Chelsea Flower Show 2019

I always cry at Chelsea. Of course, I pretend I’ve got something in my eye, or that the hay fever season has come a little early, but each year I shed a tear or two. Or three or four. I’ve already started and we haven’t even got to the awards yet; that’ll be the next time to reach for the hankie, bright and early at 7am tomorrow morning.

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February in the Garden

The garden has been both the bane and the medicine of my life this month. I had one of the most stressful weeks I can remember, although admittedly, it does sound a bit ridiculous writing it down. It was over a vegetable garden that I felt this immense stress. We’d asked someone to come in and build the garden for us, and he neither built what we asked for, nor would listen to anything I said and all in all was a thoroughly unpleasant man. When this happens in your garden, and you’re me, it feels a little as though your heart has been ripped out. And we are now left with a half-finished, totally off-brief and out of character vegetable garden, a lot less money in the bank and a whole host of decisions to be made. 

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A New Year…

I vividly remember, this time last year, walking over the little stone bridge across the stream in our new garden, upon our return from the Falklands. I remember just standing there, looking, and then my eyes welling up and a couple of tears rolling down my face. It seemed I had got over having to leave the penguins behind; these were tears of overwhelming, happy wonderment.

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The Falklands

It would be fair to say that I wasn’t overly excited about our pending trip to the Falkland Islands. Paul has these silly ideas every so often and usually if I lie low they seem to disappear. But having played the ‘maybe’, ‘we’ll see’, ‘we can have a think about it’ card for more than six months, I decided I’d better just go along with it. Continue reading

Happy Christmas!

Well, after almost two years away from Australia, I managed to time my very first trip back, in early December, to exactly coincide with the heaviest snowfall our village had seen in a decade. I was sad to miss the snow, but very much cheered up when photos of our very white garden kept popping up on my phone. Our lovely cleaner, next door neighbour and neighbouring farmer all kindly thought of me missing this moment and without being asked, popped over to capture our snowy garden for us. How grateful it made me feel to have such a thoughtful community around us in our new home. Continue reading