I'm back........

It's been a while. And I was going to start by apologising for that until I realised I've done that twice before and so I'm in a cycle and that cycle needs breaking.

I have nothing to apologise for, but I do want to share a few things to support some continuity. And the first of those things is that I haven't been very well. I don't think until yesterday even I realised how unwell, but the depression and anxiety have been back pretty much all summer. The result of this is a little voice in my head telling me not to do anything that the positive side wants to do, making the spiral into the black hole even more acute. Going out into the garden, working the allotment, writing here are all things that demon stops me from doing, telling me that even if I do, it won't be good enough, and generally bullying me into inactivity. It's a hideous, sad and lonely space to be and the pressure it creates is beyond frightening. 

But why? There's a question occasionally it's important to ask of yourself and deal with the answer properly. And one of the answers is that I have been beyond unhappy living where we are. We moved into our house 2 years ago, when my daughter and her partner were still with us, Des our little dog was still with us, and we were excited, or so I kidded myself, that we had a garden after just a courtyard in our city centre flat. But the reality has been much different. Our ward in Bristol was one of only a couple that voted to leave the EU, the provision for fresh food is dire, and its right up there in the most deprived areas of the city, and I had hoped to be able to work to support Incredible Edible Bristol into the area. But all I've heard is 'you don't come from round here' in various guises. Never have I felt so out of place. 

So yesterday we visited what will be our new home. It's perfect. Views across the city from upstairs, and a tiny garden that is a  completely blank canvas. Excited doesn't cover it. Reinvigorated, I have plans a plenty to really turn this into our home.

But there is something else I've battled with. An off the cuff remark by someone suggesting that, when I asked an online forum if others struggled to write at times, that my blog wasn't worth the effort if it didn't earn me any money, and nor was Incredible Edible Bristol. And that has brought about an internal, difficult conversation about worth. 

A lot, if not most, of what I do is voluntary. I don't hide that and I'm not trying to be some sort of saint. It's just the way it is. Incredible Edible Bristol is a voluntary organisation and as such supports expenses but funding for core costs is nigh on impossible. I really feel like I'm putting my head on the block writing this, but my thing is and always has been that If something needs doing let's do it. Waiting for funds often means things don't happen so we just get on with it! I think supporting 40 public realm gardens to begin and prosper over 4 years sets the precedent that just getting on with it, involving as many organisations as you can, and creating a buzz across the city, is the way to go to make real grassroots change. Yes it's meant sacrifices but its never occurred to me to prioritise my earning potential over getting on with it. My bag. My decision. 

Equally I write this blog, and my social media stuff for me. It's not my job. I'm aware of course that bloggers can and do earn a good living from blogging but although I'm not suggesting I never would, I never have. 

So that throw away comment really, really bothered me. Is everything we do supposed to be about financial worth? And if it is how do I change this so people take what I do seriously? I still don't have the answers to this but if anyone does, please share.....

So here I am, today, feeling much better, reinvigorated if not slightly nervous that firstly we have to move house which is my least favourite thing in the world to do ever, and that yet again I am wearing my heart on my sleeve. But there it is. Out there. 

Right now I'm on a train, off to a book launch in London and acutely aware I have books I've been sent to review, a garden and house to plan, and a very large project with Incredible Edible Bristol to plan. But today is a new day, those things will happen and the future is looking brighter.......

The Autumn Is Here

I'm really not joking but I'm trying not to panic!!

The seed heads of my alliums have finally fallen over. The sunflowers are dropping their heads. The calendula are still flowering but the seed heads are turning black. The dahlias have  gone black in the last frost. The perennial kale looks sad where it hasn't recovered from caterpillar attack and the mints are looking sad  and a bit cross.

 

The leaves are falling from the trees and shrubs that surround the garden, and each day the little Ginkgos leaves turn a bit more buttery in colour. The Acers, both in a bit of a sulk being in a garden that in all honesty is a bit too windy for them, have lost their leaves and the dieback is showing a bit. 

