How to get your garden sorted, by yourself. FAST.


Tis the season.

One sunny day and we’re all looking outside and wishing our gardens were how we wanted them to be.

'Come and sort my garden out!’ the messages say (or words to that effect). I get it, I really do. The sap is rising, and we just feel compelled to get it sorted, right now. Panic ensues and out of that panic, all our deep-seated fears and doubts bubble softly up to the surface. 

They generally take the form of three myths:


  1. I don’t have time to do this myself. 

Do you have time to scroll? If you have time to scroll, then you have time for your outdoor space. All it takes is five minutes a day.


  1. I don’t know enough to do this myself

Are you a sentient human being? Are you open to a learning experience? Then you can do this.


  1. I don’t have ‘green fingers'

Green fingers don’t exist. It’s about becoming interested enough. We become interested when we actually DO stuff. 


Okay. Now for the reason you clicked on this post:


How to get your garden sorted, by yourself,  FAST.


What follows is a list, in no particular order, of things you can do right now, which will make your garden really lovely, and somewhere you’ll want to spend time in. You’ll notice that none of the things on this list is particularly planty or complicated. In fact most of these things are more to do with husbandry (outdoor tidying) than anything else. Before you begin though, remember one thing:


Start at the back door.

Don’t look beyond the first thing you see and just work on that. Do it for five minutes and then call it a day. I promise you will end up doing more, and wanting to do more.

The list:

  1. Sweep. Find a broom and sweep all the paved or decked or hard bits. Terrace, paths, steps. If you have algae on your deck or paving then hire a pressure washer and clean it off. This will make the garden safe; not breaking your neck is key to enjoying your garden.
  2. Mow. If you have a lawn, mowing will do more for your garden than any other single job. You can get away with murder everywhere else if you mow. Truth. SWEAR.
  3. Remove. Give away or freecycle anything that’s not working for you, or spoiling your space. This could be garden furniture, but more specifically, I’d advise you to get rid of any flower pots smaller than 40cm diameter. Too many pots or containers, particularly if they are small ones, will not only increase the workload (watering, tending etc) but also look hectic. A small number of large pots is less work and looks immeasurably better.
  4. Chop. Anything that’s dead and crispy. It’s probably last year’s shoots on a perennial plant, and if you look at the base there will be new leaves appearing. Chop the dead stuff. 
  5. Weed. Anything that you know is a weed. Google common weeds and see if you can identify plants that you think shouldn’t be there. Weeding sounds boring but it’s actually really therapeutic and even fun. First, get yourself a good tool. I like the Hori Hori knife or this widger by Burgon and Ball. Or just go round the garden and tug at the weeds. Some of them, like chick weed, will just come up easily, roots and all. If you don’t have a good weeding tool right now, just go out and find weeds that you can easily remove with a tug. Other ones, like couch grass, or bindweed (google them) will need more ingenuity. Some weeds, like herb robert, are so lovely you should probably consider removing just a few. A kneeler helps too, and so does a really good podcast. Be gentle, but firm. Calm and assertive. Do one area at a time. Don’t look up. Stay focused. 
  6. Feed. Put some bird food out, somewhere you can see it. Srsly. you need to see those birds, doing stuff. You need to.
  7. Loiter. Spend five minutes every day in your outside space. You don’t have to do stuff, you just need to linger there (add wine if you want). You may want to provide yourself with somewhere to sit. Put your phone away. Listen. Sniff. Watch. Do I sound like I knit yoghurt? I’m not quite there yet, but I have learned that my garden provides me with something nourishing, that I like to call Vitamin G. You should try it.


That’s it for now. It's just the start. Let me know how you go. 


x Laetitia

Rose pruning rules - the five minute way

 Roses galore

Roses galore

If you haven’t pruned yet, panic not.

Just gather sharp secateurs, pruning saw, some gauntlets and a reckless attitude. If you're unsure, then it pays to be bold rather than tentative; roses really are the big bruisers of the garden and can take a proper beating, so don't be shy.

