Scotland: the flora

It seemed that everywhere we went in Scotland, we saw Rose Bay Willow Herb. I don't remember ever seeing these flowers before, and was glad to have my in-laws there to find out the name of the pretty pink plants I kept seeing. I loved their shape, their colour, their great height - basically everything about them. These photos don't really do justice to their beauty.

There's something wonderfully endearing about these black, furry seed pods & the way you can see the shape of the seed through the pod.

Quite simply, beauty-full.

learning as we grow

One of the things that I will remember about this first home that John & I have shared is our little patio. While neither of us are particularly green fingered, we both dream of one day having a home that has a garden. 

Although there is very little room for growth & life on our patio, we have tried to make the most of it by lifting up some of the flagstones & putting down a grow bed that my parents kindly gave us for Christmas. 

(Transporting the compost home from the garden shop was another story altogether. We went for a run, popped into the shop, purchased 50kg of compost, then lugged them home on our shoulders. I don't ever want to do that again. Ever.) 

So anyhow, back to our grow box. Some time in May, we planted rows of seeds with smiles on our faces, excited at the prospect of produce which would hopefully spring forth & feed us over the Summer months. 

While we know little about gardening, we do know that tomato plants like to take up a lot of room. What we should have done was plant the tomatoes in their own little space to give the rest of our seedlings a chance of survival. But we didn't. 

We have been so excited to watch our tiny garden grow, and have diligently watered it (although there have been many weeks when the rain has done the work for us) and done little else. A few weeks ago, my good friend Ros came round for coffee & cake. She looked at our tomato plants & said, 'you've done a good job at picking those out'. I had no idea what she was talking about, so she gave me a lesson in how to help tomato plants grow up tall & strong, and be more fruitful.

Due to our ignorant negligence, our tomato plants had not once been picked out, and as a result, had great strong branches growing in every direction, thus weighing down the main stem & creating a bit of a struggle for themselves. So, for the last few evenings, while watering the little garden, I have started picking out the off-shoots (is that even a term?) in the hope that they will bear greater fruit when their load has been reduced.  

Over the last year I have been given two orchids as gifts. The first one as a house warming present from the family I childmind for, and the second by John when he came back from China at Easter. When John presented me with this beautiful flowering orchid, my first thought was, 'oh no, another one for me to kill off!' I find there is something rather daunting about being entrusted with a flower as delicate as an orchid. I didn't know how to care for them, and when the flowers fell from my first orchid, I thought they may well be the last. 

Along the way, I have asked a couple of much more seasoned gardeners for advice on caring for orchids. I have learned that they love to have their leaves kept wet, and that they like to sit in water every now & then. So, for the last few months, I have diligently sprayed my flowerless orchids in the hope that they might live. To my great delight, both orchids have buds that look almost ready to burst into bloom. It's amazing what a little water and patience can do.

on clouds, family and flowers

This is the last week of my PGCE course, which is very exciting, but also means that I have not managed to blog about the weekend before now. 

So here's a quick overview of the weekend events...

We set off for Surrey, hoping to leave a wet Bristol behind and find some sunshine. We found a few rays by the time we got there, having driving under heavy black & grey skies for hours. I didn't mind though, because I got to watch the ever changing skies the whole time (apart from during my nap), which is one of my favourite things to do.

It was exciting to be arriving, knowing that my Granny had no idea we were coming to celebrate her 90th birthday with her. Surprises are so much fun when you're in on the secret.

My Granny is priceless - when my Mum & Dad arrived she said to my Dad 'what are you doing here? I only saw you two weeks ago!' 

I could not get over these sugar crafted flowers that were on top of her cake. They were just perfect - attention had been paid to every single delicate detail of the colour, shape and form of the irises.

Irises for Iris

As I took this photo, my Granny was talking to a friend about the WI and how old white sheets make the perfect table cloths for cake stalls at Women's Institute Summer fairs. They reminisced on how it used to take a whole day to do one's laundry & chuckled at the way things have changed. I love hearing about what life used to be like in the years before I lived, told straight from the mouths of those who lived in those times.

 

After we had chatted & celebrated & eaten vast amounts of wonderful food (there were enough varieties of cake to open up a bakery), John & I headed to London to spend the night at his parents in East Dulwich.

I always love visiting the shops in East Dulwich - there are so many pretty things to pour over. I found two dresses in a charity shop for £12 and these beautiful incense sticks. 

I bought these from a gift shop called Ed, and while I was happily browsing their beautiful selection of gifts, I witnessed a theft! A girl walked out of the shop, setting the alarms off, and two of the staff ran after her. They returned ten minutes later, and hadn't managed to catch her. That must be so disheartening when people decide to steal something that helps to provide your livelihood. 

I also came home with these beautiful flowers grown with love in my mother's garden, and a bay tree from John's parents.

If you've made it to the end of this photo fest, well done, and thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings!

Docton Mill

On our first day in Devon, we paid a visit to Docton Mill. The clever sat nav failed to find the main entrance, so we followed our noses and found the back door to the kitchen. Once we had been ushered around to the garden gate by the friendly staff, we took the map of the garden and started exploring. This place was deceptively large, considering our humble entry throught the back gate. It felt a little like we were discovering the Secret Garden that lies behind the gate. It was quite simply, beautiful.

The first owners of the mill had nine children and they all shared one bedroom. (This was in the 18th Century, I think.) In the cold Winter, the dairy cow would share the living area with the family to keep warm. What an incredible scene to imagine!

I've just realised that I didn't actually take a photo of the mill - I was too enthralled by the flowers.

