cold winter.
Turning for home, I notice the time is 5.05pm. It’s a wonderful sunset. And there’s still enough light to mooch about and easily find my way to the back door. Spring is on the way. And I feel ready for all the gardening challenges to come.
Have you spent any time in the garden today? What’s looking good or coming into flower on your plot. Get in touch and let me know.
I love surprises. This beautiful lilac flower suddenly appeared in amongst my clump of deep blue iris. I’ve grown this plant by the front door for 20 years. The colour has always been rich indigo blue.
It’s a bit of an untidy grower. Long strappy leaves splay everywhere, tripping us up. I’ve threatened to dig it out many times. But then, midwinter, it starts to flower, and what a joy it is. The flowers resemble silk. Surely, too delicate to cope with frost and snow. But no, it shrugs off the cold, providing a steady supply of blooms right through from November to March. Planted in front of a south facing wall, with its roots in rubble, it thrives.
And then something wonderful happens. A sport perhaps, or a seedling. I don’t have the answer. I’m just in amazement at the beauty and wonder of plants.
I hope it’s a stable sport and will repeat flower through the winter. Maybe it’s a completely new variety. We shall have to wait and see.
Here’s some more flower photos from my garden today. We currently have 10C night-time temperatures. Unheard of for January. Consequently, all winter flowering shrubs are having a field day; the whole garden is suffused with a wonderful vanilla scent. It’s totally delicious.
Violets by the front gate. These came from my grandfather, Ted Foulds. They started off from one small pot. Now there are drifts of them under all the deciduous trees and shrubs.
Cyclamen Coum. These are seeding nicely in the woodland in a bed of leafmould.
There’s also various types of viburnum. Deep pink viburnum Dawn being my favourite.
What’s in flower in your garden today? Are you having a mild spell, like we are? Get in touch and let me know.
Winter flowers are more precious to me than summer blooms. In summer there’s an abundance of riches, and sometimes flowers go unnoticed with too much rushing about, keeping on top of the weeding. But in winter there’s time to stop and pause, and jewel-like colours lift the mood. Today I’ve picked my favourite blue Algerian iris. How can anything so delicate survive the cold! It looks like it is made of silk. I have a huge untidy patch of Iris unguicularis right by my front door. All summer we trip over the long strap-like leaves, and constantly threaten to dig it up. But from November to May there’s a daily flush of flowers, arriving in ones and twos. They last for a week, brought indoors. Perfect for a tiny Victorian glass vase. Iris unguicularis likes to be planted at the base of a south-facing wall. Heat and drought seem to suit it well.
My iris naturally flowers in winter, but there are also roses in flower, quite out of season. This is Rosa Phyllis Bide, a wonderful rambler which reliably puts on a show from early summer right through to autumn. I’ve also managed to find some Viburnum Dawn and Lisarose, and a sprig or alstroemeria from the poly tunnel. A cheerful, scented posy for the kitchen table.
After meandering around the plot I head for the garden gate and set off along the ridgeway walk. Fortunately it’s a dry day and the footpath conditions are improving. It’s been the wettest autumn for 50 years and farmers struggled to get in the harvest or sow autumn crops. In the distance there’s field after field of maize still standing. As far as the eye can see, fields stand fallow. There’s no lovely green shoots of winter wheat, barley or oil seed.
There’s only two crab apples left. Mammals and birds have had a feast. There’s been an abundance of fruit and berries this winter. Rosehips dripped like blood from the hedgerow. Huge flocks of fieldfares fly overhead and alight on the hedges to strip them bare. Resident blackbirds try their best to defend their ‘larder,’ but they are defeated by the noisy, marauding visitors. Luckily I’ve a store of cooking apples at home and I’ll throw a few out every day if the weather turns cold. Sometimes this bounty, regularly distributed, is the difference between life and death for birds. I generally rely on planting berried shrubs in the garden to provide natural food. But if it turns really icy, I’ll buy some mealworms, nuts and seeds.
