Here We Blow Again

Oh, the inconvenience; first Ciara, now Dennis, putting paid to any plans we had to tend our allotment or work in the garden this weekend. We could have braved the elements, but it would have been no fun at all and terrible for the earth. Nothing for it other than to stay indoors and wait for calmer conditions. Could February’s weather be any more inconsiderate? Must it only be windy on Saturdays and Sundays? How long will it be before Storm Ellen whistles down our chimneys, saturates our soil and rocks our roses?

Don’t misunderstand me, I have dozens of pressing indoor jobs that need doing, but I am looking for any excuse not to do them. I’ve ordered seeds and summer bulbs (both have arrived and are awaiting planting time) and I’ve tidied the workshop; I’ve even read a few books, but what I really want to do is go outside and get my hands dirty.

Each winter the number of plants in the garden room increases. They seem happy grouped closely together.

On wet, wild weekends like these I have to entertain myself by tending to our houseplants. Since moving to The Watch House permanently almost three years ago their number has burgeoned. There must be over one hundred and fifty now, scattered over windowsills, shelves and floors across four storeys. They range from ferns to cacti and include several large specimens that came from Cornwall with The Beau last summer. Two new plants joined their ranks this weekend – Euphorbia trigona ‘Rubra’, the African milk tree, a Valentine’s gift from The Beau, and Aporocactus flagelliformis ‘Melanie’, the rat tail cactus, an indulgent gift to myself.

Indoors is our final frontier. The last piece of real estate that’s not already packed to the gunwales with plants. Good news is that there’s room for a few more.

The bathroom on the first floor is both light and warm. Hanging from the ceiling is my new rat tail cactus, Aporocactus flagelliformis ‘Melanie’.

At least once a fortnight I like to go around the house checking my houseplants for dead leaves, mould, pests and diseases. It’s easy to forget about them in the winter months, especially when it’s dark when one goes to work and comes home at night. In a centrally-heated house, pests such as scale insect, whitefly, greenfly and red spider mite can get out of hand incredibly quickly, so it’s worth keeping an eye out for tell-tale signs of trouble. In most cases pests can be wiped off with a damp cloth rather than using nasty chemicals. Plants that prefer a humid atmosphere – ferns, bromeliads and aroids – require regular misting to prevent them from dehydrating. Standing pots on trays of gravel also helps.

Plants that prefer humidity, such as Tillandsia usneoides (Spanish moss), will appreciate the mist created by a hot shower. Underfloor heating reminds Cyperus papyrus (Egyptian papyrus) of its home on the banks of the Nile.

I find the main cause of house plants looking sickly at this time of year is simply lack of light. When days are short and sunless, even those that would normally curl up and die on a bright windowsill need considerably more light to stay healthy. I know the feeling! I will start feeding towards the end of March to give them a boost before summer.

Draughts are the other winter menace, imperceptible at armchair level, but if I sit on the library floor or on the stairs I can feel them extending their icy sinews around the house. Plants such as calathea detest drafts and will quickly develop crisp-edged leaves unless moved out of harm’s way.

Dieffenbachia ‘Reflector’ is an excellent plant for this cool, west-facing bedroom populated by an army of plush toys. It requires minimal attention and always looks fabulous.

As with outdoor plants, I learn what works indoors through trial and error. Plants are easily moved if they start to look unhappy. I steer clear of most flowering plants, apart from the odd abutilon, streptocarpus or orchid, as these tend to be a lot more demanding than foliage plants. (Primulas are my nemesis – I love them, but they always die within days of coming indoors.)

A tall mirror helps to reflect light within another spare bedroom.

The Beau is in charge of watering. During the winter this is a once-a-week, hour-long task, except the garden room where a weekend refresh is appreciated by some of the pot-bound residents. Airplants are misted daily if we remember and succulents are kept on the dry side. As a rule under-watering is far easier to remedy than over-watering: during the winter a soggy potful can take an age to dry out, by which time the poor plant may have started to rot. We keep our spare bedrooms cool but not cold so that plants are not encouraged to grow too quickly towards the light and become ‘drawn’.