It's okay to get it wrong! You may lose some flowers, or your bush may be wonky for a bit, but who cares? It'll right itself at some point down the line, and YOU'RE LEARNING

Rush out and chop dead, diseased or dying wood, and anything spindly right down to the base on all your roses, after which, a shrub rose (a bush) simply needs all stems pruned by one third of their height. Try to cut just above a bud, but don't sweat it; your aim should be to get the thing tidy. For climbing roses, remove anything that's not going to play ball when you try to tie it into your framework, so if it's sticking out or too tough to bend to your whims, then chop it. For ramblers (climbing roses that flower only once) then take out a third of the oldest shoots. Hybrid teas (big flowers on single stems), and really overgrown monsters need razing to about 10cm above ground. Treat floribundas (many flowers on single stems) the same way, cutting higher up though, about 30cm above ground.


Finally, give them a feed after pruning with rose fertiliser. They also love a good helping of manure around their roots.


There you go. Now just do it.

Messy but Marvellous: Two more amazing winter scented shrubs

As promised, and following on from my last post, here are a couple more winter scented shrubs of utter gorgeosity, but ones which you might need a little more space for...either that, or you have to NOT mind that they look a bit meh for the rest of the year. The best treatment for both of these would be to plant them in profusion (i.e. get yourself a WOODLAND) but failing that, one specimen, tucked away somewhere near to where you're going to walk is definitely the way forward. Needless to say, what these two lack in general looks, they make up for with their winter scent. Here goes:

Lonicera x purpusii 'Winter Beauty'

  Lonicera  x  purpusii  'Winter Beauty' (Winter honeysuckle)

Lonicera x purpusii 'Winter Beauty' (Winter honeysuckle)

Gorgeous isn't it? So delicate, and the scent is out of this world - delicate, violet mixed with sweet syrupy yumminess. 

Here's the wider view though:

 Pretty, arching, but needs space, and a plain, dark background.

Pretty, arching, but needs space, and a plain, dark background.

Chimonanthus praecox

  Chimonanthus praecox  (Wintersweet)

Chimonanthus praecox (Wintersweet)

I do have pictures of this when it's not looking quite so awful, but putting them up would be a misrepresentation of what you're actually getting here. THIS is what the flowers become pretty quickly, and this is what you're looking at most of the time. Eeeek but OH THE SCENT! Indescribable, delicious, sweetly floral and JUST WHAT YOU NEED on a winter day. 

...and the wider view:

 Um, sort of spindly and bare... again, needs a plain dark background to help it shine, but only if your nose is blocked.

Um, sort of spindly and bare... again, needs a plain dark background to help it shine, but only if your nose is blocked.

Both of these of course are totally worth it. But I would say that, wouldn't I! The truth is that I used to have both of them in my garden, but they had to go when I revamped it, as they just didn't do enough for me during the rest of the year. BUT if I had the space, wild horses wouldn't keep me from planting lots of them.

xx Laetitia

Scented shrubs for winter glamour

Scent is a massive topic in winter gardening stories, especially as it is one of the more glamorous horticultural things we gardening journalists get to ramble on about amidst a sea of chopping, planting and wrapping advice; I challenge you to find a gardening section at this time of year without its annual dose of scented winter shrubs. You lovely lot don’t necessarily gravitate towards gardening sections though, which is why I’m giving you my favourite winter scented shrubs here, in the hope that you’ll seek these out the next time you’re in a garden centre, and snap one (or all of them) up for your own space. I promise, you will not be disappointed.


Sarcococca confusa

  Sarcococca confusa  (Christmas box / Sweet box)

Sarcococca confusa (Christmas box / Sweet box)

Smart, evergreen shrub that looks like nothing very much all year and then suddenly bursts forth into flower in January with tiny white flowers, which pump out the most glorious sweet scent. A couple of these in pots, flanking your front door is the way to go, and if you have the space, put some out the back as well. Incredibly tolerant of most conditions, even the dreaded dry shade. NOTHING NOT TO LOVE!