As usual, I look for signs of spring. I know there’s a months of cold weather to come, but it’s heartening to find fat buds on the oak trees, above, and grey catkins on willow. Back home, the winter-flowering honeysuckle is in bloom and the scent wafts around the garden. It’s always a surprise to find such a delicious scent emanating from such insignificant flowers. I’ve wound some stems through a silver birch wreath, along with fluffy wild clematis seed heads. After Christmas I miss the decorations. I keep the festive feeling going, but swap to spring flowers instead. This will look lovely and cheerful over the summerhouse door.
I hope you’ve enjoyed a walk around my garden and along the ridgeway today. What flowers have you seen in bloom already? Get in touch and let me know what’s bringing you joy in your garden over the winter.
Photo: Paperwhite narcissi and pink alstroemeria from my greenhouse today. Gypsophila and honesty seed heads saved from the summer. Eucalyptus foliage and willow heart. Flowers are in a jam jar covered with moss and twine, kokadama-style. Lovely to have home-grown flowers for the New Year.
I love surprises. My grandmother used to say you can never predict what’s going to happen, so don’t worry about tomorrow. Concentrate on today. I’ve pretty much tried to follow her good advice. And just about everything she said has turned out to be true. So, I’ve been writing this blog for three years- not knowing where it would take me. And the biggest surprise is that it’s followed by a growing number of readers. I set out thinking I’d be pleased if just one person read it and was inspired to grow something from seed. Well, I’m amazed and pleased to say the blog was shortlisted this year for the Garden Media Guild Awards. The awards ceremony was quite a glitzy affair at the Savoy in London- not somewhere I ever expected to visit. It was hosted by Nick Bailey, and I sat next to Pippa Greenwood- someone I’ve always admired. Rachel DeThame and Anne Swithinbank were on the next table. Alan Titchmarsh won an award for practical gardener, and Carol Klein was given a lifetime achievement award, presented by Roy Lancaster. Marc Rosenberg won news journalist of the year. Bramblegarden didn’t win the blog category, but just to be a finalist was quite something for me. It took me right out of the potting shed and out of my comfort zone, which is a good thing, now and again, isn’t it.
My second lovely surprise came when the weekly Garden News magazine asked me to write about my garden, and the first of my articles is out this week!
Mum and I have been subscribers for about 20 years. Never in a million years did I think I would be sharing my garden with readers. But that’s what’s happened and they’ve asked me to write and send photos of what I’m growing on a regular basis.
There was a bit of a panic when they asked for photos of the garden. It’s not looking its best in winter, and the rain means I’m very behind with tasks. But I made an immediate decision not to have a frantic tidy up. My garden is what it is. There are too many brambles and stinging nettles, and those will be addressed over the winter. But, apart from that, it will be as it is, a rather messy garden with zones of productivity. I’ve got 10 beds, 1.3m wide by 3m long with little paving slab paths between. This means I never have to stand on the soil. For the past three years the whole garden has been ‘no-dig’ following the principles of Charles Dowding. There’s a 20ft Alton cedar greenhouse I’ve painted black, and alongside, a matching 20ft poly tunnel. The rest of the one acre garden is mostly trees, and low maintenance shade planting. It’s left to the owls, grass snakes and hedgehogs. I’m delighted to share space with them all.
Across the centre of the veg plot there’s a hazel wigwam or A-frame trellis. This has been patched up for the past two years and will be renewed this winter, ready for spring planting.
The hazel frame is perfect for growing sweet peas. The plants just scramble up by themselves. I don’t have much tying in to do. I plant gladioli down the middle of the structure to utilise the space. These grow about 1m tall and usually need staking, but the hazel frame supports them instead.
This is my favourite Wiltshire Ripple variety, which has a fabulous scent.
Here’s how I make my newspaper pots, using a spice jar to form the tube.
I stand the newspaper tubes in terracotta pans. It’s a good task to do when the ground is too wet to work on, which has been the situation here for the past three months.
Albutt Blue. It’s wonderful to be thinking about sweet peas – in the middle of winter.
I wish I could share the scent from all these flowers. Sweet peas are the essence of summer.