We try hard to harvest enough rainwater to keep lime-sensitive plants such as tillandsia and stag’s horn fern healthy: they detest our chalky tap water here in Thanet. If Dennis lives up to his reputation the washing-up bowls we put outside to catch the rain will be full by morning. As I write the wind is building and the woodburner is drawing beautifully. The dogs are prostrated before it, glad to be home after a wet walk. Time to down tools and pour myself a gin and tonic. I recommend you do the same. TFG.

Sparmannia africana ‘Flore Pleno’ is a beautiful, large-leaved house plant which can be placed outside during the summer months.

Here Comes Ciara! – How To Protect Your Garden From Stormy Weather

Winter thus far has consisted of a handful of slightly chilly nights with a lot of benign, mild, wet weather in between. The garden is bursting with signs of spring, some of which I have captured to illustrate this post. Rosa banksiae ‘Lutea’ is already blooming, at least 2 months earlier than usual. Legions of tulips are emerging from the ground and we are enjoying generous pots of bright blue Iris reticulata and shocking-pink Cyclamen coum.

Here at The Watch House we haven’t suffered any frost, despite cars on the street outside being smothered in rime on several occasions. The walls, trees and buildings that surround the house create a unique and favourable microclimate. Right now, only the most cold-sensitive plants are showing any sign of distress, but there’s a threat equal to frost on the way across the Atlantic – a storm named Ciara.

Batten down the hatches, Ciara’s coming!

Needless to say, the media are beside themselves with glee at the prospect of major travel disruption, danger to life, widespread power cuts and coastal flooding. A violent storm is a gift for journalists because they can feel gratified if the forecast is correct and blame the Met Office if their predictions don’t come to pass. And we all recall what understatement did for Michael Fish’s reputation in 1987 ….

The Great Storm of 1987 caused substantial damage over much of England, felling an estimated 15 million trees.

Before Storm Ciara makes landfall, here are some sensible precautions that all gardeners can take when strong winds are predicted.

1. Batten Down the Hatches

Ensure anything loose or moveable is weighted down or brought inside. Serious damage can be caused by objects that were not designed to fly through the air, including garden tools, hose reels, dustbins, play equipment and garden furniture. Put vulnerable items in a shed or garage if you can, otherwise move them to a sheltered spot. Barbecue and furniture covers can be ripped off and deposited some distance away, so secure these with bungee cords or remove them temporarily. Trampolines can cause significant disruption if blown onto roads or railway lines.

A wayward trampoline blocking the main London line at Bickley, Kent

Similarly, cloches, fleece and other forms of winter plant protection can be torn from the plants they were there to protect, so pin or tie these down as best you can.

Make sure larger pots are well watered and moved away from windows. Smaller pots and delicate plants should be relocated to a place of shelter.

High winds can topple pots of any size, so bunch these together and ensure they are well-watered before the storm hits. Move anything that might topple away from glass windows and doors, including greenhouses and conservatories. Window boxes and hanging baskets should be removed and placed on the ground where they cannot fall on anyone. If in doubt, move it: the aggravation and distress caused by broken glass or smashed terracotta is not worth the gamble.

If you have a pond, cover it with netting or chicken wire to prevent detritus from blowing in. During the winter months organic material does not break down as fast as in summer, resulting in a build up of toxic ammonia and making the pond water too acidic. Heavy rain will go some way to diluting any toxins, but the problem is best avoided in the first place.

Rosa banksiae ‘Lutea’ is flowering now, but this rambler is no great lover of strong winds or cold weather. The whole plant could be stripped of leaves by Storm Ciara

2. Make Good and Mend

Check your shed roof for for missing felt and patch up where possible. If your garden fence has any loose panels, secure these immediately with screws or nails: there’s nothing worse than having a whole border annihilated by 6ft square of treated softwood. Make sure shed doors and greenhouse windows are firmly closed.

The tree on the left, Lyonothamnus floribundus subsp. aspleniifolius, was sadly toppled by a gale last March. This is one of the hazards of gardening by the coast.
(photograph: Marianne Majerus)

3. Keep Thin and Flexible

It has been a long time since these two words were applied to my good self, but they are wise to observe when it comes to one’s garden. During the winter months many trees have open canopies where foliage has fallen. Evergreens are most susceptible to winter storm damage, so thin crowns if at all possible and remove any branches that are touching property – when flailing about in a storm they can easily break glass, rip off a gutter or crush a car. Shrubs and trees in exposed locations should be staked temporarily using ties which have a degree of flexibility. Don’t secure a trunk so firmly that it cannot bend slightly in the wind – there is a possibility it will simply snap.

