Living in the now….

You know that thing we all do….

….where we convince ourselves that when such and such a thing has happened things will be easier, different, better. When I pass my exams, leave school, lose weight, get that job, find the perfect man, ditch the perfect man when he turns out to be not so perfect, (actually I’ve stuck with mine and am really pleased that I have but you know what I mean), have a baby, get promoted, retire; when the children pass their exams, leave school, lose weight…. oops here we go again….

So anyway – when any and all of these things happen I will have arrived at the place I was waiting for and life will be better.

Well you know what I’ve discovered…. it doesn’t work like that. There are a few problems with this approach. First off, what if the thing you’ve been waiting for never happens? Does that mean life will never be as good as it was supposed to be, you were hoping it to be, you deserve it to be? And secondly, what if you get the thing you’ve been waiting for and it turns out to be different from how and what you were expecting?

Because you know what I’ve learnt…. life is invariably different from what we expect. And thank heavens it is. Because how boring it would be if it was just a question of planning and waiting. The problem is that when we get stuck in the groove of always looking ahead, waiting for the big event that is going to change our lives forever, then we don’t see what is going on around us. And what is going on around us is the really interesting stuff.

Gardens and gardening have taught me a lot about this. Because they never do what they’re told, things rarely work out the way you think they are going to, and even on the darkest days stuff is going on below the surface to bring delight when you least expect it.

You know how it is…. You can pin all your hopes on the roses blooming in June, and like this year they bloom in July. IMG_2900You can plan your entire garden around box topiary for structure and form – and end up with box blight….. aaaaaarggghhhIMG_1555You can plant four malus coronaria var. dasycalyx (that’s crab apple trees to the uninitiated) and only three of them thrive.

Spot the weedy one in the corner!
Spot the weedy one in the corner!

These are the challenges. We have to adapt and move forwards. And more often than not we find that what looked like disaster is a window to a different and better way of looking at things.

That’s gardening for you. If you want order and predictability then you’re in for disappointment. But if you stay alert, keep your eyes open and live in the moment then there is so much pleasure to be had. Like the aquilegia in my garden earlier this year that has self seeded in abundance and joined hands with the tulips. IMG_0849Like the stachys that miraculously appeared out of nowhere  (in the compost I’m thinking) because it knew how good it would look with the iris and allium.IMG_2906 Like the shuttlecock fern that has spread around the tiny dancer flowers of the dicentra.IMG_0854

These are the joys of gardening – the unpredictable, the unexpected, the unanticipated. We all need goals, we need direction and focus. But if we’re too busy pinning our hopes on the future we might miss what’s going on in the present. And the now is where it’s all happening….

Let them eat cake….

You know that proverb ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it’? Well here’s a question…. who says?

And another question…. why not?

I mean for crying out loud, you can’t get away from cakes at the moment, whether it’s baking them, eating them, having them, trying to stay away from them. And I bet you a tray of chocolate butterfly cakes with butter cream icing that with all the cake making going on at the moment there are plenty of people out there who are having and eating at the same time. No matter who says you can’t….

And you know something….. I reckon I’m one of them.

I came to this decision a couple of nights ago as I sat in a short sleeved shirt at 7.30 in the evening, guzzling a vast gin and tonic, with chilled out music wafting through the airwaves around me, looking out across the millpond water of Pollenca Bay. Pollenca Bay EveningSo Graham and I turn to each and grin and say ‘how lucky are we?’ And that’s when we have the ‘cake and eat it’ discussion. Cos someone has said to him that his trouble is that he wants to ‘have his cake and eat it.’ And after giving this a great deal of thought he has decided that his reaction is…. yeah, too damn right, you bet I do!

And this week we reckon we got it just about right.

We weren’t supposed to be there. I was meant to be hard at work, nose to the grindstone, garden designing my butt off. He was meant to be hard at work, nose to the grindstone, doing whatever it is he does when he isn’t having a wonderful time with me. But thanks to me putting my course on hold and him deciding that there is more to life than playing it safe, we booked last minute flights and went out to shut the house up for the winter.

