ACCOUNTS FROM AN ACCIDENTAL GARDENER - WITH A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE AND A LOT OF IMPROVISATION... In a recent article in Gardeners’ World magazine, Monty Don expressed his enjoyment and envy of the carefree gardens created by the programme viewers. It made me think of the barn garden, not just the hopes and visions I have for it but also my approach to gardening. My style is what I think would politely be called, ‘carefree’. The easterly view from our home is one of distant rolling hills swathed in a blanket of trees above green fields dotted with sheep and meandering cows. On a clear morning, the sunrise paints the horizon in magnificent pink-orange hues, and on a not-so-clear morning the trees in the lower fields raise their heads above a sea of white-grey mist. The view is ever-changing yet consistent; no matter how much it is transformed by the light and the weather, it is always spectacular. Perhaps it was this dazzling view that blinded us to the challenges and sheer amount of wo
Sunday provided, what has become of late, a rare elongated period of dry weather. Much of the day was spent clearing the steep embankment by the brook. Despite the bite of the wind, jackets were discarded as the sun shone and the smoke from the incinerator permeated our clothes and hair. New shoots from the weeds are just beginning to peek through but so too are the shoots of plants yet to be revealed. Spring is an exciting time for any gardener but more so when you are about to discover what’s hidden beneath the bank of weeds. This and small glimpses of life from the bare trees and plants are a welcome enticement to say goodbye to what has otherwise been a long and difficult winter. We have been assured by our new friends that this season has been exceptionally wet and windy. By the time storm Dennis hit we thought we may have peaked. It felt rather apt that the storm was called Dennis. We once had a friend called Dennis, sadly he is no longer with us. He, like the stor
Nearly two weeks ago we faced the day that we hoped would never come; we had to make a decision that we knew was unequivocally right but felt heart wrenchingly wrong. On Wednesday 5th August 2020 we had to let our beautiful Jasper go. At this moment there is a gaping hole in our home and our hearts. We are grieving. French poet Anatole France said that, ‘until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened’. Over fourteen and a half years Jasper gave us companionship, unconditional love and comfort in abundance. We used to say he was as beautiful inside as he was outside (and by crikey he was handsome). Our beautiful gentle soul. Jasper was a Golden Retriever and all he ever needed from us was food and cuddles. Weighing almost six stone in his latter years, in his prime he was anywhere between seven and seven and a half stone. A big dog. His father’s official name was Digby and Jasper was his father’s son. His ‘golden’ fur was very pale and as a senior h
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