If you have not pruned roses, buddleja, abutilons or lavateras yet, do so tomorrow. Wind rock can be extremely damaging to these plants as well as any trees and shrubs you’ve planted in the last few months. The less material above ground the safer these plants will be.

Geranium maderense prefers shelter, but is more tolerant of wind than of cold.

4. Safety First

Last but not least, once Ciara or any other storm has set in, do not attempt to rescue a situation unless it is 100% safe to do so. Your neighbours may not be as diligent as you, meaning airborne debris could come at you from any angle, including above. On more than one occasion I have chosen to attempt saving a precious tree from falling and can attest to the invincible force of strong wind hitting a dense canopy. Unless you are Giant Haystacks it’s not worth taking the risk.

If you are determined to venture out this Sunday or Monday, keep in mind that many gardens, parks and arboreta usually open to the public will remain closed if there is danger of injury through falling trees or branches. My advice is to stay indoors, snuggle up on the sofa and enjoy a good book or blockbuster film until Ciara has blown herself out. TFG.

The emerging shoots of Dracunculus vulgaris, the dragon arum, should be fairly safe in a storm, provided nothing falls on them.

Here Comes Ciara! – How To Protect Your Garden From Stormy Weather

Winter thus far has consisted of a handful of slightly chilly nights with a lot of benign, mild, wet weather in between. The garden is bursting with signs of spring, some of which I have captured to illustrate this post. Rosa banksiae ‘Lutea’ is already blooming, at least 2 months earlier than usual. Legions of tulips are emerging from the ground and we are enjoying generous pots of bright blue Iris reticulata and shocking-pink Cyclamen coum.

Here at The Watch House we haven’t suffered any frost, despite cars on the street outside being smothered in rime on several occasions. The walls, trees and buildings that surround the house create a unique and favourable microclimate. Right now, only the most cold-sensitive plants are showing any sign of distress, but there’s a threat equal to frost on the way across the Atlantic – a storm named Ciara.

Batten down the hatches, Ciara’s coming!

Needless to say, the media are beside themselves with glee at the prospect of major travel disruption, danger to life, widespread power cuts and coastal flooding. A violent storm is a gift for journalists because they can feel gratified if the forecast is correct and blame the Met Office if their predictions don’t come to pass. And we all recall what understatement did for Michael Fish’s reputation in 1987 ….

The Great Storm of 1987 caused substantial damage over much of England, felling an estimated 15 million trees.

Before Storm Ciara makes landfall, here are some sensible precautions that all gardeners can take when strong winds are predicted.

1. Batten Down the Hatches

Ensure anything loose or moveable is weighted down or brought inside. Serious damage can be caused by objects that were not designed to fly through the air, including garden tools, hose reels, dustbins, play equipment and garden furniture. Put vulnerable items in a shed or garage if you can, otherwise move them to a sheltered spot. Barbecue and furniture covers can be ripped off and deposited some distance away, so secure these with bungee cords or remove them temporarily. Trampolines can cause significant disruption if blown onto roads or railway lines.

A wayward trampoline blocking the main London line at Bickley, Kent

Similarly, cloches, fleece and other forms of winter plant protection can be torn from the plants they were there to protect, so pin or tie these down as best you can.

Make sure larger pots are well watered and moved away from windows. Smaller pots and delicate plants should be relocated to a place of shelter.

High winds can topple pots of any size, so bunch these together and ensure they are well-watered before the storm hits. Move anything that might topple away from glass windows and doors, including greenhouses and conservatories. Window boxes and hanging baskets should be removed and placed on the ground where they cannot fall on anyone. If in doubt, move it: the aggravation and distress caused by broken glass or smashed terracotta is not worth the gamble.

If you have a pond, cover it with netting or chicken wire to prevent detritus from blowing in. During the winter months organic material does not break down as fast as in summer, resulting in a build up of toxic ammonia and making the pond water too acidic. Heavy rain will go some way to diluting any toxins, but the problem is best avoided in the first place.