Daphne odora ‘Aureomarginata’

  Daphne odora  'Aureomarginata'

Daphne odora 'Aureomarginata'

Absolutely stunning pale-margined green leaves and waxy pink flowers with reflexed petals that smell like you’ve died and gone to heaven. This is the HAUTE of winter scent - it really really is. You have to be nice to it, and give it a sheltered spot with well-drained but fertile soil, but if it likes you then glory will be yours. 


Viburnum tinus

  Viburnum tinus

Viburnum tinus

Don’t turn your nose up and tell me it’s only for a car park…this is a true beauty – loves being clipped and preened, into lolly pops and hedges and all manner of things, and has scented flowers from December onwards. 


And if you don’t mind a bit of messy…

These above area all frightfully well-behaved plants. Next time I'll put up a couple of rather messier (but no less gloriously scented) options for those with a bit more space...stay tuned my loves...





Five minute gardening jobs for Christmas sanity

I know I know, it’s nearly Christmas. You’ve got all that stuff STILL to do, and all that stuff STILL to buy, and everything’s just too much. I know.



It might seem odd to think of venturing out into the garden or balcony right now, and you’re right, it goes against all our thousands of years of human programming, which tells us very clearly that if we find a warm safe place to hide out from the elements, we should stay put for as long as possible, until, that is, we get hungry, at which point, we’re going to need to venture out in search of food. The trouble is that because our warm safe place these days is home, where food is plentiful; we need never go outside at all.


That lovely warm feeling you get once you’ve been for a walk after an enormous Christmas lunch? THAT feeling is the golden one, where you’ve moved your body and cleared your mind. When you pick up a rake, or a spade, or a trowel, you not only get outside and clear your mind, but you maintain your outside space as well…BONUS! - it’s basically like going to the gym and when you get back you find that your garden has been tidied. Never has the hashtag #winwin been more apt.


So in the spirit of “I REALLLLY REALLLLLY REALLLLY don’t wanna go outside today, here are my top three, maximum payback, blow-out-the-cobwebs, I-am-a-total-god(DESS) five minute jobs for December. 


1. Rush out, pick up a trowel, pick a small piece of earth, or a couple of containers (whatever you’ve got) brush any leaves away, remove any weeds that you see, and chop off any unsightly dead stuff. Keep your eyes on this one spot, do NOT look at the rest of the garden or any of the other pots until you’ve finished this one area. Once you’ve finished, either go inside or (and this is the more likely scenario) move on to the next bit.



2. Get some bulbs (tulips, alliums, crocus, irises…whatever takes your fancy) and quickly plant as many as possible in five minutes, using either a bulb planter, or a trowel. Once you’ve finished, either go inside or (and this is the more likely scenario) plant some more bulbs.



3. Grab a broom and sweep your paths, or if you don’t have paths, sweep your patio, or your steps for five minutes. Pick up all the leaves and either scatter them between the plants in your flowerbeds or bag them up into a plastic bag, punch some holes into it and store it somewhere out of the way to make leaf mould.  Once you’ve finished, either go inside or (and this is the more likely scenario) do some more sweeping. 


Have a truly peaceful Christmas everyone...see you on the other side!

xx Laetitia

A gooseberry salsa...(sort-of)


Blogging food recipes has become a bit of a mind-game of late, and I'm fully blaming radio 4's brilliant comedy 'In and Out of the Kitchen', about a food writer, Damien Trench, who lives in Queen's Park with his partner Anthony, and who basically wants to BE Nigel Slater. His voice, when reciting his recipes is a  completely and perfectly crafted amalgam of all the food writers whose cook-books we started taking to bed and reading for pleasure way back when; that nonchalant 'just toss it in a large, shallow pan and anoint liberally with very best olive oil', peppered with sentences like 'You can, (and should) add lashings of best butter' etc. etc...

It is only when confronted with stuff like this that I realise how derivative my writing really is, and I look back and laugh, not at what I wrote, but the way in which I wrote it...not cringing exactly, just metaphorically patting my younger self on the head, telling her she was sweet to try, but look, you have your own voice you know.

