Showing posts from November, 2021

Late November

 Hello m' ginger snaps,  It may look like I'm moving house, with all the boxes and tissue wrap...but I'm not! The local weather man warned us storm Arwen would bash the UK's South West coast, and it duly arrived on time on Friday night. This was my resulting Saturday morning 'to do' list - Re-oraganise chintzy bone china cups and saucers Go through wardrobe - dig out favourite 'Scandi Noir' jumpers (fill bags for the charity shop - a girl only needs so many winter jumpers) Look through the Alpine Garden Society's seed list - make a 'wish list' Drink lots of tea, using one of said chintzy cups, whilst trying to look moody in Scandi Noir jumper of the day. Below are cups and saucers from Royal Albert Bone China (1977) Provincial Flowers series.  They illustrate - Left:  'Mountain Avens' (Dryas Octopetala), arctic alpine flower Right:  'Lady's Slipper (Cyprpedium reginae), said to be the rarest orchid in Britain.  *I can report t

Seaweed, sand, cess pits and salty creatures

 Hello m' perky porpoises, What did the sea know of the land?  Through every crevice, every vein of man it had ran.  Stored in his bone marrow, out through his bowels,  down to the sewers and treatment plants. Who was listening, when the core was changing? Were the whales singing? L.B   It is around this time of year that I start to get excited about piles of seaweed. It has been a long Cornish tradition to barrel it up from the beach, following a favouring gale. Who knows what other useful items can be found for the garden: driftwood, unusual pebbles, shells, a random welly, netting, interesting rusty pots, fisherman floats if one is especially lucky. The seaweed I collect from above the shore line and spread it flat across my garden beds. I used to rinse it in rainwater first, but now I just leave it to the winter weather. By spring, it has shriveled up to almost nothing, and can be satisfyingly crunched up in the hand. I am a believer in feeding the soil, and seaweed is rich in


Today, Remembrance Sunday, the silver band played at the local church.  The garden was filled with music, followed by a two minute silence. Lulu x  More recent posts can be found here -

The great big bulb shuffle

 Hello m' foxtrots, Do come in, I've got t' kettle on and I'm raiding the biscuit bunker.... I wonder if those in the northern hemisphere are missing garden programs on TV? It is always a sad moment once I've watched the very last Gardeners World and Beechgrove Garden of the year on BBC iPlayer. Monsieur, on the contrary, does a celebratory dance. He feels like he has his TV back for wrestling, horror flicks and guitar shreds. Oh how I dream of a straight forward 'job for the weekend', such as simply planting bulbs in pre-prepared pots full of  fresh crumbly compost. My version of planting bulbs involves a big shuffle of many steps. 1) Make room in the greenhouse for the overwintered cannas:  Old pots are tidied away into the storage box (this hides behind the greenhouse).    Some plants come into the house, such as the ginger and the chilies.   On a side note - I am feeling pretty smug that my ginger tuber, brought from Wilkos for just a couple of pounds ba