Rosa banksiae ‘Lutea’ is flowering now, but this rambler is no great lover of strong winds or cold weather. The whole plant could be stripped of leaves by Storm Ciara

2. Make Good and Mend

Check your shed roof for for missing felt and patch up where possible. If your garden fence has any loose panels, secure these immediately with screws or nails: there’s nothing worse than having a whole border annihilated by 6ft square of treated softwood. Make sure shed doors and greenhouse windows are firmly closed.

The tree on the left, Lyonothamnus floribundus subsp. aspleniifolius, was sadly toppled by a gale last March. This is one of the hazards of gardening by the coast.
(photograph: Marianne Majerus)

3. Keep Thin and Flexible

It has been a long time since these two words were applied to my good self, but they are wise to observe when it comes to one’s garden. During the winter months many trees have open canopies where foliage has fallen. Evergreens are most susceptible to winter storm damage, so thin crowns if at all possible and remove any branches that are touching property – when flailing about in a storm they can easily break glass, rip off a gutter or crush a car. Shrubs and trees in exposed locations should be staked temporarily using ties which have a degree of flexibility. Don’t secure a trunk so firmly that it cannot bend slightly in the wind – there is a possibility it will simply snap.

If you have not pruned roses, buddleja, abutilons or lavateras yet, do so tomorrow. Wind rock can be extremely damaging to these plants as well as any trees and shrubs you’ve planted in the last few months. The less material above ground the safer these plants will be.

Geranium maderense prefers shelter, but is more tolerant of wind than of cold.

4. Safety First

Last but not least, once Ciara or any other storm has set in, do not attempt to rescue a situation unless it is 100% safe to do so. Your neighbours may not be as diligent as you, meaning airborne debris could come at you from any angle, including above. On more than one occasion I have chosen to attempt saving a precious tree from falling and can attest to the invincible force of strong wind hitting a dense canopy. Unless you are Giant Haystacks it’s not worth taking the risk.

If you are determined to venture out this Sunday or Monday, keep in mind that many gardens, parks and arboreta usually open to the public will remain closed if there is danger of injury through falling trees or branches. My advice is to stay indoors, snuggle up on the sofa and enjoy a good book or blockbuster film until Ciara has blown herself out. TFG.

The emerging shoots of Dracunculus vulgaris, the dragon arum, should be fairly safe in a storm, provided nothing falls on them.

Seedy Thoughts

There’s not much that January is good for, apart from cosying-up by the fire, drinking the Christmas drinks cabinet dry and browsing seed catalogues. The minute New Year is over, hot off the press, brochures start to arrive at The Watch House by the sack-load. And since we’ve acquired an allotment, the fruit and vegetable sections no longer find themselves in the recycling bin. Instead they join a growing pile by the side of the sofa, covered in inky ticks, spiky stars and wobbly question marks.

Unusually for us, we are showing restraint (or rather The Beau is). We are taking our time over the vegetables and not making purchasing decisions quite yet. However I am both a shopaholic and a sucker for a discount, hence I decided to buy a few packets of flower seeds whilst Sarah Raven was offering 15% off. Whilst neither the cheapest nor the most comprehensive source of seed, Ms Raven’s catalogue does have a certain allure. For anyone lacking confidence in how to combine flowers, the colour-by-colour layout and Jonathan Buckley’s sumptuous photography is a godsend. Plus I am happily persuaded by the effusive descriptions she gives when pointing out her favourites: If one is going to sell things, one may as well do it with enthusiasm.

The prospect of growing traditional, sun-loving annuals brings me full circle back to my youth. My parents’ garden was always awash with the petunias, antirrhinums, cosmos, nicotianas, poppies and dahlias that I had grown from seed in greedy numbers. Annuals are full of vigour and youthful joy. Whatever anyone says, I adore them because they are the plants that got me hooked on gardening.

