Foxy

I spent a couple of hours last week tidying up the front of the house, which hadn't been touched since we arrived.  It's a funny, triangular-shaped bed, enclosed with very new, very orange brick.  I had a Cytisus battandieri going begging (the result of a catastrophic accident when ordering my plants...I just clicked 'add to cart' and it arrived - beyond my control I'm afraid).  Anyhow, I had no space for it in the garden, so I bunged it in here, along with the existing lavatera and some french lavender.  Amazingly, they all have the same silvery-blue-green slightly hairy silky thing going on...reminding me rather of my babety's earlobes.  The Cytisus is particularly beautiful:

...and it goes rather well with it's orangey brick-work wall.

So I spent some time and a fair amount of energy making it all nice, and then this morning I woke up and found that a hideous fox had left his hideous revolting calling card a-top one of my lavender hummoks.  I'm not going to show you a picture of it - it's too disgusting.  I tweeted my disgust and received various bits of advice from all the lovely people there.  Jo Thompson, garden designer, said I should get a patterdale terrier (I'd love that, but Mr Pug might not), Ursula Cholmeley of the beautiful Easton Walled Gardens said I should inject the fox with hot lead (hmmm...lack of wherewithall) but Lucy Inglis, author of the brilliant blog on Georgian London said I should put (and I quote) 'something of yours, unwashed, tied to a stick in the middle of [the bed]'

I'm not a proud woman....and I'm desperate too...hence this:

The neighbours can't see it unless they actually look over the wall into the flowerbed...if they do, then they're being nosy (a bit like me) and if they're nosy, then they'll be delighted to see something so weird (as I would be) - so I figure it's okay for a day or two.  Fantastic Mr Fox is a clever wily thing, and I hope he'll remember not to come on over to my place long after the pants are gone.

The story so far....

A quick round-up of progress (because I so easily forget) At the end of February we had this:

Then after lots of digging with the help of my friend James at Indigo Gardens, my dad and The Hunk, this:

And The Hunk made me some raised beds, and then I went shopping, hence this:

And then we had a short interlude for Easter, and the Babety's first flip-flops:

And the garden got planted, and it looked like this:

And it got sunny, and we had our first picnic:

And then I tackled the Apple Garden, and i did more planting and watering:

And the babety got cuter, and I did a lot of weeding:

And also a lot of planting and sowing and mowing:

And now this is where we are now, on May Day:

It's not sumptuous and floriferous and wafting yet, but I know that when it is sumptuous and floriferous and wafting, there'll probably be something else I wish it was.

But....bees are visiting and birds are singing, and little green shoots are peeping up, and tiny fruits are swelling and it's a new garden, from scratch and it's mine and I am stupidly, utterly and completely besotted with it...I must have been a VERY nice person in another life to deserve such richness in this one.

In my garden this week:

A few goings-on.....There's no text here (but nobody ever reads the words anyway do they?)...just click on the first picture and keep clicking on the arrows....enjoy x

Nosy Corner: Projects begun...and not quite completed

I always love seeing things like this, because I AM this person -

...someone who starts something and then looses her oomph...  My life used to be littered with the remnants of Grand-Plans-Begun-But-Not-Finished.  Then someone very clever and wise told me that it's not the finishing that counts, it's the having fun doing it, and gradually, one by one, things got completed without my noticing.

Sweet Lilacs

I've been totally inspired by all the lilacs bursting open this week -

...like so many silky pompoms opening up to scent my never-ending 'pram outings'...

My own recently planted lilac (Syringa 'Lochinch') is putting on growth and budding beautifully but there isn't anything to pick yet,

...so yesterday I swiped these from my mum's garden:

A syrup, I think, for drinks, or jelly...

...or both (I'm experimenting for a recipe to go in my next book).  There are lots of recipes for lilac 'jelly' on the w.w.w. (i.e. the same sort of stuff you might make with redcurrants and put with lamb) - but I'm thinking of sort of jelly you might have at a children's party ...mixed, perhaps with some champagne??? - all will be revealed.

Lilac Syrup

To a simple sugar syrup (one cup of sugar, dissolved in one cup of water over a moderate heat), I added this:

washed, of course, and with all traces of green removed...along with a few blueberries to make sure it'd be pinkish...