Except for it was still summer out there. The weather forgot to change and we had blue skies and temperatures in the eighties. So you see what I mean – cake, have, eat. Simples.

So Pollenca this week was chocolate and coffee and carrot – all my favourite cakes rolled into one. Some had pink icing….

Pine Walk Pink
Pine Walk Pink

IMG_1493IMG_1501Some had red….IMG_1491

Some orange….

IMG_1516 Some even had blue…. IMG_1497There were multi coloured cakes….IMG_1510 And cakes with no icing at all….

Pollarding in Pollenca!
Pollarding in Pollenca!

And I’m going to leave you with this image. Spotted yesterday as we walked along Pine Walk beside the water’s edge. You can’t see them all but there were actually three dogs in the boat with this rather gorgeous girl.IMG_1494Who knows where the four of them were going….IMG_1495But I thought you would like to share them with me. Because they’re fab. And when things are as fab as this, having and eating at the same time are…. well it’s obvious isn’t it…. they’re a piece of cake.

Long Barn magic ….

Last week I went back to Long Barn. It was one of those autumn days that start out grey and gloomy but slip quietly into fabulousness while your back is turned. This is the time of year when you need to be paying close attention. Because while you are looking in the other direction invariably something wonderful is happening behind you.

It was raining as we started out cutting back the daisies – erigeron karvinskianus, the Mexican daisy. This innocuous little sparkler has been an unexpected star for me this year. It caught my eye in the nursery at Beth Chatto’s garden when I visited in May and I bought three pots of it for my own garden. There it was again in Majorca in June, planted in drifts under olive trees in the garden of one of the newly restored villas on Pine Walk, looking effortlessly gorgeous. And when I went to Long Barn in August for my week of work experience it was everywhere, softening the paths and steps, flowing across the terrace.

But last week, under the instruction of Richard, the head gardener, Anne and I were putting it to bed for the winter.Erigeron karvanskianus I felt rather cruel, the little daisy was still looking sprightly after a long hot summer of hard work. But it had to be done, so that it could take a breather before doing its thing again next year.

So we were outside in the rain…. And at one point we had to take shelter in the greenhouse, where Richard gave us a quick lesson in propagating plants from non-flowering shoots. And then back outside and on with the daisies. And while we were working the sun came out.

Suddenly the garden was vibrant and glowing. IMG_0540The penstemons in particular were jewel-like.

IMG_0544So Richard allowed me to take some cuttings, and following his instructions I potted up some babies of my own.

IMG_0545They’re on my window sill now.

It’s a wonderful thought that next year I might be able to have a sprinkling of Long Barn magic in my own garden.

The Only Way is Essex……

Who’d have thought it…..

If you’ve read any of my previous posts you’ll know that I’ve been going on a bit about how it’s the Spanish who really know about style. I’ve been drooling over graceful old villas on Pine Walk in Puerto Pollenca, and suffering “I want one of those’ moments at every turn in Mestre Paco, ‘the best interior design shop in the world’ in Pollenca. So imagine my surprise to find that the ultimate in cool, understated, utterly fabulous design is right on my doorstep at home in the UK. In ……. wait for it……. a bird sanctuary. In……. wait for it even more…. Essex.

Last Tuesday morning I went anti-clockwise round the M25, through the Dartford Tunnel, off at Junction 31, and hung a left towards Rainham Marshes. I had a date to meet garden designer and KLC lecturer, Catherine Heatherington, at the RSPB visitor’s centre to help her with some research she’s doing for her PHD. She had asked for volunteers to take a walk round the nature reserve, then meet up with her and talk about the experience and answer some questions for her.

