I am growing a dozen or so Baby Blue Eyes, nemophila Menzii - a pretty blue annual in an unusual shade.
In a park in Japan 4.5 million are planted! Can you imagine taking a walk here? Mind-blowingly beautiful.
I may sow a few more next year.
..since I wrote my first blog post! (I managed to miss the anniversary on 23rd March...)
I am growing a dozen or so Baby Blue Eyes, nemophila Menzii - a pretty blue annual in an unusual shade. In a park in Japan 4.5 million are planted! Can you imagine taking a walk here? Mind-blowingly beautiful. I may sow a few more next year.
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![]() Remember this? Have a lovely Easter weekend. The blossom of flowering currant is white if you pick it in bud and bring it indoors. So pretty. Decision : no more broken tools, holey gardening gloves, handleless trugs... ..but my word for 2016 has taken on a new bittersweet meaning. I am having to think afresh about things I never imagined.... What was your word again? For me, such good therapy. But also a big challenge to garden without my skilled, patient and very hard working co-gardener Barry. I can see there will be some simplifying to be done... I am falling back on a routine that my daughter and I devised when we gardened together professionally. Each day we would tackle - 1 An ongoing job (progress) 2 A start-and-finish job (satisfaction) 3 A job we wanted to do (pleasure) 4 A rescue job ( a clear conscience!) The current big ongoing job is to clear moss from the beds. A wet summer followed by a wet winter has meant that the moss has taken over in places. People suggest making a moss garden but conditions in some summers can be very dry and kill it off or turn it a nauseous yellow..it just doesn't work here. My start-and-finish job was to straighten the edges of these beds - robbing Peter to pay Paul - the moved turfs have to be kept watered until they take. You can see the difference where we've removed surface moss! The job I did for the sheer pleasure of it was to sow more seed - cornflowers to transplant into the meadow, nasturtiums for the tubs in the village, gypsophila Covent Garden to go with the sweet peas already germinated, nemophila Menzii which have overwintered in the greenhouse for some early flowers - a most beautiful blue - and more....I love this job (and it's easy on the shoulders which were aching by then). My rescue job today was to plant these roses which I bought on 14 February. They are Burgundy Ice. £20.95 each from Sarah Raven or 3 for £11.95 from Parkers! I am growing them in the cutting patch So, a feeling of making progress, the satisfaction of finishing something, the pleasure of one of my favourite tasks and a clear conscience about those neglected roses. Maybe this format would suit work other than than gardening? Do you think it might apply to something you do? When things get too much I find it helps to clear a space... (All the stuff which was here has just been moved to another surface, but it helped no end just the same to have one clear space.) Fritillaria meleagris, or snake's head lily has an amazing chequered pattern. Thank you Elisabeth. Things that made me smile today - The weather forecast. Sunny all day and ten degrees...double figures. Wow! A red squirrel bouncing across the garden trying to find her buried treasure. My washing up bowl The yellow daffodils by the yellow door Primula Gold Lace in its weathered old pot. And my new friend. Have you ever had a robin sit close to you and sing a very quiet little throaty song, almost like a whisper, hardly opening her bill? Very sweet. I hope you are having more smiles than tears today too. ..or what! Thank you Karen and Lynne for this link. Here is what I read that made me feel that this was right for me, right now - When the dream that was no longer can be..you have to dream a different dream. Today we would have been travelling back from our month in Venice. Instead I am planning to take his ashes there. Some day. It was fun reading about your favourite smells.
Are there any smells you hate? I hate the smell of fusty old books - I've had to walk out of second hand bookstores at times. I'm not overly fond of wet dog either. Or bad drains, or chamomile. Those little seedlings... needed some tender loving care. I find if they get a bit spindly they benefit from being tucked in up to their necks in fresh compost and given a bit of space ..and a bit of protection from the cold till they have recovered from the shock of being moved. The seedlings are night-scented stocks, usually sown direct outside but I wanted some early ones. Barry had read that the sense of smell is the last sense to go when you are dying and we had a conversation about favourite smells. Here is his list - frangipani jasmine sweet peas night-scented stock burning-motorcycle-engine-oil-Castrol-GTX-2-stroke It reminded him of his youth riding motorcycles out in the bush with his friends. What would your list be? So far, three ways - Move furniture. Garden. Play Mozart very very loud. For no particular reason I moved Barry's desk into the sitting room. I fear I am being credited with courage I don't have. I move furniture (why?), I garden when the sun shines, I play the Mozart piano sonatas and all is well, until suddenly I find myself overcome by a tsunami wave of sadness and tears against which I am totally helpless.
I suppose we all grieve in our own inexplicable ways. ....the way one can swing from sorrow to joy, and from joy to sorrow. They even seem to co-exist if it is possible to feel two strong emotions at the one time. I had to shut the door, close the computer, put on the answerphone, ignore the mail for a few days and close the comments on the blog. Even love and kindness can overwhelm. I was and am so, so tired. Floored is the word that comes to mind. The last evening I came home from the hospice I sowed some seeds. Here they are... ..fragile, a bit wobbly, leaning towards the light. Like me. It's always bleak at the beginning, grief. Those words are from a programme (here) which a dear friend sent me to comfort me. We had gloriosa lilies and protea among Barry's funeral flowers, for Africa, where he was born and grew up. On the coffin were glorious sunflowers. When Barry was in hospital and saying his goodbyes and we all got a bit weepy, he remarked What's all this sorrow? Where's the joy? So we gave him joyous sunflowers. Lots of them. And a beautiful service with his favourite poetry and music. |
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March 2025
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