 

See what I mean? It just got better.

Then there were the streams and mini-waterfalls with little bridges to play pooh sticks on.

The path that led to the orchard was lined with the most velvety tulips I have ever seen.

And a green grassy orchard that was just beckoning me to walk across barefoot with a little skip in my step.

Once we had finished our tour of the gardens we indulged in traditional Devonshire Cream Tea. The scones were fresh from the oven, still warm and a little crumbly. We had the biggest tub of clotted cream and we ate it all. De-licious.

mother's day

When I think of my mum, so many things come to mind. I think of how she loved us so well as small children. Reading to us at bedtime, cooking us dinner from scratch every single day; answering the endless questions we would ask about anything and everything; going to search for my springy pink keyring that I lost on the beach - going out of her way to find this precious belonging which she had told me to leave at home because she could foresee the heart break that lay ahead. I think of her delicate feminine figure, walking down the garden to put the compost on the heap and getting lost amongst her carefully tended flowers. I think of the long plait running down her back, keeping her long hazel locks out of her eyes. I think of her gentle voice that so rarely shouted at us when berating our misbehaviour. 

Watching my friends around me start to bring children into this world, I see them cope with the tiredness of a newborn, and the way they give their all to meeting the needs of the babe in their arms, and find myself in even greater awe of my own mother and how she did this four times over. I think of all the energy and love she gave us as infants that we will never be able to remember. I love that my Mum and Dad have shared in this journey of parenthood, sticking side by side, a united force throughout. I love that whenever I tried to be sneaky and ask my Mum for something and she said, 'no', I would approach Dad with the same question and his first response would be, 'have you asked Mum?' They could see right through my childishness, seeking to get the desired response from one parent if the other hadn't given it. There was something wonderful about knowing that they were on the same page with decision making. That if one said no, the other would stand by this.

As an adult,  my appreciation of my Mother takes on a new form, seeing her love in a new light, seeing the sacrifices she has made for us in so very many ways over the course of our lives so far. I am so thankful that I have a wonderful, steadfast mother that I can call on  for help, drawing on her fountains of knowledge, that I might grow and learn and become a shadow of the brilliance that she reflects.

Happy Mother's Day, Mum. I love you & all that you do for us.

With love, your daughter xxx

radiant with charm

ranunculus :: radiant with charm

I love the boldness of their colours. Bright & happy on a spring day, or muted tones on a calm, quiet morning

I love their delicate layers. Waif like, & paper thin, yet somehow they look strong. Even in their dying moments,  still beautiful & bold.

iris.

On Friday we had the pleasure of seeing John's parents for the evening. They had come to Bath for a few days, and invited us to dine with them. Sara, John's Mum, bought me an enormous bouquet of flowers - a mixture of gerbera, lisianthus, tulips, iris' and another flower that I have yet to identify. Sadly, I haven't succeeded in taking any photos of the flowers that I have been happy with, apart from these two. 

I love Iris'. They're not my favourite flower, but they remind me of two people that I love, and I like being reminded of people who I don't get to see very often. The first is my Granny. She's called Iris. I love that she was named after a flower, as were two of her sisters - Lily and Violet. Come to think of it, my Great Grandma was named after a flower too - she was called Daisy & lived til she was 108. What a brilliant woman she was. I still remember going to her house when I was very little and playing with a wooden Noah's ark & animals. 

I'm also reminded of my friend Katie when I look at Iris'. Katie was one of my housemates during university and she is now working hard as a doctor. Iris' are her absolute favourite flower and I never tired of listening to her talk about how beautiful she thought they were. I love how we connect memories and people with different sights, sounds and smells, that you can be anywhere in the world, but scent of a perfume, or the aroma of a certain food will bring memories flooding back.

winter sweet.

On Sunday, we spent the afternoon in the comfort of a lovely home in Long Ashton, the village where we got married. Some friends from church had invited us to lunch. 

Their cottage is such a lovely place to escape to, where they tend a trio of gregarious sheep, a chicken having trouble laying eggs, and a loveable dog called Bruno. We were treated with a delicious roast lunch and a gently warming fire while the Winter rain poured down outside.

As we set to make tracks home, Barbara, our host, donned her head torch & picked up a pair of secateurs - not the usual attire of a host bidding her guests farewell. The reason for the torch & garden tools? To cut us a cluster of flowers to bring home. 

We drove home, John, safely navigating through the rain, Ben in the back, and me in the passenger seat, gently clutching my collection of snow drops, iris & winter sweet, my head being pulled by the weight of sleep and raindrops rolling down the flowers, cooling my hands. A perfect end to a restful weekend. 

a tiny glimpse

Ever since discovering the beauty of peonies last year, I have not been able to stop thinking about them.

As the sun started to show its face, reminding us that Spring was here, I started looking out for peony buds making their first appearances of the season. So much so, that I have found myself walking to school in the afternoons to collect the children, rather than taking my usual 2 wheeled mode of transport, just so I can search people's front gardens for my favourite flower.

I have not been disappointed. They seem to be everywhere, and I have so enjoyed watching the tight buds unfurling to reveal all of their glory, resplendant at each stage.

What has made my enjoyment of peonies even greater this year is that one of the children I look after has been as utterly taken by peonies as I have, and has taken great delight in finding they have not just one, but two peony bushes in their back garden. Each day I get an update from her on how many new buds there are. I love that I get to share my child-like excitement & appreciation of all the little things with children, and that, every now and then, they catch a bit of my excitement and run with it.