My favourite winter job in the garden is MULCHING. Just the word is delightful. Like squelching, but warmer and snugglier.
I am a ‘colour pop’ kind of a girl. But occasionally, with a light frost, I am forced to focus on the neutrals. With the aid of my new book all about colour, I can now distinguish my buff from my fawn!
Let’s celebrate those who dare to be different. Who let their madness shine through. Who receive a frosty reception but do it anyway.
The veins of leaves and the networks of bare branches remind us of our own connection with the Universe. We are all interlaced. We are all important.
A post about how the dark times we go through help us to appreciate the moments of lightness…
An experiment into whether I can bring a growth mindset to housework. I enjoy the movement and the sensory pleasures of ‘garden cleaning’. Could this be harnessed for house cleaning?
I remember finding the image of Miss Haversham rather thrilling. Her abandon of social convention. Her total neglect of housework. Her cunning.
We’ve had storms, frost, thugs and entanglements. Against the odds, we’re still singing!
Sometimes life is stormy and we get tossed around. Here is five minutes of calm to help you get through. Find your sunlight, and Shine On.
Sunlight is transformative. Petals and leaves become translucent and their network of veins are revealed. The fine down on stems and buds are illuminated. Sunlight is a transitory and elusive quality in the garden. Which is perhaps why it is so magical.
A post about fragility, being gentle, and holding on.
In this post, I’m reflecting on which plants are the real workhorses, keeping the show going into autumn. Which plants have been supping the elixir of eternal youth, and which are a little worse for wear.