Mark Diacono is one writer who doesn't suffer from copy-cat tendencies. His new book could only be crafted by him, and I am greedily gobbling it up. Quite apart from all the recipes, it is a treat to get inside Otter Farm, and really understand how it is laid out (there is a beautifully illustrated, useful map to show you where everything grows), and the story of how it all began.


Once again, I have gooseberries galore, from a bush, coincidentally bought from Otter Farm a couple of years ago. We like them raw in this family - even the small baby seems to relish the tartness, but there are always loads. Last year I did this relish, which was truly scrumptious, and I recommend it to anyone, but to celebrate this year's harvest, I made Mark's salsa...a recipe of which he claims he is 'indecently proud'.

Being me, I rushed the whole thing and read the ingredients of the salsa recipe and the method for the ensuing one, (for Gooseberry Sauce), directly underneath it, which begins with the always welcome words 'Put all the ingredients into a large pan'....this I did, getting rather excited about photographing the thing in its raw state, in the pan (i.e. thinking about the BLOG, rather than the actual recipe).


It did look very pretty indeed, but then I realised that half the ingredients are of course, supposed to be raw (it being a salsa and all). Hey ho.

So the result is NOT Mark's salsa at all, but a sort of half-cooked relish of sorts. The shallot is translucent rather than crisp and opaque. The lovage, mint and spring chives are a rather sludgy green rather than the emerald that they should be. The gooseberries are rather too squishy but my goodness it is bloody delicious. I'm having a hard time leaving it be until it can be paired with some smoked mackerel and a salad, like wot it tells me in the book...sorry Hunk.




A vase of Nigella

IMG_6912 Nigella - one of those blooms that makes you feel like a professional photographer...impossible to take a bad photo of it. I have an abundance this year, thanks to my sowing a few plants two years ago, and being scandalously lax with the weeding etc. ever since.

Their beauty is that they spread, without asking permission, but never making a nuisance of themselves. The perfect party guest.


If you have none in your garden, then clear a bit of earth this autumn and get some seeds in. They need very little encouragement... a little thinning perhaps. They will flower, like these, next year, and you should cut lots, (for the bedroom I think...these are gloriously bedroomy blooms). Strip off the fennel-like leaves from each stem with a swipe of your fingers, and cut them short...(long is better as part of a big bodacious bunch, with other flowers). Leave a good half to go to seed (they are the most beauteous of seed heads, and then do nothing, letting the seeds fall and start the process again without your lifting a finger - that's my kind of gardening.


My little jug was a wedding present, from and by Annabel Ridley engraved with important information about some of my favourite plants:

Lavender 'shall breathe forth the breath of Heaven'

Sage 'for domestic virtue'

Rosemary 'for remembrance and friendship'

Marjoram 'joy of the mountains'

Thyme 'like dawn in paradise' (Kipling)

Hyacinth 'for the feeding of the soul'

Fennel 'for strength, courage and longevity'


Chelsea 2014: Highlights

It was hot and sweaty...the kind of weather in which a lady in a corset would swoon. Luckily I was not in my corset yesterday...but I do want to salute the high-heeled brigade; extremely impressive...I am in awe.

The judges have their criteria, but I know nothing of that.

Here are my top ten Chelsea snapshots...views that made me go oooh; ideas I want to steal; things that I won't forget in a hurry.






























There are men in my garden...

...they have been busy doing things for a while. IMG_6799

First they dug a hole.

I've noticed that generally, men love to dig holes. Just look at them closely next time you pass some road-works. They have a good dig, and then they straighten up and admire the hole they've made. They often chat about the hole to their mates, and point to different bits of it (different bits of a void). The two men in my garden are no different. They took enormous care with their hole. And I had to admit, when they'd finished, that it really was very, very beautiful.


Then they started mixing cement.