What plans have you for growing in 2020? Are you planting old favourites, or trying something new. Get in touch and let me know.
And remember, if you are writing a blog, you never know who might be reading, or what opportunities might come your way. Just enjoy your blogging.
Wishing you all a happy, peaceful and healthy New Year. Happy Gardening!
I’ve escaped from the house for half an hour. There’s two dozen mince pies in a tin. All my cooking is done. Icing sugar is liberally sprinkled all over the kitchen table. But clearing up can wait. I need to get outside into the garden. Surely, no one will miss me for 30 minutes…..
I’ve been saving crab apples for Christmas decorations. There’s Red Sentinel, Jelly King, Transitoria, and the common malus sylvestris which grows wild in hedgerows around here.
I’m trying to use less plastic and wire in the garden. So as an experiment I’m using cocktail sticks to secure my apples. I’m not using floral foam either. Flowers can be tucked into little glass jars and test tubes. Foliage can be woven into willow. It just takes a bit of forward planning. And I’m pleased with the results.
Wild clematis, old man’s beard, highlights the rosy red apples and rosehips. Such a joy to use what’s to hand in the garden. Within a few minutes I’ve gathered everything I need.
I planted dozens of rosa canina when we made a garden here and rosehips are plentiful this year. I never take all of them from one place. Always leave some for the birds. They’ll need them to get through a cold wet winter.
My willow and crab apple wreath cheers up the summerhouse for Christmas. I’ve heaped woollen blankets in there and created a little library of favourite books. A peaceful place to rest and survey the garden birds. We’ve plenty of robins and blackbirds in the garden. They will be looking for nesting sites soon. Behind the summerhouse, the fields lie fallow this year. It’s been too wet to plough and sow any winter crops. Winter barley and wheat would usually be providing bright green shoots by now. It’s sad to see the ground so waterlogged and unproductive. However, birds and mammals are finding ‘leavings’ from the summer crops. Today we saw 300 field fares land in the field. They must be finding left over seeds and grains.
This is the field gate we walk through as we set off across the back fields. There’s a footpath along the hedgerow. Usually, there’s only us rambling along, but at Christmas the lane attracts a great many walkers. I like to decorate all the garden gates with willow and foliage. It only takes a few minutes to twist six willow stems into a heart and wind in some holly and garrya elliptica. Some dried hydrangea Annabelle makes a focal point, and hides the string tying everything together. Three crab apples glow yellow in the afternoon sunshine. It’s a constantly changing arrangement as birds peck at the hydrangea and apples. I don’t mind. It’s wonderful to watch them enjoying the juicy fruit. I can easily add some more. I enjoy the birds as much as the arrangements to be honest.
I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s walk around my garden. Thank you for all your lovely, kind and encouraging comments all year. Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. See you in 2020, when there will be some exciting new developments at bramble garden to show you. Enjoy your gardening as well as your festivities. Now, back to the icing sugar and that messy kitchen table….. there’s trifles still to make. And Christmas puddings to steam.
Something I love to do is pot up a lot of bulbs to make a table display. Bulbs are fantastic value right now. Today I bought two sacks of daffodils reduced from £24 to £3. They were virtually giving them away. I just couldn’t resist. So the morning was spent cramming them into 6″ pots with recycled compost saved from summer. As pots of compost are not very inspiring, I’m sharing a photo of my table display from February this year. Isn’t it cheerful to think we will be looking at all this colour in just a few months.
From left to right, there’s white Carnegie hyacinths, yellow tete a tete daffodils, Blue Jacket hyacinths, white Joan of Arc crocus, and various bright and wonderfully scented primulas and primroses. The perfume carries all around the veg garden. Such a joy after a cold, wet autumn and winter.
Some bulbs just starting to come into flower are Paper White narcissi. I started these off a few months ago in 10″ pots in the cold poly tunnel. There will be a steady stream of highly -scented pure white flowers for the next three months. Fabulous for cut flower displays for the potting shed and house. My favourites.
This week I harvested some of the new potatoes grown in recycled compost bags for Christmas.
