The mother of invention

Today my mum turns 70.  But she won’t be treated to afternoon tea at Eastwell Manor, because she’s trekking in India.  Yes, trekking, with a backpack, and sleeping in a tent, and having bucket showers. That’s not to say she won’t get afternoon tea when she gets back, but she might have to squeeze it…

We’re on a break.

You meet.  Your eyes lock, you catch your breath a little as your heart skips a beat.  You look away, flustered.  You look back. Falling in love with a flower can be a heady experience.  And this is what happened with me and Helenium ‘Moerheim Beauty’.  I loved everything about it.  The frilly flamenco skirts…

Flow

When I am gardening I experience “flow”: the complete contented absorption in a task or activity, where I lose track of time.  There is no distraction by the minutiae of what to cook for dinner or whether I remembered to put the washing on.  There is no worry over the things that are going on…

Making the most of the morning commute

I get to drive all over Kent for my job.  Given that much of Kent is pretty stunning, this is no bad thing.  There are sweeping views over fields and chalk downs, winding worm-holes through woodland, coastal roads looking out over the sea, and misty, magical marshes, which used to be under the sea. The other…

Thanks, Gran.

My gran was a proper picture-book gran.  She put rollers in her hair at night and wore a pinny.  She wouldn’t go out without a hat, and had a brooch on her coat.  She had a shopping trolley.  She knew everyone who walked down her road, and would wave to them from the window.  She fetched…