They shovelled sand into their mixer, and added water, and they carefully poured the cement into their hole - not all in one go, but very carefully, in sections, making sure it was perfectly level (with a tiny, imperceptible drop, for drainage). This took effort and time, and great skill. They smiled while they worked, smoothing the cement with a long, thin piece of wood, balancing expertly on their haunches, like landing acrobats, or someone in the jungle with a javelin, stalking prey...all this with squinty eyes, and a perpetual roll-up, poking out of their mouths.


Then they began laying bricks.

London stock - soft pink with apricot undertones. They worked from the centre, using taut string for guidance, and a spirit level on each and every brick, checking and re-checking. They stopped regularly for tea and cigarettes, and to eat over-processed sandwiches - a few words exchanged between them - always looking at the work, always surveying the next bit. Once dry, they began brushing sand between the bricks, painstakingly poking it and packing it tight into every crevice with palette knives. Squinty eyes. Cigarettes.


Then they began the wall.

It's a tricky job, to create a retaining wall that slopes with the natural contours of the garden, melting down at the bottom, into nothing (well, lawn, and  bulbs). The top of the wall must be sit-on-able, with each brick on its side. Many of them must be cut to size. Each one must be examined...mulled over...thought about. Slop of cement, tap tap tap, spirit level, tap tap, squinty eyes, cigarettes. The sun comes out, and Babety gets home from school. She runs past them and jumps on the trampoline, waving at them. They wave back. They leave at 5pm. I wait for them to go, and rush into the garden and stroke the bricks, marvelling at the men, and their skill, and the joy of watching something slowly materialising out of nothing. I think about the value of repetition...Tap tap tap. Spirit level. Tap tap, repeat.


The last leg appears.

I suddenly have the urge to feed them, these men who never speak, and just smoke and smile and tap and slop. I buy sausage rolls. Big ones, from a posh butcher. I hand them over; "for you" I say, gesticulating wildly, pointing at my mouth. They smile at me indulgently, mutter thanks, and turn back to their work. At last the central stone is cut. I had originally wanted an old piece of  York stone, but time was not on my side, and we ended up pilfering from the terrace (which will go someday soon). It looks perfect. It is flat. We can put a fire bowl on it. I am in raptures. They leave as quickly and quietly as they appeared, removing all the rubbish to reveal flattened, yellowed lawn beneath, and I rather miss them. It is only when I wave my thanks, that I realise not a single sentence has been exchanged between us.



And now it's my turn.

I've been digging hard, removing many stones, and planning my assault of plants. It will soften, and make the circle recede (or at least, this is what I hope it will do). I am enjoying having a flat space to put my cup of tea. It will be a space for eating and drinking, and for plonking oneself. There will be cushions aplenty. I am ridiculously happy about my circle of bricks.

Agapanthus 101

 How to grow Agapanthus


My first day off yesterday, in just short of a year, and I got to spend it ogling at pretty flowers with the marvellous Debora who lunches with me irregularly, and shares my passion for extremely bad television.

We were at the RHS Spring Show - that vast hall, with the concentrated scent of new fresh growth, punctuated by narcissi, hyacinth, mimosa...depending on where you are standing.


I am a sucker for spring...I cannot tell you how many bluer-than-blue corydalis, whiter-than-white anemones; how many tiny pots of scented pelargoniums I have bought at these shows - they totally see me coming. This year I was utterly sidetracked though, by Agapanthus. Hoyland Plant Centre, who hold the National Collection of Agapanthus, had a stand, complete with a lovely, geeky table explaining the different stages of growth, and (crucially) small plants in 9cm pots, and divided sections of larger plants, which I can actually afford.


We went upstairs and sat down to listen to Steve give a talk on Agapanthus, and, as usual, I learned more from this twenty minute question and answer session than I'd gleaned from years of reading books or internet. One person with a passion, who knows his subject inside out and is able to explain it in plain English - the whole audience was rapt.

Here, in a nutshell, is what I learned.

There are two different types of Agapanthus. Deciduous and Evergreen. Deciduous are hardy pretty much everywhere. Evergreen need to be in the south (or see below for methods of protection).