There were a few critical comments on social media when I posted this. Some people said it was a waste of time, there wouldn’t be much of a crop, the potatoes just didn’t grow for them. I was quite down-hearted for a while, thinking I might have wasted my money on the seed potatoes. But, this week, I tentatively plunged my hand into the compost bags, and found these beauties. There’s lots more to harvest. The good thing about growing them in bags is you can just take a few at a time. So I’m glad I didn’t listen to negative comments and give up. I’ll certainly grow them again for next Christmas, and I’ll double the number of bags; that new potato taste is absolutely wonderful in the middle of winter. A special treat. Which is what gardening is all about, pushing the boundaries and trying something new. A little bit of success is so encouraging.
Another winter task I love is making plant labels from twigs. I’ve lots of self-sown ash and hazel trees in the garden with nice straight stems. A good way to control them and make something useful from the wood is to cut them into 8″ -10″ lengths and shave off one side for the writing. It’s a lovely soothing job when you’ve spent time battling through crowds for Christmas shopping. Restores balance and good humour!
Following a wander around my garden, there’s always a trip through the top gate and out on to the back fields. These trees are much admired every day of the year. There’s usually a buzzard perched in this first one. It flies along to the next tree, keeping just ahead of me, as I amble along. Quite often there’s a pheasant in the ditch. Meg almost catches the tail feathers as they leave it until the very last moment to fly away. She is being trained to stop and do no harm. But the pheasants don’t know they aren’t in any danger. They make quite a noisy fuss, skimming low over the fields right to the other side and safety.
Along our walk today we visit the sunflower field. Great clouds of small birds rise out of the crop. The sunflowers are like statues- all facing south, their heads frozen in time, but determinedly facing the sun. Backs to the north wind. Like us really. Today, I’m facing south and trying to catch any slight rays of sunshine I can.
I find lambs’ tails. Hazel catkins. That’s sunshine to me. Soon be spring, they seem to be saying.
What signs of spring have you found in your garden today? Have you got snowdrops showing through yet? Here they are poking through the ground, tiny milky white buds like the eye of a needle.
There’s something very appealing about rooting around in ditches, searching for moss covered twigs and pieces of crumbly old bark. I like nothing better than finding bits and pieces that might come in handy for floral arrangements. It brings out the inner ‘Borrower’ in me. I suppose it’s the same as beachcombing for pretty shells and driftwood. Very soothing and satisfying.
It takes me an hour or so to gather enough twigs, moss, ivy and rosehips for today’s projects. The hedges are thick with swags of ivy all adorned with clusters of glossy green berries. These will ripen and turn black in time and provide a feast for the birds. Luckily, there’s enough for everyone to share. I never take too much from any one area.
Wild roses have taken years to climb to the top of the hedges and rosehips form great cascading arches right down to the ground in some places. Meg, my little puppy digs and burrows around in the ditch. She loves this occupation even better than I do, always keen to help, emerging with mouthfuls of sticks and an eager expression. By the end of the morning, my baskets are full, and Meg is happily muddy. We head home, mission accomplished. Setting the finds on the potting shed table, I’ve plenty of red-berried plain green holly, some trailing larch branches festooned with tiny gold fir cones, tendrils of old man’s beard or wild clematis and a pile of wild cherry stems, thick with flower buds already. These stems go into water and straight into the house where the warmth will bring them into flower by Christmas, if I’m lucky. I stand and survey the haul for quite some time. Then I wind willow and silver birch stems into hearts and circles and start to weave in the hedgerow bounty, adding crab apples and dried cow parsley seed heads which remind me of shooting stars. Meg sleeps on my coat in a box under the table, satisfied with her morning’s work. Occasionally, there’s a huge yawn, but mostly deep breathing, like a well fed baby. And in the peace and quiet, I can get on with my tasks.
White alstroemeria and tiny white Stallion chrysanthemum from the poly tunnel pots, adding colour to the hedgerow greens. White gypsophila, dried from the summer.
Hedgerow finds with dried hydrangea flowers and pine.
Teasels and Garryia elliptica on the field gates.
