The season of sweeping changes
Monday 7 February
-
Maud is off colour. This has happened twice before. The first time was a Bank Holiday Sunday. I put a cup of tea on the floor and she ignored it and I knew something was seriously wrong. On arriving at the shiny new veterinary hospital on the outskirts of the next town and reporting this as the most significant presenting symptom, I thought the out of hours vet was going to laugh or cry, or both. He didn’t know Maud though, and it turned out she was in the early stages of sepsis. Seventy two hours and several hundred pounds later, she was back to her usual tea thieving self. The second time was in the middle of the Christmas rush. A different out of hours vet said that she was coming into season and being rather dramatic about it and to take her home and stop wasting busy people’s time. It is therefore hard to know how to respond when Maud is off colour.
On this occasion, I decide not to ring the vet at 10pm, but to let Maud sleep in our bed, just in case anything dramatic happens.
Tuesday 8 February
-
Maud is, predictably, absolutely fine. She slept flat on her back with her feet in the air and wakes up with her tongue sticking out and a look of bliss on her face. I celebrate her miraculous recovery by cutting and photographing big boughs of blossom. I know within days it will have shattered and scattered sugar pink petals all over the floor, but I don’t care. It is just wonderful to have something in the house. (I brought massive branches in; this picture is just of the snippets I was using to test-drive the mini Kenzans.)
Wednesday 9 February
-
I am introverted to the point of being hermitic and, if given the choice, I will pretend that I don’t need people. (I have to work in an office a few days a week just to prevent complete social atrophy.) However, today I have a chat that makes me feel as if I have been filled with joy from my feet upwards. Becca of The Garden Gate Flower Company is one of the loveliest, most talented florists I know. In amongst an afternoon of conversation, sharing news and generally putting the world to rights, she agreed to be Gather’s resident rose expert*.
I am delighted to announce that she will be sharing all her favourite varieties with Gather next month in time for us to buy and plant them, and then doing Q&A’s, a gorgeous demo and an interview during the peak of the roses season in June. Yes, I have asked her to talk about growing roses in pots.
*Gather also has, amongst other wonderful people, a tulip expert (Polly Nicholson of Bayntun Flowers) and a bearded iris expert (India Hurst of Vervain). If you happen to know an internationally renowned sweet pea grower, now would be the time to speak up. The Gather team is, if I say so myself, absolutely incredible.
Photo of Becca (and Mabel) by John Hersey.
Thursday 10 February
-
Talking of Gather, something hasn’t felt quite right recently and I have been struggling to put my finger on what it is. Then I received two emails in the same day saying that my bills were being increased.
It seems that the news is full of the rising costs of living and the apparently paradoxical profits of multinational corporations. I am not a multinational corporation, I am just me, and I believe in paying the people who work within Gather generously and commensurate with their considerable skills and I donate a considerable amount of my business income to the Lemon Tree Trust. However, I do also want people, especially those who might need Gather all the more because life is hard, to be able to afford it. I have written before about how I make decisions about my business because of how they feel, not because it is the sensible thing to do (I buy all my string from Baileys Home for one) and this is another one of those. The price of Gather had gone up, and it felt wrong, and so it has come back down again.
For just £10 a month, you get:
Writing and photography narrating the shift in the seasons as expressed through plants, flowers, food and feelings in the form of weekly blog posts.
Utterly magical seasonal films of me, the dogs, & the field by Matt Austin
Monthly guest writing, guide or films from the absolute best in the world, including Milli Proust, India Hurst, Sarah Statham, Éva Nemeth, Polly Nicholson, Bex Patridge and more.
Free access to all my published ebooks, digital guides & seasonal journals. This includes the most comprehensive seed sowing guide (subtitle being ‘all the mistakes I have ever made so you don’t have to’) and an absolute beginner’s guide to natural dyeing.
Access to the members-only Instagram account
A weekly email on a Sunday morning, letting you know what has been going on in Gather that week, and some personal thoughts about what has been going on in my world
Oh, and the seed shop. Exclusive to Gather, the best, most beautifully packaged seeds, to UK addresses only.
If you would like to learn more, there is lots of info here, or to join at the new lower rate, just click here.
[If you are on the £15 rate currently, I will amend this.]
Friday 11 February
-
A van of books arrive. Boxes and boxes and boxes of them. They are unpacked, signed, wrapped and packed again. It takes three different post offices to get them all on their way.
I have five left in the Gather shop at members’ rates and I have ordered another 50 from the publisher which I have put in the general shop.
Saturday12 February
-
It is blowing a gale. I walk the dogs holding onto my hat. A willow tree has lost a branch further up the valley. I come home and snip hellebores and muscari in the wind. It is a relief to get inside and put the kettle on.
Sunday 13 February
-
The gale has brought in the rain. It sweeps over the field and the cottage, like being in a grey cloud. The setters approach the backdoor with enthusiasm and energy and take one look at the deluge, turn tail, and put themselves back on the sofa. It has been one of those days.
[Just for my own records - first wild garlic today.]
This photo by Matt Austin. It needs a professional to take a picture of two dark red dogs on a dark red sofa in a pitch black cottage.