Since leaving home I have gardened in part or full shade. Less than ideal lighting conditions, combined with a lack of space, have meant that the cultivation of my beloved annuals has been restricted to the odd window box or planter. Now that we have an allotment I can’t help feeling that the world is again my oyster. Although we are only permitted to grow non-edible plants on 25% of the plot, I have already devised cunning ways to get around this. By going upwards we can squeeze more in, and I’ll be growing flowers that can be eaten – there are a surprising number when you start to search for them – or those that produce edible seed.

You will not be surprised that I have opted for my favourite palette of orange, ruby, plum and purple, with the odd dash of magenta and peach here and there. It’s predictable, but the colours will work well with ripening fruit and vegetables, especially as we approach late summer when the corn is ripe and tomatoes hang from the vine like grapes. Here’s The Damage:

• Dolichos lablab ‘Ruby Moon’ – I’ve wanted to grow hyacinth beans for yonks. This beautiful climber will be trained up a large pole, perhaps mingling with Mina lobata (Spanish flag) to create a sizzling spire of flowers and foliage.
• Persicaria orientalis – also known as kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate, or prince’s feathers. This is a majestic annual which will be more than welcome to strut its stuff between the rows of veg.
• Papaver somniferum ‘Black Single’ – a poignant reminder of home. When we first cultivated our family garden near Bath, mauve opium poppies sprang up everywhere. This is a dark, sultry version of that same poppy.
• Squash ‘Tromboncino’ – is it vegetable or an ornamental? Who cares? Tromboncini can be eaten young like a courgette or matured to form phallic marrows. Guaranteed to get folk on the allotment talking.
• Tropaeolum minus ‘Ladybird Rose’ – not the best reviews as far as germination is concerned, but I love the ‘Belle Epoque’, dusky-peach tones of the flowers.
• Tropaeolum minus ‘Black Velvet’ – Ms Raven suggests using the flowers in salads and the leaves in smoked haddock fish cakes. Yes please!
• Helianthus annuus ‘Magic Roundabout F1‘ – The Beau and I had arguments about which sunflowers to buy. This one made the list because it’s tall and floriferous.
• Helianthus annuus ‘Double Dandy’ – not so double that it will deter bees, with petals the colour of blackberries and demerara sugar. Delicious.
• Helianthus annuus ‘Claret F1’ – dark, wine-red flowers to compliment ‘Double Dandy’. A classic sunflower minus the yellow.
• Calendula officinalis ‘Sunset Buff’ – one cannot have a kitchen garden without calendulas, so these are, frankly, compulsory.
• Amaranthus tricolor ‘Red Army’ – according to Jekka McVicar, the young leaves can be used in salads or steamed when mature and the seeds can be used to make flat breads. Both use and ornament.
• Antirrhinum ‘Bizarre Hybrids’ – Edible, yes, but not delicious. I’ll be enjoying these oddly striped and splashed blooms for their quirkiness, not their culinary qualities.

Wishing you all a most excellent weekend. I’m off to quaff the last of the Cinzano. TFG.

Seedy Thoughts

There’s not much that January is good for, apart from cosying-up by the fire, drinking the Christmas drinks cabinet dry and browsing seed catalogues. The minute New Year is over, hot off the press, brochures start to arrive at The Watch House by the sack-load. And since we’ve acquired an allotment, the fruit and vegetable sections no longer find themselves in the recycling bin. Instead they join a growing pile by the side of the sofa, covered in inky ticks, spiky stars and wobbly question marks.

Unusually for us, we are showing restraint (or rather The Beau is). We are taking our time over the vegetables and not making purchasing decisions quite yet. However I am both a shopaholic and a sucker for a discount, hence I decided to buy a few packets of flower seeds whilst Sarah Raven was offering 15% off. Whilst neither the cheapest nor the most comprehensive source of seed, Ms Raven’s catalogue does have a certain allure. For anyone lacking confidence in how to combine flowers, the colour-by-colour layout and Jonathan Buckley’s sumptuous photography is a godsend. Plus I am happily persuaded by the effusive descriptions she gives when pointing out her favourites: If one is going to sell things, one may as well do it with enthusiasm.

The prospect of growing traditional, sun-loving annuals brings me full circle back to my youth. My parents’ garden was always awash with the petunias, antirrhinums, cosmos, nicotianas, poppies and dahlias that I had grown from seed in greedy numbers. Annuals are full of vigour and youthful joy. Whatever anyone says, I adore them because they are the plants that got me hooked on gardening.

