It’s hard to face. Difficult to accept. But it’s time for a new wheelbarrow.
I was making a hasty departure from Longwood a few weeks back, and with no time to take a proper look at the excellent shop near the exit, snatched up a book on meadows near the door. After a very quick flick and a glance at the price I shoved a copy and the right cash into the hands of one of my group who happened to be near the front of the checkout queue.
Flowers are pretty thin around here right now. I’m gagging for a bit of colour. A couple of years back I wrote about adding inorganic colour to your garden, but for some reason (can’t think why) I never included paint.
I’ve received two seed catalogues in the mail in the last couple of weeks. The Diggers Seed Annual and the Lambley Nursery Seed Manual. They’re almost identical in size and glossiness etc, but couldn’t be more different in their underlying philosophy, particularly in regard to their vegetable seeds.
I remember a few years back being struck by the point made in an architectural book that one of the best ways of making low ceiling heights less oppressive was to bring the ceiling down lower still in some parts of the house, so that the original ceiling heights appeared at least relatively higher.
I can’t get enough of the High Line. I’ve visited three times in the last two years, but now that I’m stuck for a while on the other side of the planet, I can’t understand why I didn’t go back several times on each visit to New York. Michael Hatton – a Shepparton-based designer – told me that he went every morning and every night for the three weeks he was in town. Why didn’t I do that?
You may have seen Gardening Australia on Saturday night. I was talking to John Patrick about a garden I designed in Woodend North, Victoria. If you’re interested, you can catch it on iView here.
There’s this thing going on the The States at the moment, where they stick their pots of annuals and perennials full of….well…sticks. It may well be happening elsewhere, but its been a while since I’ve been elsewhere.
Just back from the USA, and lingering in a state of garden bliss. In no other two- week period of my life have I accessed such a broad spectrum of garden aspiration and achievement (except, perhaps, running the same tour last year).
Not quite twenty years ago a single image in a movie spawned – for me – a whole new way of looking at gardens.
Firewood is now such a frightful price that you feel compelled to maximize the layers of pleasure it can provide. The provision of warmth alone isn’t enough.
OK, enough of the frivolity. This is serious. This is practical.