But am I rushing out to tidy it up? Am I panicking about the weeds that are still coming or the grass needing a last cut and it being too wet? What am I doing about the leaves falling everywhere? 

 

Well the answer is, I'm not really doing anything. There is no rush, no panic. It's my garden and at this time of year I'm losing interest in what I want from the garden and concentrating on what the wildlife need to get them through the winter.

Of course I'm still doing things. Sweet peas are sown, plugs bought are potted and being cared for in the greenhouse, several pots are full of primulas and some new bulbs have been planted. We've potted self propagated runners from the Japanese Wineberry, the strawberries have had their runners potted on and all the pots are weeded and top dressed with compost.

The leaves falling on the patio and paths are being collected for leaf mould and soon the compost will be emptied and spread on the beds keeping them full of the rich flora and fauna needed for the best growth next year. 

But most of all I'm enjoying the return of the birds to the feeders, the dewy cobwebs across the shrubs each morning and the feeling of life continuing in the garden despite the cold and damp and dark. I'm enjoying knowing the garden is beginning to take on a life of its own, where nature is the predominant force and Mother Nature is in charge.

 

Just probably need to point out that none of these pics are of my garden, but are photos taken around Bristol during the autumn!!

The importance of water

When my parents moved into their rural idyll in Lincolnshire one of the first things they decided to do, before they even knew if the house was going to remain standing, was dig an enormous pond. Well, I say they dug it but in reality we went up there to dig it while they looked after my daughter! They were determined to have running water around the garden and the pond was to be the beginning and the end of a stream that linked all the different areas of the garden. Eventually it became apparent that on their Lincolnshire clay it would take more than spades to dig this pond, and mechanised equipment was hired to finish the job, and almost as soon as the liner was in and the pond was filled the change in the gardens biodiversity was there to be seen. Whereas there was always plenty of birdsong, suddenly there were pond skaters, water boatmen and dragonflies, frogs and toads and it felt like the garden was buzzing and tweeting and properly alive. At one point that summer we sat on the patio watching hundreds of baby toads crossing the garden, like an amphibious swarm, heading to who knows where to do who knows what. It was an extraordinary sight.

 

But that pond taught me a vital lesson and that is that water in a garden is important for far more than looks alone. Whilst water is beautiful, and adds another dimension to any design, it's real power is that it brings in nature. 

Now we all know gardening is about controlling and manipulating nature but I've been thinking about this pond a lot recently, and here's why; it turned a garden, a manipulated and designed space, back to a far more natural place. It gave the herbaceous borders and rose garden a feeling of being part of something outside of the space and linked it with the landscape. It softened formal edges and the hard landscaping of seating areas and pergolas. It gave sound to the space, with the trickling of water as it moved around the garden. It felt like a door had opened and let nature back in.

Next year it will be 15 years since we dug that pond and that garden is gone to me, handed on to others. But I want to do the same both in my garden and in my allotment. Increasing biodiversity in that garden made mum a great gardener because she allowed nature in to fight the pests and diseases for her. Along with making compost and adding muck, which funnily was often down to me to barrow about as grandparent duties called, as soon as there was an issue, nature solved it. The house was always full of ladybirds in the winter, hiding in nooks and crannies and ready to rush outside as soon as the blackfly appeared on the roses, and those toads swallowed any slugs before they had a chance of getting to the prize winning delphiniums! And there were hedgehogs that snuffled about in the dusk, eating slugs as they went and leaving the snails for the thrushes to eat for breakfast.

And so my plan is for the tiny pond on my allotment, at the moment choked with duckweed, to be the centre of my allotment flower garden next year. I hope if I clear it out and plant some aquatics in it, that it will bring in the magic that I remember and go some way to reliving the magic of that garden in Lincolnshire. 

 

Wordless Wednesday

Eryngium yuccifolium