How long can it take to decide what to call a post about an incredibly influential Dutch garden designer? Ages, apparently. And I’ve discovered that if I don’t start with a title before I write anything else, it stuffs up the permalink system, and names it by a number.
Anyway, forget all that, and start reading here:
Neither snowdrops or hellebores are frost sensitive, and they’re happy in climates colder than the coldest of ours in Australia. But that’s not to say that they’re unaffected by frost.
I’m totally thrown by tropical gardens, or at least by tropical plants. I can’t shake the conviction that, given a tropical climate, I wouldn’t have a clue how to use them effectively together.
In the last 20 years, there’s been something like six gardens that I’ve visited in which I’ve come close to losing the plot altogether – that have made me nearly sick with joy – have made me want to set up camp and never, ever leave.
Now don’t get me wrong. Rosemary is an incredible plant. It grows happily in the toughest, poorest conditions, flowers in the dead of winter and instead of giving off airs of one that’s surviving with gritted teeth, has the grace to wrap itself in the rich fragrance of nana-roast.
Very nearly ten years ago we bought a tree with a house attached. That’s not quite how it was advertised, but that’s how we chose to see it. It was the old oak that I really wanted, and the house was, well, manageable.