Since leaving home I have gardened in part or full shade. Less than ideal lighting conditions, combined with a lack of space, have meant that the cultivation of my beloved annuals has been restricted to the odd window box or planter. Now that we have an allotment I can’t help feeling that the world is again my oyster. Although we are only permitted to grow non-edible plants on 25% of the plot, I have already devised cunning ways to get around this. By going upwards we can squeeze more in, and I’ll be growing flowers that can be eaten – there are a surprising number when you start to search for them – or those that produce edible seed.

You will not be surprised that I have opted for my favourite palette of orange, ruby, plum and purple, with the odd dash of magenta and peach here and there. It’s predictable, but the colours will work well with ripening fruit and vegetables, especially as we approach late summer when the corn is ripe and tomatoes hang from the vine like grapes. Here’s The Damage:

• Dolichos lablab ‘Ruby Moon’ – I’ve wanted to grow hyacinth beans for yonks. This beautiful climber will be trained up a large pole, perhaps mingling with Mina lobata (Spanish flag) to create a sizzling spire of flowers and foliage.
• Persicaria orientalis – also known as kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate, or prince’s feathers. This is a majestic annual which will be more than welcome to strut its stuff between the rows of veg.
• Papaver somniferum ‘Black Single’ – a poignant reminder of home. When we first cultivated our family garden near Bath, mauve opium poppies sprang up everywhere. This is a dark, sultry version of that same poppy.
• Squash ‘Tromboncino’ – is it vegetable or an ornamental? Who cares? Tromboncini can be eaten young like a courgette or matured to form phallic marrows. Guaranteed to get folk on the allotment talking.
• Tropaeolum minus ‘Ladybird Rose’ – not the best reviews as far as germination is concerned, but I love the ‘Belle Epoque’, dusky-peach tones of the flowers.
• Tropaeolum minus ‘Black Velvet’ – Ms Raven suggests using the flowers in salads and the leaves in smoked haddock fish cakes. Yes please!
• Helianthus annuus ‘Magic Roundabout F1‘ – The Beau and I had arguments about which sunflowers to buy. This one made the list because it’s tall and floriferous.
• Helianthus annuus ‘Double Dandy’ – not so double that it will deter bees, with petals the colour of blackberries and demerara sugar. Delicious.
• Helianthus annuus ‘Claret F1’ – dark, wine-red flowers to compliment ‘Double Dandy’. A classic sunflower minus the yellow.
• Calendula officinalis ‘Sunset Buff’ – one cannot have a kitchen garden without calendulas, so these are, frankly, compulsory.
• Amaranthus tricolor ‘Red Army’ – according to Jekka McVicar, the young leaves can be used in salads or steamed when mature and the seeds can be used to make flat breads. Both use and ornament.
• Antirrhinum ‘Bizarre Hybrids’ – Edible, yes, but not delicious. I’ll be enjoying these oddly striped and splashed blooms for their quirkiness, not their culinary qualities.

Wishing you all a most excellent weekend. I’m off to quaff the last of the Cinzano. TFG.

Seeing in the New Year

And so, here we are, on the eve of a new decade; Farewell 2010s, All Hail the 2020s! With the world as it is, there seems relatively little to look forward to on a macro scale, so I am choosing to focus on things that are within my gift to influence; my relationships, work/life balance, carbon footprint and, of course, my garden. I have learned over the years that time spent fretting is time wasted, so I prefer to just get on and ‘do’ whenever possible. What 2019 has taught me most of all is that situations can change unexpectedly, and not always for the better. I have always lived by the adage ‘Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today’, but the profundity of this statement sits at the forefront of my mind as we approach the New Year.

Me and John (aka The Beau)

2019 has been a year of big changes for me, with The Beau and his two pups, Max and Millie, coming to join me in Broadstairs at the end of June. Prior to that there was much travelling back and forth between Broadstairs and Penzance. Fun as that was, it was not sustainable in the long term. For the last six months we have been one happy family, getting used to our new living and working arrangements, making new friends in the process. I miss my regular visits to Cornwall, which presented opportunities for seeing family and friends, as well as copious plant shopping. If all goes to plan we’ll be back there for a few weekends in the spring, when Cornish gardens are at their most wondrous.