I simmered the whole thing gently for about a quarter of an hour:

...and then I strained off the detritus to reveal this:

Not really lilac colour but still beautiful, and delicious - sweet, floral, but most importantly, lilac scented.  The Hunk and more importantly I (chief cocktail-concocter) shall have cocktails tonight - recipe suggestions please....Kir 'Loyal' perhaps?

Look what I found!

I've been wanting to do a post on found objects since I got here, but today was the day it felt right to do so, because today (oh joy of joys!) I found this:

Who did you belong to, un-loved thing....I found you while I was digging  a BIG hole...did someone put you there?....on PURPOSE?

When we first arrived, the only thing in the garden was this - perfect toy for the baby (and Hunk).

But then I began digging and started un-earthing hundreds of these:

Apparently this house used to be a perfume factory (according to one neighbour) - and this is the result.  They're pretty, and scrub up pretty well too (although I can't get the soil out from inside them...needs some special implement I haven't quite thought of yet).

But today's find is my favourite - It's going on my shelf of found objects...here it is again:

Pug and poshness

If in doubt, use a picture of the pug

Sorry, no photos of where I went today, but I'm telling you, the Queen's garden at Buckingham Palace is one vast sward on top of which (if one is lucky enough) one might be given tea and cake, along with rather a lot of plane trees and a huge amount of roses and rhodedendrons.  I don't know quite what I was expecting when I arrived there this morning, but I had hoped (being a rather nosy person...and see Nosy Corner for proof) for a glimpse of something private, or personal - something like a treehouse, or the remnants of a picnic, or a corgi poo perhaps.  But no, nothing like that.  It was beautifully maintained, with care and love, and you could tell this because every inch of it was immaculate, and it was full of things that didn't quite fit, but that were obviously presents from people and had to be included (eg all the rhodedendrons, for which ericaceous soil had been studiously added in bulk)...I was kind of moved by this - the thought of being the master of so much but at the mercy of having to accommodate and diplomatically display every last foreign dignitary's passing gift...Well of  course it doesn't hit you between the eyes and bowl you over...it's not the product of one person's passion, but a fabulous collage of heritage (the plethora of trees planted by members of the royal family) and obligation (an entire bed of yellow roses given by someone or other in honour of one's golden wedding).

But there were deeply charming patches - the island in the middle of the lake - allowed to grow wild and home to many many nesting birds, the areas of un-mown meadow (cow-parsley, bluebells and-we were told- orchids) and yes, the achingly, painstakingly perfect mixed borders (which we couldn't get anywhere near because it would have meant stepping on that grass) but which at this time of the year, seem innocent and naked - a multitude of delphiniums, dwarfed by their stakes, peonies reaching up, huge clumps of lily of the valley, and oddities I had not seen before, like Syringa pinnatifolia, (a lilac I had never seen before) that has flowers like an osmanthus but with beautiful delicate leaves...an absolute must-have that will join my lust list.  I was struck by the never-ending drone of traffic and I'm not surprised that this garden isn't the private haven I had imagined it would be...it's in the middle of a massive round-about, complete with hectic fumes....I think I too would rather spend my outdoor time somewhere a little quieter (like MY garden!)

The very best bit of the whole morning though, was our guide, who was not a gardener, but someone who worked in the Queen's Gallery, and who explained explicitly that the tour would be more 'historical than horticultural'...as he was 'no gardener'...however, he had been taken round the garden, along with the other guides, by the head gardener in preparation for these new-fangled garden tours, and had, he admitted, been quite enthused by the whole experience.  He had obviously planned the tour meticulously, taking what he had learned and deciding where to stop and what to talk about.  Most of these stops were devoted to admiring the plane trees that were a very important part of the garden, but he had memorised and boned up on other things too, and was about to wax lyrical in front of a witch-hazel when he turned round and realised the flowers were all gone.  Slightly downcast, and with a sweet smile, he owned 'Shucks, you learn all about something so you can talk about it and then THIS happens!'...Utter heaven...I want to take him home with me.

