It is difficult to write a blog about a garden retrospectively. Gardens, like time and tide, wait for no man (or woman), but move on even if the gardener is not there. Thus while I am about to write about summer, I have just been out to buy bulbs.... daffodils, crocus, allium, tulips etc., planted now will light up spring 2013.
The most exciting occurrence this summer has been discovering that maybe gardening is in the genes after all; D3 has dug, weeded, emptied her garden and has been excited as edges and borders are being filled.
"What do you mean aspect?", "Where is the best place for it to go?", "How high will it grow?" "Will it have perfume?", "I haven't got a howker to weed between the block paving", "Please may I borrow.........?"
I can see the anticipation in her eyes as she checks the height of a honeysuckle and rings me to say there is only another inch to go and it will reach the netting she has hammered into the fence. I glimpse the pride that the cheap, 'rescue' plant has survived courtesy of her tender handling.
Her garden is already filled with green gifts which have been donated mainly by my friends (especially M.) who are excited by this novice planter of the next generation; I hope, like me, she will stroll around her garden and remember all the friends who gave plants to encourage her; we all imagine she will watch the seasons come and go with the same pleasure we have.... and remember us.
I think she is a natural gardener too, not an educated flora fanatic. I know the country names more than the latin species; Grannys' bonnets stick more in her mind too.
I think she will be a better gardener than me, but then she does a lot better than me...... I don't mind as long as she feels the creativity, warmth and love a garden gives back.
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