Hydrangea Annabelle with a clematis Montana and willow circle.
Hydrangea and old man’s beard clematis catching the sunlight.
A simple willow heart and ivy.
Christmas hellebore. One of the Gold Collection varieties. A welcome addition to seasonal arrangements. Slit the stem lengthways for 4″ and stand in water right up to the flower head, before using in arrangements.
Summerhouse posy. Holly, lavender and fir.
Rosy hydrangea flowers, wild clematis and pine.
Willow, dogwoods, skimmia and conifer stems.
Potting shed window. Rosehips, crab apples and cow parsley seeds.
Can there be anything more cheerful in winter. Hyacinths, planted in October and grown in the dark, now brought out into the light. Roots climbing out of the pots. Emerald green flower spikes. The promise of flowers- and scent- at a time when we need promise. I potter about all day in the sunshine, planting bulbs, poking about in plant pots, looking for life. I find snowdrops. The tiny white flowers, tight closed. But soon they will be lighting up the garden.
In the greenhouse, the miniature iris bulbs are through. I’m growing Iris reticulata Harmony, a lovely deep inky blue; Katherine Hodgkin, pale blue, and a new variety, Katherine’s Gold, a sport which is a pretty pale yellow form.
These pots will be placed on garden tables in spring, but for now, they’ll stay protected in the greenhouse. Mice are very partial to bulbs.
All jobs completed- pots tidied for recycling, and a few leaves raked into piles to be turned into leafmould- I set off for my daily walk out though the top gate and along the hedgerow path.
Oak trees and hedgerows are almost bare now. A chance to enjoy the beautiful intricate structure of branches. Hidden views are revealed, and if we are lucky, we see a barn owl, hunting in the late afternoon as food becomes scarce.
Just a few crab apples remain on trees. Blackbirds and mice have had a feast this year. It’s been a record harvest.
I find a patch of oak leaves turning a glorious gold. But why haven’t the winter gales blown the leaves across the field, like the rest of them.
Looking closely, I find leaf galls on the undersides of the leaves. They are types of Oak Spangle galls. I wonder if they can somehow manipulate the chemical composition of the leaf to delay senescence. I have seen tiny insects, mine caterpillars, do this in my beech leaves. There are so many mysteries, so much more to learn. Who knows if this will be useful to humans in some way in the future.
On my beech tree leaves, a tiny green oasis remains. Evidence of tunnelling by the moth larvae of Stigmella tityrella. Have you ever noticed these on your trees before?
I find a hazel leaf cozily wrapped around a twig. I gently peep inside. Who could resist? A tiny cluster of ladybirds are snuggled at the base. I carefully fold the leaf back and hope they stay safe and sound until spring.
Turning back, the sun is starting to set. I can see our trees in the distance. A blackbird sings in the hedge. It sounds so loud on a still afternoon when there’s no one else around to hear it. Just me. It will be dark soon, so I hurry across the fields. Suddenly it feels cold. How quickly a sunny day can turn to dusk. Luckily I know the path well and could find the way with my eyes closed. Which is just as well, as it’s pitch black by the time I reach home.
Thank you for reading. Please feel free to share my blog and help me spread the word. Are you managing to get any gardening done at the moment. Get in touch and let me know.
Today’s flowers feature my father-on-law’s hardy yellow chrysanthemums. We don’t know the proper name for them, but in our family they are known as ‘Aunty Dorris.’ My father-in-law had been growing them since Aunty Dorris gave him a cutting in the 1950s. He grew them for his wife Joan, who particularly loved the sunny yellow flowers. Now the cuttings have been passed to me, and I’m keeping up the tradition of growing flowers for Joan.
The flowers have a gorgeous lime green centre which sets off the bright yellow petals. They last at least three weeks in a vase, with water refreshed every day.
Variegated ivy with golden flower heads provide foliage for my chrysanthemum posy.
Oak and beech leaves gathered from the garden add some lovely warm burnished tones.
Autumn trees across the horseshoe pond are reflected in the potting shed windows.