It's been a busy weekend, but at LAST I managed to plant my fig tree, which had been languishing in a corner for too long...yes yes yes I planted it IN a pot IN the ground....AND I bought a lawnmower and finally mowed the lawn (I do find that everything is SO much more fun when you have shiny new tools to play with.  The lawn was mown in my nightie because it was the hottest of hot days and I got enthused early in the morning (don't know what my neighbours thought of that, but still).  I was supposed to sow masses of hardy annuals this weekend but the baby got sick, so that's now become next week's project....I've still got masses more weeding to do, and a huge amount of planting in the apple garden.  Tomorrow tomorrow, tomorrow.

Basil smugness

The Hunk decided we had to christen his new barbecue tonight.  Please note that I had no part in the barbecue buying bonanza...it just arrived at the door one day, in a huge hulking box, to add to the plethora of hulking boxes (still un-packed) we already have in our sitting room.  Furious, I called him to squalk something about our daughter's inheritance à la Theo Paphitis on Dragon's Den but privately I was thrilled, because I love, adore and salivate over barbecue'd food, and because I loathe and detest smelly, smokey kitchens and spitting fat.

I happened to have italian sausages in the fridge...(a good thing, no matter how you look at it) and I actively encouraged him, saying that we could barbecue, as long as we had champagne to barbecue TO (so to speak).  He came home from work empty handed, saying he had to go off and get 'gas'...bastard...I thought barbecu-ing was done with coal and so-forth...this is cheating.  Anyway, I waited and waited (and ate chocolate egg left over from Easter and a primula salad that I had made for the shoot I did today for Virgin Gardener book Two)...and finally he returned with an (ugly) gas canister and champagne (phew).

BUT, during the long wait for my chef to return with his barbecue paraphernalia, I had time (snore) to think of something to make our supper more rounded and less saussagey.  The only veg I had in the fridge was tomatoes (yum), to which I added some of my HOME GROWN BASIL....yes folks, YAY, my seed-raised, home-grown basil has been a success and is now ready for picking....so it is with UTTER, despicable smugness, that I offer this tomato and basil picture:

Nosy corner: Bergenias on a busy road

I've been thinking about bergenias (above) a lot lately because certain people have been debating them on twitter (Helen Johnstone and Anne Wareham in particular).  They've never been a must-have plant for me, but then today I was walking home from the tube with the pram (not something I attempt every day, a trip on the underground with a pram) - and I saw this lovely front garden, which makes, well, AMPLE use of bergenias (there's loads of them just by the front door too) and is really rather gorgeous I think.  I love the generosity of the leaves - it creates a feeling of largesse in this small space...particularly with all the itty bitty stuff behind.  The fact that this house is on a really busy road hasn't stopped the owner lavishing love on this plot; there's a huge variety of different plants here, and this person obviously loves their garden, and for that reason alone, I love it too.  Here are a couple more photos:

The prettiest bit of my patch...

I write after two solid days of preparing my soil...

For What?...(i hear you cry)

Well:  here's the thing - I've kind of haemorrhaged money on this garden already and whilst I shall probably haemorrhage a bit more, I'm feeling a bit pinched right now. ...To WHICH, I'm about to do a mass sowing of hardy annuals - the cheap way to be spectacular without breaking the bank.

If you're a virgin, then by annuals I mean stuff like nigella, poppies, marigolds, dill, larkspur...that sort of thing (haven't totally decided yet).

I'm in love with hardy annuals...they were my first plant love before I discovered perennials.  Annuals grow, set seed and die, all within one year...flash-in-the-pan you might say...rather like a very handsome, charming man who loves you and then leaves you.  Perennials are the equivilent of someone who properly loves you and stays with you year in, year out, forever...much better...much, much much better..of course.

I've been growing this sort of stuff from seed for a while now, but never, ever on this scale.  Small-scale annual sowing gives one the peculiar advantage of being able to BUY the proverbial 'fine tilthe' rather than having to CREATE it...easy peasy pudding and pie....

...but that was then - this is now, and I have to get on with it.  The weed seeds are appearing, and that's a good sign - it means that the conditions are perfect, and the time has come to sow some seeds.  (You can also sit on the earth with your pants down, and declare it 'pleasant' but noticing the emergence of weed seeds is less potentially problematic).

In order to sow my James Bond/Jason Bourne plants I need the above-mentioned fine tilthe.  This means that I've got to clear my beds of any stones bigger than, say, an almond, and of any weeds emerging or otherwise.  This is where I could have saved myself a lot of work if I had only done it properly when I first started blah blah blah YAWN...nobody does that do they? - We all get excited about planting and skip stone-chucking episode so we can get the plants in and sit back to admire our hard work.