So what am I expecting? Well I’ve driven along the stretch of the M25 that goes through this particular part of the world countless times. And never felt even remotely tempted to stop and explore. Flat uninspiring landscape, industrial sites, business parks, grey smoke, grey river – the last place in the world you’d expect to find anything beautiful.

So it comes as something of a shock when I follow the signs to Rainham Marshes, turn into the sanctuary and park my car in the free car park. Because as soon as I catch sight of the visitor centre I know that I’m somewhere a bit special.

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And once I start to follow the boardwalk pathway through the marshes I know I’m in another place altogether.

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It’s so quiet. The distant hum of traffic on the motorway in the distance, the faint rumble of the Eurostar trains speeding past, serves to emphasise the peacefulness, so that the calls of the birds, whose names I don’t know, sound startlingly clear and sweet. The sculptural nature of so many of the plants here is thrown into sharp relief by the landscape.

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As I walk I feel alone, but not lonely, comfortably contained within this landscape which stretches away from me on all sides.  At every turn there are modern day Constables and Turners for eye feasting. IMG_1135And it’s this aspect that is a theme in the design of so many of the man-made structures within this site. The framing of these stunning views is done for me, inviting me to stop and gaze.

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It’s in these man-made structures, their design, the materials used, and the way that they harmonise and work with the landscape, that I find the style that was the last thing I expected to come across in a bird sanctuary. I said something in one of my last posts about the way things were put together in ‘the best interior design shop in the world’, so that ‘it was as if they just happened to come together without anybody really noticing how it happened’. Well I find that same effortless style here.

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This site combines the supremely modern with remnants of past and there are constant reminders that in one of its previous lives the marshes were used by the military as a firing range.

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It really is the most extraordinary place. There is something here for everyone and I can’t wait to come back. So do yourself a favour and go……..

And if you are thinking of going, and would be willing to take part in Catherine’s research leave a comment here and I’ll put you in touch with her.

Sometimes I just sits……

By big garden standards mine isn’t….

Big that is.

Of course it’s all relative. But compared to some of the gardens I’ve been visiting over the past few months mine is pretty small. A compact half an acre or so. If that….

But I’m perfectly happy with it. More than happy in fact. Because what my garden has got in spadefulls is an abundance of places to sit down and smell the roses. Which I’ve been doing a lot recently – because if ever there was a year to smell the roses this has been it.

So here’s a quick guide to the eight…. yes eight…. places to sit in my not very big garden.

Let’s start at the very beginning…. The front garden.

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Not that we ever sit out there. And not that there are any roses. But there is   Trachelospermum jasminoides which is smelling particularly wonderful at the moment.

So through the gate into the back garden, and the first and most frequently used place to sit is the one that you come to when you step out of the kitchen door.

IMG_1111This is the coffee drinking, newspaper reading, catch up on gossip corner.

And a Rosa Blanche Double de Coubert that you can just see the corner of on the left of the picture works its hardest all summer to make sure this particular spot smells pretty damn good. The rather droopy pink rose on the right scrambles up the pergola and last week was putting on a really spectacular show. It’s past it’s best now. (I know how it feels!)

Next is the bench under the Medlar tree. IMG_1080Sit here and you can sniff to your heart’s content – looking out across Variegata de Bologna and Winchester Cathedral, doing their bit to make this corner worth a breathing in moment.

Then the garden dining room.

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And the completely fabulous climbing rose (whose name I’ve also forgotten) that wraps itself across the pergola.

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Then it’s up to the get away from it all terrace tucked into the furthest corner of the garden. (Which is not very far away but feels like it is.)

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And here Prince Charles (I kid you not!) is doing his darndest to make sure this area smells sweet.IMG_0208

But we’re not finished yet. Oh no….

Back towards the house, up the steps and through the arch into the ‘work in progress’ garden. This is the area where I planted a yew hedge on three sides of the flat lawn a couple of years ago, and lost one side of it to rot after last year’s perpetual downpour left the roots of the yew plants sitting in pools of water. They don’t like sitting in pools of water….

