Gardens, weeds & words. An odd name for a blog. But really, that’s just what it’s all about. I spend a good part of each day messing about with, staring at, or thinking about all three, so naming the blog after them seemed like an entirely sensible thing to do. At least you know what you’re in for.
Now you’re here, I’d love you to look about – have a read, and let me know what you think. It’s great if you feel moved to share a post, but I’ll be delighted if you leave me a comment. I always write back, unless you’re clearly a robot or an inveterate spammer.
In time there’ll be a resources section too, with downloadable goodies to help you in your garden. For now, I’m concentrating on making sure the wheels don’t fall off this swanky new website.
The blog is accessible from the navigation bar under the logo at the top of the page. Or, for more about gardens, weeds & words, read on...
As trailed in my previous post, I’ve decided to start a series on the blog using highlights from my Instagram gallery to chart the garden through the year. And so, without undue ceremony, let me welcome you to the first post in that series. This week, as we get ready to leave winter behind, I'm taking a look back at February 2017.
The demise of blogging is pronounced with such extreme regularity that the patient must long ago have entered the realms of the undead. But while reports of its death are greatly exaggerated, by far the most burdensome weight of accusation for hastening its end is laid at the door of other forms of social media, notably microblogging apps such as Twitter and Instagram.
As snowdrops grab the headlines after Christmas, the hellebores quietly assemble while the attention is focussed elsewhere. Frankly, I think a hellebore is much more fun than a snowdrop, though neither are as innocent as they might at first appear.
January can be a miserable month, so a few weeks of bright, dry weather make for a welcome start to the year. Refreshingly chilly conditions in which to while away the garden hours until the first flowers of spring appear.
I’m not big on new year’s resolutions. To my mind, every day brings with it an opportunity to do better – why wait till January to make them, and then spend the remainder of the year berating yourself for breaking them? With something seasonal, like gardening, however, it makes sense. But I’m still limiting myself to one.
The awfully nice people at Burgon & Ball have sent me some of their marvellous garden tools in exchange for a review here on the blog. Read on for my first impressions of these shiny wonders.
Light is in short supply this month, and so it makes sense to make the most of the little we have. For reasons of sanity, not to mention Vitamin D. It’s as good a time as any for garden photography, and the more familiar you are with the behaviour of the light, the better your images will be.
Autumn turns to winter, the leaves are all but tamed, and a short window of opportunity opens. While it’s still warm enough feel your fingers, there’s just time to clear the beds in preparation for a good, thick mulch. But what to do with all the stuff this produces – compost, or burn? It helps to have a plan.
There’s a lot of rot in the garden at this time of year, and that’s no bad thing. I visited Waterperry Gardens at the weekend, where the ghosts of this year’s herbaceous perennials are taking their final bow.
The garden might be closing down for the year, but there’s so much to see in autumn. Far fewer hours in which to see it, though, so best to be up and out with the first rays of light.