Today and yesterday I removed weeds and stones like a person who simply exists to remove weeds and stones.  I decided not to look beyond the patch I was working on, so as not to be discouraged by the amount I had to do...and in two days (and with the help, it must be said, of a wonderful childminder), I have finished the lawn beds.

Now I have four buckets full of stones and rather a lot of weeds for the compost - most of it's grass from left-over bits of turf when I was cutting the beds.

I have an aching back and a very sore bottom and legs because nasty stinging ants kept biting me as I laboured.  Also my nails are hideous and I have that thing of soil having EMBEDDED itself in my skin...no amount of scrubbing will get it out - I shall have to wait until new cells grow.

I still have the bee border to do but having accomplished the lawn beds, this doesn't worry me in the least because I am quite frankly a superwoman.

...but nothing I do will ever come close to the prettiest part of my garden right now (see top of page)...Forgetmenots with brambles and something else unidentified...gentle, gorgeous, unassuming loveliness that's perfect because it's supposed to be there...and all without a scrap of back-breaking work from me....makes me smile.

The Apple Garden

My Apple Garden (or as I like to call it, my 'APPLEYDAPPLEY garden') has had  a bit of a bad deal so far.  I've only just begun to tackle this part of my space - it's the bit closest to the house and I call it the Apple Garden simply and only because it has two apple trees in it.

I'm a very naughty girl...a naughty and ungrateful one.  This bit of my garden is a good size; in fact, it's the exact same size as my neighbour Deborah's garden, and rather larger than that of my Dove-owning neighbours on the other side....but I've left it till last, concentrating all my efforts on the big space down at the bottom; I should call it the Cinderella garden really.

There were existing flower beds here, with a mixture of foxgloves, bindweed and more foxgloves, punctuated by the odd (dead) hydrangea and a couple of standard roses which someone had clearly tried to plant at some point.  After watching the digitalis and the bindweed come to life and threaten to take over I took drastic action and dug the whole lot up at the beginning of this week with the help of a couple of fantastic men (sorry for not doing it myself this time dear reader, but I have quite simply run out of PUFF).  It was a mammoth job (bindweed is a b***ch to remove) and it's not over yet because the stuff will keep appearing, and I have to stay on top of it.  Here are the before and after photos:

....phew!

All that's left is a couple of blue-bells and some sweet-cicely (which has fabulous sweetening properties...more on that another time).

The roses are gone, except for the climbing one which was practically strangling one of the apple trees when we arrived, so I got the Hunk to cut it down to about a foot above the ground (you can see the stump sticking out of the ground on the right) -   Sure enough, it's sprouting again, ready to climb once more.

Now for the fun part - the planting.  A heady combination of having hundreds of pots of plants and practically no money means that I'm filling this area with all my balcony and back-yard spoils.  I put all the pots out and watered them ready for planting, and there were still vast gaps.  I needed ground-cover, and fast so I went to the garden centre and bought  a few pots of pulmonaria (the blue one), another daphne (far, far too expensive) and a couple of choisya.  By virtue of the fact that most of my plants from my old place were white (yawn), most of the apple borders will be green and white, with a smattering of blue...all frightfully tasteful.

I started planting yesterday, but got waylaid by all sorts of things (well, babies need feeding and watering, and playing with etc, and then there's the fact that they get up rather annoyingly early, which means I can't even get up at 5am for a couple of hours in the garden...But you know...the up-side is you get inspired...and you do more than you would if they weren't around....honestly.  We also spent the whole of today with cousins in the glorious sunshine - twelve little ones squealing under the sprinkler reminds me what a garden is really all about, and that I should never forget that I'm creating a space for running around in and having fun.

So I think I'll finish the Apple beds tomorrow, when I've decided where to put the water slide that has suddenly become compulsary.

Mr Pug and cobaea

I've been asked for a puggy picture...so here you go.  Yesterday was so warm and delicious that I put my little baby cup and saucer vines (Cobaea scandens) out for the first time.  They were doing some 'hardening off' but Mr Pug was simply sunbathing....as he gets older, his teeth and tongue start sticking out a bit...I guess that'll happen to us all at some point.