There are rows of beech trees all around the garden, remnants of an old hedgerow. Trees stand bare all winter, but juvenile foliage at the base provides copper-coloured leaves through until next May.
Chrysanthemums are often winter hardy, but the flowers are spoiled by rain, so I grow them in many 12″ pots. They stand outdoors on the paving all summer, and are brought in to an unheated poly tunnel around first week of November. After very mild temperatures, we had one night of -2C so I covered the flowers to protect them from the sudden chill. They were uncovered the next day, and night time temperatures have been 8 to 11C since then. The pots will supply a steady flow of flowers until the new year. Plenty for Christmas. And plenty for Joan, who is now living in a care home with Keith. I’m glad to be keeping up our family tradition. I often think of Aunty Dorris and wonder if she realised her cutting would lead to so much joy shared down through the years.
Here’s a photo of Joan on her wedding day, standing on the steps of Cosby Methodist Chapel. Joan did the flowers for the chapel for 65 years and Keith played the organ for weddings and chapel services. This photo, in a home-made metal frame, is a little battered as Keith carried it all around Korea for his army national service.
Thank you for reading. Please share this blog on any social media platform, share with your friends and neighbours and help me spread the word. Hopefully I’ll inspire someone to grow flowers, fruit and vegetables. It’s really simple, if you have a few pointers and little hints and tips along the way. Enjoy your garden.
On Sunday, we had a question on protecting hostas from slugs – on the BBC radio gardening programme I sit in on.
My panel team mate Nick Turrell and I talked about using Strulch Mulch – a mineralised straw mulch that’s got a scratchy surface that slugs don’t like.
We also mentioned a garlic wash spray we have both tried and tested. We found it works a treat. It deters slugs, but does not poison them. This means the slugs are left available as food for birds and mammals such as hedgehogs. You’ll need to repeat the treatment regularly, especially after rain. I put my mixture in a 3l Hozelock sprayer and leave it in the potting shed ready to treat them. I’ve found it also deters aphids and is good for spraying roses.
The recipe comes from Sienna Hosta, a multi- gold medal winning nursery specialising in hostas. They do not use any other chemical treatments.
Here is a snapshot of their website showing their recipe for the garlic spray.
We also mentioned our appeal for hedgehog food from Leicestershire Wildlife Hospital. They have 260 hedgehogs in their care and are taking in around 10 a day. Hedgehogs are either ill, underweight or injured having been washed out of their nests in the floods. Hedgehogs eat meaty dog food, the solid loaf -type, and not containing gravy, jelly, or made with fish. They also desperately need puppy milk for the babies, and heat pads and incubators. They have an amazon wish list and an appeal fund.
Today’s photos have a golden theme running through them. For a few short weeks, everything glows. It’s a last gift from the garden before we descend into cold dark days. And it’s a very welcome gift. Even the flowers are golden. The last dahlias make a cheerful posy for the garden table. Tubers of favourite David Howard dahlia are tucked up under a foot of dry leaves now. Here I’ve found some blue borage and a few nasturtiums to go with the solo dahlia bloom. I feast my eyes on the sight. It will be another 9 months before I see dahlia flowers again.
Luckily, in the poly tunnel, my ‘Aunty Dorris’ chrysanthemums are coming into flower. My father in law has been growing these since the 1950s after receiving cuttings from his aunt. Sadly he’s had to leave his garden, and the precious plants have come my way. I’m determined to keep them going, in memory of Aunty Dorris and as a tribute to their shared love of gardening. There will be a steady flow of flowers to the care home where my relatives now live, right up until Christmas time.
White Swan chrysanthemums are also flowering. I grow them in 12″ pots in an open-ended poly tunnel. They don’t mind the cold, but the rain spoils their flowers. There’s often enough for Christmas table decorations.
Stepping out of the poly tunnel door, this is the scene. A bank of wild cherry trees make a golden veil. Next spring there will be snowy white cherry blossom, followed by luscious red fruit. There’s always something to look forward to. Nothing stays the same. I remind myself this, when there’s bare stems and cold dark days ahead. Winter is not my favourite time of the year, but I store up memories of the past, and at the same time, look to the future. My garden provides a kind of winter armoury.
