The season of brown paper and sticky tape
Monday 13 September
-
A day of waiting. I have a pile of cut up pieces of packing paper. I have postcards. Book wraps. Address labels. I even have a stamp with a chocolate brown ink pad. I know. I have never ever been this prepared for anything in my entire life. I am slightly unnerved by how much preparation I have put into this week. All I haven’t got are the books.
Tuesday 14 September
-
As if to take my mind off it all, Matt Austin comes to capture the late summer glory. The dulling greens, the blackberries and the richness of the dahlias. Hands in soil. Landscapes. The full film is now up on the Gather website, but I wanted to share a few of my favourite bits. However, I couldn’t decide on my favourite bits so here is a clip and some stills.
And you know what? Just as I sit down to enjoy some incredible people talking about the British flowers growing industry at the Garden Museum, a courier van arrives with the first of 24 huge boxes of actual, real-life books.
Wednesday & Thursday
-
I pack books. I lose track of time. And when I think I can’t pack any more books, I do. If you have ordered a copy, I cannot thank you enough. I do so hope you love it.
Friday 17 September
-
A day in work. As I drive home, I see a big moon hanging in the evening sky. Not a full moon, but so visible, even in the blue sky. (The Harvest moon is not until 21 September.) More tomatoes for supper. A big rainbow over the back field for the evening walk.
Saturday 18 September
-
A rare trip out of the county, all the way up the motorway to the Cotswolds. To Daylesford. I was hoping to be wearing tweed and one of my (many) new woollen jumpers. It was, however, blisteringly hot. I took the truck and the girls (it broke my actual heart to leave Hugo at home but he does not play well with others). It was a glorious day, with marquees and bunting and the popping of corks everywhere we looked. The wonderful Claire of Honeysuckle and Hilda was there, whom I adore, despite her being the ying to my yang in terms of floral taste. Her flowers are hot pinks and cheerful blushes. In the strong sunshine of Saturday, they absolutely sang. I had to put three filters on this photo just to make it fit in with my muddy and bruised aesthetic; they looked nothing like this in real life.
Sunday 19 September
-
I am exhausted. Armchair gardening today. One of the issues that came up in the talk on Tuesday was about how we all need to adapt our flower farming to the climate emergency that we are all hurtling towards.
Funny story, my new neighbours thought I had a clever underwater irrigation system because they water with hose guns and sprinklers every single evening and they’d never seen me with so much as a watering can. I don’t have any underground irrigation; I water twice when I put a plant in, look after my soil through mulching, and then they’re on their own. When Cel Robertson said she did exactly the same, I cheered. Watering gardens unnecessarily with mains water is morally dubious at best and only creates dependency, sappy plants and shallow root systems. Just wait for rain. (If you are farming commercially or in tunnels, a slightly different approach might be required obviously.)
But I digress. Today, I logged into my Arvensis Perennials account and committed to a planting scheme that has been brewing for a while. Oh, and then I went on the Chiltern seed website and I bought a lot of seeds.
When I say seedmonger, I mean seedoholic.
That’s the thing with gardening. Even as the season is ending, I am already investing in the next one.