Nosy corner - basket cases

An early morning walk yesterday..and three hanging baskets.

Look familiar? - I've had quite a few that looked like this over the years.

The thing about hanging baskets, and the reason they so often end up like these ones, is that they're really hard to water.  Even if you water them every other day say (and that's pushing it for busy people), you still have to take them down off their hook and put the whole thing in some sort of container and leave it there, full of water, so that the compost can soak it up and become fully moist.  Watering a hanging basket when it's still on its hook, especially when the compost is dry, is pretty much a waste of time, because it all just pours out of the bottom.

There is an answer:....WATER RETAINING GEL OR GRANULES.

If you put a handful of this stuff in when you're planting up, you'll have a much easier time of it in the long run.  The water retaining granules capture the water and swell up, releasing it slowly as the compost gets dry....much better.

"When in doubt, plant a geranium" (Margery Fish)

I am in doubt...lots of it - I want a lovely blooming garden by June and I don't want to toil too much to get it.  I've planted up all my shrubs and stuff and if I were a patient soul, I would just sit back now, hoe in hand to nuke the odd weed, and wait for everything to fill out and cover the bare soil....but typically, I want this to happen in a trice.  The answer is a hardy geranium or fifty.

I love, adore and revere hardy geraniums, particularly when they're planted by the boat-load (or 'en masse' as the gardening world likes to describe it).  I ordered as many as I could afford from this place a couple of weeks ago, (brilliantly knowledgeable they were too, and very helpful in choosing the varieties) and they arrived looking deliciously gorgeous but painfully small.

There are three varieties:

'Dragon Heart' for the Bee border (deep pink with a black centre)

'Orion' for the lawn borders (blue as blue is blue)

'Buxton's variety' for the Apple borders (paler, softer blue and used to an altogether shadier time)

I planted them today - each one tucked in nicely and watered with love, and I'm hoping these will wash my garden with colour, and that this will last well into autumn....let's wait and see if anything comes of my geranium dreams...

Summer Flavour...in spring.

Today is the day I launch my blog.  I've properly got butterflies...please be nice.

We had an utterly delectable day yesterday here in London - the kind of day that makes you want to take a fair amount of clothes off and feel fresh air on your skin.  The garden is slowly but surely taking shape.  I started off in the middle of February, with a larger-than-average space, pretty much all of it lawn.

After many days of ruminating and cogitating and many more days of digging and weeding it looked like this:

...and then after many more days of planting and planting and more planting it finally looked like the beginnings of a garden:

This garden is about creating a space for my family - a space to play and eat and sit and love.

This blog will chart the development of the garden right from the beginning (complete with all my mistakes...I LOVE mistakes).

All this will go into my second book, which will show you how to create a garden from scratch, and have it up and blooming come summertime, without haemorrhaging money or having a hideous time with builders.

I'd love and adore it if you'd come with me, and leave your comments and criticisms.

Elsewhere I'll be showing you fun, easy, chic stuff to do with plants even if you don't have a garden (this is my first one, and my pot-gardening habit isn't going anywhere) - I'm still a windowsill girl at heart.

So yesterday I had the sunshine on my skin, and  the urge, suddenly and without warning, to eat slices of beef tomato with basil en masse (so to speak)...If you've read my book, you'll know that I've had a nightmare with growing basil from seed, so I tend to get a basil plant from the supermarket and divide it into little bits...this way it lasts much longer than it normally would, and you can start munching in a few days rather than a few weeks.  I did this yesterday, using the remnants from my division to feed my desire for summer flavours and planting up the rest into three little pots.  I must say though, that I have managed to germinate some basil just before I moved, (fluke of flukes).  This makes my heart sing and I want to run out into the street and hug total strangers...It was easy peasy to do and I'm going sow some more tomorrow to make sure it wasn't a complete fluke...

Ladies in waiting....