Which is particularly frustrating because what these yew plants probably didn’t realise was that they were being groomed for a starring role.

My husband is a died in the wool Chelsea fan.  And when I saw a picture of a yew hedge in a judge’s garden, topiarised into a jury, I decided to shape my own hedge into a row of football supporters. The death of a fair number of my hard working fans has thrown my plans into confusion. But undaunted I intend to carry on.

In the meantime the benches that face each other across the ‘football pitch’ look rather forlorn.

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So forlorn in fact that I’ve had to resort to some cheap tricks to make one of them look more interesting for this post.

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So finally to my ‘sit and rest after working in the veg garden’ seating area.

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I’m utterly ashamed to be showing pictures of  my ‘vegetable garden’, which at the moment is more of a thistle garden. It too is work in progress, started a couple of years ago and, like so many other things in this manic year of mine, left to fend for itself. But I’m looking forward to the day when I can sit, gin and tonic in hand, and look with pride at beds bursting with produce.

In the meantime I’m spoilt for choice when it comes to places where I can sit down and relax, and forget for a while about the work and the plans and the things that haven’t gone the way I wanted them to.

That great philosopher, Winnie the Pooh, understood how important it is to switch off from time to time.

As he so succinctly put it: ‘Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.’

Flowers with heart……

When I was little girl I used to try and make perfume with petals and water. And ever since I’ve had a particular passion for roses. Luckily for me, in my heavy clay soiled garden, roses seem to feel particularly at home. But unluckily for me this year’s late season means that I’m out here in Majorca while a lot of the rose activity is taking place.

So last week, before we flew out here, I went into the garden and took photos of those roses that were thoughtful enough to show their faces in time for me to appreciate them before I left.

Here’s a selection of those considerate blooms.

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With a couple of drop dead gorgeous peonies and a poppy stunner for good measure.

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Makes me almost look forward to getting back home.

How to make pastels sing……

I’ve just been to one of Marina Christopher‘s Plantsman Days at Bury Court near Farnham. These happen on the last Wednesday of every month and there are so many reasons why they are worth going to.

First Marina Christopher herself. Who is  smiley, approachable and incredibly knowledgeable. And yesterday, in her half an hour talk – which was very low key and down to earth – she changed the way I look at colour in the garden.

Second, Bury Court. It’s got a courtyard garden by Piet Oudolph and a front garden by Christopher Bradley Hole. What more need I say…..

Third, the plants. Valeriana officianalis at Bury CourtMolopospermum I’m adding these two (even thought I can’t pronounce them!) – Valeriana officianilis and Molopospermum peloponnesiacum – to my list of must haves.

Fourth, the lunch. Which was delicious.

So pastels then….

Pastels at Bury Court
Beautiful but sombre

Yesterday was a grey day (again!) and – as Marina pointed out – pastels on their own can look rather flat.

But add a splash of vibrant colour and it all changes….

So I went home and looked at my photos and picked out the ones that demonstrate this new found fact.

Oranges and yellows give this planting it's edge
Oranges and yellows give this planting it’s edge
Lupins and peonies bring this scheme to life
Lupins and peonies bring this scheme to life
It even works in my own garden!
It even works in my own garden! Prince Charles (the rose that is!) adds a shot of colour in the foreground

Just another day at Chelsea….

This year I don’t just get to go to the Chelsea Flower Show once. I get to go three times….

So yesterday found me back again. With a load more people than were there on Sunday – and a perishingly cold wind.

If I’m honest I’d been a little disappointed when I’d had a quick look at the show gardens on Sunday afternoon. So I wasn’t expecting to be wowed. But I was wrong. I just hadn’t been looking in the right places.

The garden I had been most impressed by on Sunday was the Artisan Garden by Kazayuki Ishihara. It was small but perfectly formed, and I was really pleased when it won Best in Show for its category. It looked even better on second viewing.