Needs to be well-drained. Steve uses two parts ordinary multi-purpose mixed with one part sharp sand or grit. Treat them mean. Too many nutrients will produce leaves and no flowers. (see below for fertiliser)

 Root restriction.

The rumours are true; these plants like their roots restricted at first. This helps the rhizome to form and bulk up, allowing for flowering. Obviously they therefore do well in pots. Here is the kind of pot-bound-ness that is perfect for an agapanthus. Don't re-pot until this level is achieved.


Here's a plant that is too pot-bound and needs re-potting:


If you want to plant in the ground and the roots are not yet congested enough, sink them inside a pot with the bottom removed.


Feed regularly with a high potash feed (that's the 'K', or Potassium in your 'NPK' fertiliser; their feed is 30% potash) from March to September. This will encourage flowering.

 Winter care.

Give containers a really good soaking in November, buy a bag of bark chippings and mound them over the crown of the plant (in amongst the leaves if it's evergreen) and, if you can move them, bring them inside somewhere frost-free (evergreen will need light, deciduous won't) for the winter. If you can't move them, wrap the container with bubble wrap and then the whole thing with fleece. If you're in a sheltered area you'll get away without doing this, but if your plant is super-precious to you, then Steve says you should do it anyway.

In the border, just use bark chippings and mound them up over the buds.


Use a knife that's an appropriate size for whatever you're chopping. Steve likes his meat-cleaver. He also uses one of those Nigella-type mezzaluna things for smaller plants. He looks rather better than Nigella wielding the thing. It is a sight to behold. Sorry I didn't get a picture.


Hack away...these plants are tough, but if you are using something serrated, then be sure to shave the cut with a knife afterwards so that the wound can heal cleanly (it's the difference between having a clean cut and a graze on your skin - clean cuts heal better and quicker. Leave the pieces to heal over for 24 hours before re-planting in the compost above. If you're re-planting in the ground then you don't need to do the plastic pot trick if the plant has flowered the previous year and has flower-buds on it - the rhizome is sufficiently bulky.

Here is the inimitable Steve with some of his cleavers. IMG_6709

I have a container-grown agapanthus that I've neglected for years and hasn't flowered for the last two or three. It's so pot-bound that it's pushing itself out of the container. I was about it release it from its pot, chop it up and re-plant in the border, but Steve says I should re-pot it first in a larger pot, feed and mollycoddle it for another year, and then chop it up, once it's flowering again - invaluable advice, brilliantly delivered.

I bought a beautiful chunk of Agapanthus praecox from Hoyland - an evergreen that I'm going to put with all my other agapanthus  in a special new bed I'm creating....updates soon.


Bedside bulbs #2

Daffs and muscari.



...started off life like this, (below) back in October....


I put them by the bed, because I am up a lot at night, and, well, they add a bit of cheer to the proceedings..




Go outside and play!

Lovely parcel in the mail the other day. I don't think that childish thrill of getting a parcel in the post will ever leave me. Brown paper packages and all that...

This one was in a jiffy bag, and it contained Dawn Isaac's new book:


I suppose I should give you a disclaimer here, because I know Dawn from twitter (and now in 'real', as some call it), and I'm a big fan. Her energy is infectious - she's a bit of a kid herself (and I say that as a compliment). Little wonder then, that she has nailed one of the most difficult and overcrowded genres in the book shop. Gardening/crafting with children.

I'm sure my mum would deny it, but I *do* have a memory of being told to 'go outside and play' as a child. The thing is, sometimes you just need a little inspiration. There are so many things I love about this book. The ideas are brilliant - from planting a lettuce ball, to making flower fairies (see below) and creating a mobile herb garden (all things I want to do with my little one), to simple, pleasurable, wholesome outdoor stuff, like catching autumn leaves and making dens.


Everything is photographed, but there's no annoying snazzy styling, just simple, joyful pictures of kids having fun doing stuff. The best bit is the writing, which is directed towards the child, with references, here and there to an alien species called 'the grown-ups'. When I read this I'm immediately placed into the mind and heart of my child (emphasis on going out and having loads of fun...NOT making picture-perfect stuff! *stern face to self*).