It's April...and that means Epimedium.  Little bobbing butterflies above heart-shaped leaves...what's not to adore?  It's hear-stoppingly gorgeous and deserves to be in a delicious bed under the dappled shade of an apple tree.  Sadly, it's not there yet and has joined the ever-increasing ranks of my 'Ladies in waiting'.  The culprit is, of course, bindweed.  Here it is:

If things work out like they are in my head, then I will have tackled this by the middle of next week and then I'll be able to plant all my ladies in waiting.  Apart from the epimediums, there are these lovelies:

...and so much more...waiting waiting (I feel like I'm in a Chekov play) - which brings me to the vast CRIME I discovered that I had committed today.  I found several raspberry canes that i had ordered back in FEBRUARY, utterly forgotten about and still wrapped tightly in plastic.  They had fallen victim to 'the move'.  The poor things had tried to put on some growth, which was flaccid and completely anaemic.  I almost threw them out, but there was a half hour of daylight left, The Hunk was babysitting and I dug a quick trench, added a bit of manure and planted them anyway (without even soaking the dry roots).  Honestly, I don't hold out much hope for the poor little blighters in terms of fruit....but I'm sure they'll survive okay, and perhaps next year I'll have raspberries.

This was one of those days when the garden seemed to change dramatically as a result of my efforts; mostly due, I think, to the addition of lots of vertical elements which give the impression, not only of growth, but of seclusion.  I've put hazel tripods in the lawn borders, and peasticks in my skinny trenches, creating an instant 'hedge' through which I shall grow sweetpeas or runner beans...who knows:

A Picnic...at last

My crambe cordifolia arrived yesterday, along with a fig tree and various other lovelies.  No time as yet to plant any of them - the pots are standing on my still-too-bare flowerbeds waiting for my attention.  Yesterday and today has been all about hoeing the borders- (I say 'all about' as if it took me hours, but actually it was a matter of a few minutes)- and sorting out which plants are going in the apple garden (that bit closest to the house that has two apple trees in it).  I have it in my head that I'll tackle these early next week (yeah yeah) but it's always good to set wild intentions I find.  These beds are choc full of digitalis and bindweed, along with three roses that have seen better days.  I have pots and pots of viola odorata, epimidiums, ferns and other lovelies all ready to be set free in here...fingers crossed I get my act together.

On an altogether more important note, we had our first ever PICNIC today.  The Hunk made sandwiches with a set-fire-to-your-nose amount of mustard, and Mr Pug ate bits of bread and cheese out of babety's fat hands (they have a symbiotic relationship - he helped incubate her by lying on top of me for nine months; she knows this and duly rewards him with extra food).  Glorious day...over all too soon.

So much else to say - cherry blossom out and proud, pear about to burst forth...oh, and I planted a row of shallots (can't remember when) and they're UP.

OMG WOW!

YAY! -my new potatoes have come up!!!

New potatoes are ridiculously easy to grow so I don't know why I'm so surprised...but actually I'm always a-gog when something I plant actually emerges from the earth.  This is deeply thrilling....  I'm going to wait now, until the stems reach about 15cm high, then cover the whole lot up again with some more compost.  I planted these in a pot on Friday 19th March, so that's just over two weeks.  I still have lots more chitting that I'm going to put in the ground when I stop being lazy.

On the subject of potatoes - I've been falling so in love with the chitting shoots on my egg-boxed lovelies.  They look like scruptious tiny hairy pineapples:

Nosy corner: Other people's gardens

Somewhere in west london

Somewhere else in west london

An Easter Table

Here we are already at Easter weekend and I haven't even unpacked most of my belongings.  Everything is everywhere (and shall probably remain so for the forseeable future). But I have unpacked some stuff, including my array of containers and vases.

The Hunk and I suddenly felt lonely and orphan-like when we realised we hadn't planned anything for Easter. A mad rush of telephoning later, we managed to round up some similarly orphaned friends for lunch, and had spring chicken and chocolate eggs at the ready. For the table, I plonked these exquisite fritillaria in a faux-mossy container, covered the gaps with sphagnum and that was that. Everyone adored this chequered beauty, which was all the more delectable for its being up-close and personal (something you rarely get when they're in the ground...unless you're the sort to get down on your hands and knees).

So, for an easy, Easter lunch table, you need:

1 pot Fritillaria meleagris - in bud or flower..it matters not.

A suitable container, that will fit the plastic pot

Sphagnum moss

Method:

Put the plant inside the container and cover the gaps with the moss. You can plant the fritillaria outside in the garden when it's over - they love open meadows, so will do well in any moist, well drained soil, and will come back up and see you year after year.