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Is there such a thing as ‘pot envy’? Because if there is I’m suffering from it. IMG_0687

These were on  the ‘Le Chene Vert’ Stand. I WANT ONE!

And Robert Frost’s garden for Homebase was simply gorgeous.

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But my favourite of all was Chris Beardshaw’s garden for Arthritis Research UK. IMG_0728IMG_0733IMG_0732It had movement and life and vigour. The planting was exuberant and bold. The choice of sculpture and hard landscaping spot on. As I stood jostled by the crowds I felt breathless with admiration. Definitely my Best in Show.

Spring fever…..

I love this time of year. It’s when my garden really starts to move up a gear. The weather’s been particularly kind to me, putting everything on hold while I was away for three weeks over Easter. Now the garden is madly busy, doing its spring thing in a great rush. And I’m having to pay attention and keep on my toes otherwise I might miss something.

IMG_2480This year the spring blossom seems more blossomy than ever. IMG_2488IMG_0549

And the tulips….

I might have rather overdone it with the pink and the purple.

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But the ever reliable Ballerinas are doing their orange thing.

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And the performers for the next act are dusting off their costumes and rehearsing their lines.IMG_2489

You’ve got to love spring…..

Base Camp Plants and Planting

So I’m home. Back from Nepal. I’ve been to Base Camp, got the t shirt. (I really have got the t shirt….) And now it’s back to horticulture, and planting plans, and all those other things that seemed a very long way away at 5,400 metres.

So I thought I’d get back into the swing of things by writing about the plants I saw on my travels.To be fair this is a totally inaccurate title for this post….. Because there are in fact very few plants at all at Base Camp. In fact precisely none. Apart from some incredibly determined lichen and mosses. Nothing lives up there for very long. But I’m suffering from jet lag…. And looking for dramatic effect. So I’m just going to stick with this title and see where it takes me.

Landing at the tiny airport in Lucla the first thing that strikes you are the wild rhododendron. IMG_1362The green foothills are dotted with splashes of pink and purple and carmine red. Prayer flags strung up in the trees add their own unique touch of character. Wild pieris  grow much taller and more stately than I’ve ever seen them at home, and the rough slopes are dotted with soft purple primula. Clumps of bamboo stand alone. And as we walk up the steep paths the scent of wild daphne hangs in the warm air.

The scenery changes as we go higher. A birch with papery red bark can be see everywhere rubbing shoulders with the rhododendron and pine. IMG_1492IMG_1692IMG_1516In certain places its bare branches are hung with swathes of a soft green lichen that I haven’t seen before. There’s low growing cotoneaster, eidelweiss twinkling by the edges of the pathway, and tall pines framing the view at every new corner. IMG_1372It is breathtaking, magical, extraordinary. I’m seeing plants that are very familiar to us in the UK, but in their natural setting. They look very content to be here.

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The interesting thing is the way the plants get closer to the ground as we get higher up. Juniper in particular – trees shrink to low growing shrubs as the altitude takes effect. There is lots of wild berberis and a wild rose that isn’t out yet but must look sensational when it is. IMG_1519The rhododendron are reduced from thirty to twenty to ten foot trees, their stems twisting and turning in on themselves as if they really want to grow taller but have lost their nerve.

The one thing that remains constant wherever there are people to be found, at whatever height, is the use of all and any patch of land, no matter how challenging, to grow IMG_1503vegetables.

IMG_1356IMG_1386 Yak dung is the fertiliser of choice. Potatoes and cabbages, onions and root vegetables are harvested and then buried back into their fields to protect them from the intense cold. They are dug up when they are needed. IMG_1738IMG_1363And there is even a vegetable garden in the courtyard of the Patan museum in the centre of Kathmandu.

And finally – flowers for colour are grown in whatever the people can lay their hands on – paint pots, buckets, tin cans.IMG_0368 IMG_1700You have to love this country……