Open gardens

Yesterday we had one of those occasions that you dream about in the depths of winter, wandering about other peoples' gardens in delightfully warm weather. A nearby village  was holding a fund-raising event, and they chose their weekend well! Communal effort has transformed the garden of the village hall into a breathtaking site. Formerly overgrown and abandoned, it has now been cleared, the wall repointed and the area sown with wild flowers.

 What a lovely sight!

It's a pretty village, owned by the Duchy of Cornwall, with a mixture of handsome farmhouses and attractive small cottages.

Some well-tagged young livestock were out in the yard enjoying the weather. "What's this? Sunshine!"

We hadn't visited any of the gardens before so had no idea what to expect. We walked through an archway at The Old Rectory

and entered a wonderful space.

I didn't know which to admire first, the clever planting or the beautiful house. (Those vicars certainly knew how to live well!) The rectory has been privately owned for the last thirty years and, when purchased, the area that is now a garden was an unkempt field. The charming owners do all the work themselves with the assistance of a younger man in the village.

The are obviously skilled gardeners, balancing control and profusion with great success.

Somewhere down there is a lake

causing the owners some distress as it has become clogged with silt from the neighbouring farmland.
It makes the concerns for my little puddle of a pond seem rather insignificant!

The advantage of having adjoining farmland is that you do get a lovely borrowed view.

Himself studied the various archways and arbours with a view to 'borrowing' any ideas for home.

Then we had a wander down the road to see what else there was to discover.

The bunting was out,

there was a garden 'privy'!

And a window in a hedge.

There were nice small details in other gardens,

  an impressive level of tidiness

and some very desirable plants - just what I'd like for my border!

But it's always nice to come home.

SUMMER

The post brought some pictures of how the perfect English summer should be; a catalogue of British pictures from the Maas Gallery, which features one of my favourite watercolourists, Dorothy Webster Hawksley.

I have a small print of one of her paintings in a bedroom. I love her use of sharp, clear lemon yellow.

We had a private view invitation

with the most perfect representation of a summer evening, Dave Inshaw's painting, on loan from the Tate Gallery, where postcards of this image are the most popular purchase.

(1943 was a very good year!)

The day was just as beautiful as the paintings and when friends came round we sat outside under the shade of the walnut tree. John looked as though he had just walked out of an Impressionist painting!

In the afternoon we did nothing more than loll about in the garden enjoying the glorious weather.

I would have liked to clear up the very messy pond, but every time I put my net into the water I fished up tiny, wriggling newts. They obviously thrive on a bit of murk and debris, so I'm leaving well alone.

I LOVE SUMMER!

Rich pickings

It's cold out and doesn't feel like summer but even so the garden is producing quite well.

The ground is dry and crying out for a substantial downpour and we have been enduring cold, blustery winds.

I've been having to do additional staking in the vegetable plot.

The mangetout, Carouby De Maussane, with it's attractive flowers, is cropping nicely. But it's tall and I've had to clamp it between two lots of wiring to stop the stems from being broken by the wind.

The early dwarf peas, 'Hatif D'Annonay', that I got from the seed swap, are far more manageable. They are showing a huge crop of pods. If they have a good flavour I shall store some to sow next year.

There is a good selection of vegetables for a stir fry.

Of course it's never all plain sailing - the kohl-rabbi is boulting!

Never mind, there is always consolation to be found in the flower borders.

Old roses - I love them!

And since I praised Sara Bernhardt she's got so bigheaded!

I'm trying to keep the far end of the border to purple, red and blue. 

There are plenty of flowers to pick for the house.

And a small vase 

for those sweet peas that get all tangled up in their own tendrils!

When I'm out in the garden I am often 'helped' by Vanilla, my neighbours' cat.

She likes to play hide and seek, trip the gardener,

and chase.

'You don't want to play, then?' she asks. 'Oh, well, I'll go home.'