Sinocalycanthus raulstonii ‘Hartlage Wine’

The merging of two plant collections made for a very abundant summer in the garden, prompting me to consider whether we need to make some changes for next year. A little more room to manoeuvre would be nice. A record number of visitors – 440 to be precise – visited The Watch House in early August, raising over £2000 for the National Gardens Scheme. An appearance on BBC Gardeners’ World in March really helped to pique people’s interest: if you missed it, here’s a link. The segment begins about 7 minutes and 30 seconds in to the programme.

With space at a premium outside, we have turned our attention to indoors, embracing the recent house plant craze. The knock-on effect is that there is not as much room as usual to overwinter tender plants. I am not moving out, so a little slimming down of the plant collection might be needed next year.

The Gin & Tonic Garden on New Year’s Eve 2019

Having struggled to make time for blogging in the latter part of 2019, I am determined to get back to writing regular posts in January. This blog has always been about discovery for me, providing the impetus to learn about new plants and unfamiliar gardens. In turn this has prompted me to look at things differently; to be more inquisitive and thoughtful about what’s in front of my eyes. Hence ‘seeing in the New Year’ has an alternative meaning for me, and I am resolute about doing more of it.

The Jungle Garden on Christmas Day 2019

Wherever you are in the world, and however 2019 has treated you, I wish you all the very best for 2020 and the new decade. May it be everything you hope for and more. TFG.

Viking Bay, Broadstairs, Christmas Day 2019

Seeing in the New Year

And so, here we are, on the eve of a new decade; Farewell 2010s, All Hail the 2020s! With the world as it is, there seems relatively little to look forward to on a macro scale, so I am choosing to focus on things that are within my gift to influence; my relationships, work/life balance, carbon footprint and, of course, my garden. I have learned over the years that time spent fretting is time wasted, so I prefer to just get on and ‘do’ whenever possible. What 2019 has taught me most of all is that situations can change unexpectedly, and not always for the better. I have always lived by the adage ‘Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today’, but the profundity of this statement sits at the forefront of my mind as we approach the New Year.

Me and John (aka The Beau)

2019 has been a year of big changes for me, with The Beau and his two pups, Max and Millie, coming to join me in Broadstairs at the end of June. Prior to that there was much travelling back and forth between Broadstairs and Penzance. Fun as that was, it was not sustainable in the long term. For the last six months we have been one happy family, getting used to our new living and working arrangements, making new friends in the process. I miss my regular visits to Cornwall, which presented opportunities for seeing family and friends, as well as copious plant shopping. If all goes to plan we’ll be back there for a few weekends in the spring, when Cornish gardens are at their most wondrous.

Sinocalycanthus raulstonii ‘Hartlage Wine’

The merging of two plant collections made for a very abundant summer in the garden, prompting me to consider whether we need to make some changes for next year. A little more room to manoeuvre would be nice. A record number of visitors – 440 to be precise – visited The Watch House in early August, raising over £2000 for the National Gardens Scheme. An appearance on BBC Gardeners’ World in March really helped to pique people’s interest: if you missed it, here’s a link. The segment begins about 7 minutes and 30 seconds in to the programme.

With space at a premium outside, we have turned our attention to indoors, embracing the recent house plant craze. The knock-on effect is that there is not as much room as usual to overwinter tender plants. I am not moving out, so a little slimming down of the plant collection might be needed next year.

The Gin & Tonic Garden on New Year’s Eve 2019

Having struggled to make time for blogging in the latter part of 2019, I am determined to get back to writing regular posts in January. This blog has always been about discovery for me, providing the impetus to learn about new plants and unfamiliar gardens. In turn this has prompted me to look at things differently; to be more inquisitive and thoughtful about what’s in front of my eyes. Hence ‘seeing in the New Year’ has an alternative meaning for me, and I am resolute about doing more of it.

The Jungle Garden on Christmas Day 2019

Wherever you are in the world, and however 2019 has treated you, I wish you all the very best for 2020 and the new decade. May it be everything you hope for and more. TFG.

Viking Bay, Broadstairs, Christmas Day 2019