Alongside the greenhouse, there’s a group of hazel trees. We harvest a few cob nuts each year, but squirrels take most of them. It’s cheerful to see catkins – or lambs tails- forming already.
Through the hazel and maple trees, you can just spy the summerhouse. Fallen leaves make a golden footpath leading the way.
Tall golden beech trees make a backbone for the summerhouse. It will be six months before we see lime green shoots and new leaves again.
Surrounding trees and the back fields are reflected in the summerhouse windows. Sunset is a favourite time to sit here and ponder on the growing year coming to a close. And also think about all the flowers, fruit and veg I’ll be growing next year.
What plans have you for your garden next spring? Are you enjoying the autumn colours just now, as we are here in the Midlands? Get in touch and let me know how things are going in your garden right now.
While you are looking at these photos there’s some music to go with them. Here’s the link to Yellow (Coldplay) sung by Jodie Whittaker for Children in Need. It’s very appropriate for my post this week. At 1.35.09 on the timeline. Or number 12 on the playlist.
It’s a cold, misty start to today’s walk around my garden and back fields. Peering through the gap in the hedge, the old oak tree looks golden. We see a fox crossing the field, so brazen in the morning light. Fox and field blend into one. All autumnal tones merge today. The fox heads for the ditch, sending a pheasant flying into the next field. In the hedge where I’m standing, blackbirds and robin start up their alarm call. I think it must be the fox causing the upset. But then a buzzard glides low overhead- silent at first, then making a plaintive mewing cry. I shiver. Magnificent. Deadly. Owning the sky.
We walk along the ridgeway path. It’s been a slow start to autumn here. Field maples usually yellow-up by mid to end of October. Suddenly today, as temperatures dip below zero, the hedgerow takes on a golden hue. It reminds me of a patchwork quilt. ‘Squares’ of black dogwood stitched together with patches of golden maple. Such a pretty view. I gaze at it, and hold it in my memory. A few autumn gales and the magic will be gone. A whole year before we see such sights again.
Blackberries. The bane of my life this year. They have taken over my garden and this winter there will be serious chopping back. Meanwhile, leaves glow a glorious red. Quite pretty, if they were not so determined to take over the world.
It’s been wet here. So far this month there’s been 42mm of rain. In October we had 146mm, and in September, 118mm. The ground is waterlogged, ditches overflowing. We follow a path where horses have trod. The ground is so soft there’s deep hoof prints, full of water. It’s calming following footprints, the sky reflected in the little pools of water.
A dip in the hedge reveals our trees on the left. I can hardly believe we planted them, all those years ago, when I was in my 20s. They’ve been a source of joy ever since. On the right in the distance stands Polly’s Wood. I have a dream to join the two woods together- a corridor for wildlife. One day, perhaps. We shall see. Dreams do sometimes come true.
Back through the garden gate, on our boundary, there’s a green corridor running down past the pond to the summerhouse beyond. Autumn and spring are my favourite times for this part of the garden. In spring, the lime green new shoots are bright and cheerful. At this time of the year, field maples and cherry trees create a golden tunnel.
If you look carefully, you can just see our 1930s summerhouse, hidden amongst the trees.
Thank you for all your kind words last week, following our cousin’s funeral. It’s seems I am not alone in turning to nature as a balm when there are sorrows. Perhaps we all find solace and hope in nature all around us. And gardening is something we all turn to in moments of need. This week after walking for miles, and gardening all hours, I feel restored and ready to face whatever life brings. No doubt there will be many more ups and downs to deal with. Nothing stands still in life, or in gardening, for that matter. Does it.
The horseshoe pond can viewed from the potting shed windows. There’s a gently-sloping boulder beach to stand on, and this gives easy access for hedgehogs, frogs, newts and grass snakes. It’s very calming to stand and watch the ripples from raindrops. Today the pond is a cauldron of frogs, mating and producing frog spawn.
Bramble Garden 