Not the messy middle of the year, obviously, we are still only ten weeks in, but of the gardening year. Not even the practical gardening year, but the conceptual.

What am I going on about? I am talking about the fact that no one area of my field, garden, orchard or courtyard looks good right now. I have been hacking back the hedge germander in the kitchen garden (it is the only language it understands, you simply have to be brutal) and so it looks like the before picture of a garden makeover, and I have slightly lost track of what I want the after to look like. Topiary is always a bit of a leap of faith whatever, and I am starting to work on the big Lonicera hedges which look like me on a day in between hair washes. What I mean is, they look awful. I have to wash my hair every day.

The first week of March is infused with hope, and hopefully a little sunshine. I find the second week of March is a blur. The carefully planned lists, curated and lovingly crafted over the winter, with catalogues of dreams and feet up in front of the fire, are but autumn leaves in the wind now. I have simply tipped my seed tin upside down and I am throwing everything I can find into module trays. Today is a root day (is Florence fennel a root?) and so there are six sorts of beetroot now sitting on the windowsill in the scullery. I’m wondering if I can do completely off piste and fill a seed tray with Lunaria rediviva or whether I should cut my losses and try and source some plants. Whilst I am doing this, I am googling vintage estate fencing gates (I now have a lot of gateways to fill.)

If you are also in this window of the messy middle, now is the time to put the kettle on and take a deep breath. It is time to get into tune with the season and let things burst forth in in their own time. Who am I kidding? Now is the time for getting straight.

The antidote for chaos is so often containment. In a garden, containment means structure and forms, a pot maybe, but definitely supports. If it feels like everything is just a bit soft and sprawling, or still incredibly bare, then I cannot overstate how life can be changed by a few twigs and branches, judiciously placed.

This morning, I am starting with peony supports. Partly because they are super easy, terribly satisfying, and peonies will not thank you for waiting until they are flopping all over the place before you start thinking about getting them upright again.

However, I advise you to find your own version of peony supports. Something that is simple, satisfying, calms the nervous system, and allows for plenty of tea breaks.