Last Saturday, when Babety was slumped in front of Beebies after a particularly taxing morning dancing to 'Man in the Mirror' (don't ask), instead of saying the usual "it's such a lovely day, why don't we go to the park", I scooped her up, stuck a thick piece of masking tape around her wrist (sticky side up) and sent her off with a friend and The Hunk to make 'Nature Bracelets' (page 94). She bombed out of the door like a rocket. Sadly the bracelets got covered in mud because everyone started squelching about in puddles, so no photo here, but you get the's #whatevergetsyououtside.

I showed her Dawn's book when I got home, and asked her to mark everything in it that she'd like to do. This was the result, and I think it speaks volumes:


 Thanks Dawn x

You can find Dawn's blog, full of ideas for gardening with children, right here.

She's also on Twitter and Facebook

Snowdrops and Happiness

Snowdrops, gone over but not forgotten from Laetitia Maklouf on Vimeo.

I made a little video...many reasons but mainly because I sit around tapping away at my computer for far longer than I strictly enjoy. Doing a video takes less time, and I get to smile at you (yes, all three of you mum, dad, hunk). I like smiling...and thinking aloud.

This one is about what to do with your gone-over snowdrops (yes, either plant them, or give them away). I may do more, if I am not laughed out of town... Thanks for indulging me *smiles*




In other, much more sumptuous news, I'm taking part in a competition with Neom Organics (amazing bath, body and smelly candles company that use only organic ingredients and NO nasties whatsoever). They're celebrating spring with a big Happiness Prize Package. I love their stuff, particularly the candles and reed diffusers which I tend to use in the winter when I'm desperate to be reminded of warmer weather and the wonderful scent of Spring and Summer.

There's a big bundle of prizes on offer (including books by me) - click here, or on the images to check it out, and good good luck!

Oh, and I also have a special discount code for you to use at Neom - just sign up (below), and I'll send it to you....don't worry, you can always unsubscribe when you've got the code...and I'll never ever share your details with anyone else - it wouldn't be cricket.

happiness candle


On Spring, Perfection, Yanking stuff out, and Dead wood...

Hello - a little post about gardening, and happiness... IMG_6740

I've been out there with my garden, clearing, weeding, dividing and re-planting and generally yanking stuff out. It's a new thing, this removal of stuff; the garden has reached its tipping point. The shrubs I planted four years ago have settled in and spread, obliterating the perennials that were planted alongside them to make the garden sing in its first few years. Though I always knew in my head that this day would come...this time when I would have to re-gig certain things because they had (shock horror!) actually never seemed possible when I started out. Those little plants, with so much bare earth around them.


...from tiny acorns and all that.


I work quickly, and in a rather slap-dash fashion. There isn't time to linger over anything too long, and I am a one-woman-band when it comes to my garden.


These first bright cold days of Spring (can I say Spring? or will I jinx it?) always both delight and panic me. Small voices sometimes spoil the loveliness of it by reminding me that my garden should be beautiful, always...After all, I am 'that gardener woman' who writes books about gardening. I don't want to be the proverbial dentist with bad teeth. But getting out there and doing what needs to be done generally lets me zone out from this chatter. I think about time passing, and my family, and how exquisite it is that there is new life underneath all the dead stuff I am clearing away. The important stuff - the fat, bright buds of living tissue emerge, and the futility of hating on myself for being unable to attain 'perfection' gets composted with the rest of the dead wood. I go back inside, hot and aching from my allotted two hours - full-hearted....happy.





By the bed: February posy

Exquisite small things, photographed past their best but none-the-worse for that... IMG_6729

Picked by my four-year-old, (with a little help from my mother)


Ingredients: Narcissi, crocus, rosemary, pulmonaria, and one rather floppy hellebore.

IMG_6735I particularly love crocus indoors as they start basking....

...tangerine stamens against purple...that's a colour combo.