Laughter really is a good tonic

On Saturday we went to Wembley . . . no, not to the Cup Final . . . the Arena, to see the Eddie Izzard gig 'Force Mageure'.

We had a great time (I ached a bit from laughing at the bit about dressage being useful for reversing a horse into a cupboard) and it makes quite a change to be in a massive arena full of thousands of people.

After the show we walked the short distance back to the hotel, had a beer and fell asleep . . . So much better than driving all the way back to Suffolk. This morning we decided to find somewhere to explore before heading home, so we went to Hampstead and after a lovely breakfast we went to Fenton House . . . and it turned out to be a wonderful surprise! I think it may be my idea of a perfect garden, because there were all the things I like most . . .

 a lovely lean-to greenhouse, 

lots of seats and lovely secret corners 

beautiful but simple topiary

an orchard with wild flowers in the grass under the trees

a walled veg plot with perfectly trained fruit trees

and a very tame robin

Who would have thought you could be in such a beautiful tranquil garden, but still see the sky scrapers of central London from 4th floor balcony?!

The rooms in Fenton House are full of the most delightful treasures . . . 18th century ceramics, embroideries of the most amazing detail and some lovely paintings. Everything was so charmingly displayed; I think I could happily spend a whole day in each room looking at all the things in detail.

I came away with my relaxed mind buzzing with ideas!

Celia

x

PPP now means Pigeon Proof Pen

Hello! I've had an enforced break from blogging (reason: illusive cable snappage = no broadband) but I'm back and I'd like to welcome anyone who has found Purple Podded Peas via this lovely recommendation by that very nice chap Ryan in a rather good magazine called The Edible Garden (I'm not a huge reader of gardening mags, but this one is full of very interesting stuff).

So, what's all this about Purple Podded Peas? Regular visitors to my blog will know that I ramble on about all sorts of things, including our garden; but the peas haven't played a major role for the past couple of years mainly do to the ****ing pigeons. Now, I don't usually swear and I hardly ever cry, but the ****ing pigeons have made me do both over the past two or three growing seasons. I used to be able to grow tall wigwams of beautiful heritage peas with just a few pigeon-distraction measures in the early stages of growth. THEN (I can feel myself getting angry and upset just remembering this) the ****ing pigeons used nasty tactics; they waited until my peas were tall and covered with beautiful flowers and tiny pods and in a dawn raid they demolished the lot!

Something had to be done.

a) I could give up growing peas (I have saved seeds of over a dozen heritage varieties, most with purple pods) – that's not going to happen

b) I could buy an air gun, learn how to use it and live on pigeon breast terrine – I seriously considered this option

c) I could install a 'fruit cage' – previously ruled out due to huge expense

Earlier this year I noticed a tiny advert in a national newspaper: Henry Cowles - netting made in Britain since 1889, could they supply the solution at a price I could afford? . . . yes they could! AND what's more, the cage is made to measure so it perfectly fits over two of the raised beds in our vegetable garden :-)

The cage arrived . . . and it had to be constructed. Luckily I have a very tall person who was up to the task :-) 

The Pigeon Proof Pen (as it will now be called) has made me deliriously happy . . . for the price of one designer shoe my peas can grow, safe in the knowledge that the squadron of elite attack pigeons cannot harm them :-)

I start the peas in large deep pots in the greenhouse, when they are a few inches tall and with good roots, I plant then out around wigwams made of canes (home harvested form a giant miscanthus grass) and twiggy sticks (prunings from the garden shrubs)

One half of the Pigeon Proof Pen is now planted with five wigwams: Shiraz Purple Podded Mangetout, Tutankhamun, Curruther's Purple Podded, Robinson and Salmon Flowered.

The wigwams will be interplanted with various varieties of lettuce and brassicas.

Thanks to the Pigeon Proof Pen, the Purple Podded Peas have returned to the PPPs Blog!

Celia
xx

April evening on the South Bank

After a morning working hard putting the netting on the "pea cage" (I'll tell you more of that another day) we drove down to London . . .

We walked past the shiny new Shard that slices into the sky (as you look at this, imagine the bells of Southark Cathedral pealing out in the background)

We strolled along the Jubilee Walk and past the bridges

We ate ice creams leaning on balcony of the Royal Festival Hall and watched the people below walking in the evening sunshine

We took our seats for the concert (Verdi's Requiem conducted by Daniele Gatti)

After the concert we looked at the twinkling lights on the river.

Primula Overture

Primula, its name tells us that it is 'the first', the first to flower in Spring; never has this been more true than than in this year's long awaited Spring. The icy wind from the North Sea was replaced by the warm South-Westerly and the Primroses in our garden rejoiced!

The Brimstone and Comma Butterflies danced over the carpet of Primroses and Violets, a few bees joined in too . . . I wonder what kind of been this is? I love its ginger fur.
btw Twitter has helped me ID this bee as a Common Carder Bumblebee, most likely a young Queen who had survived the winter and will now start a new colony . . . isn't that wonderful!

A few years ago I planted lots of Victorian Polyanthus that I'd grown from seed, these have hybridised with the wild Primroses, at first I thought of weeding out the coloured primroses but there are so many, so we let them mingle.

Last year I was visiting a local 'open garden' when I spotted two little Auricula plants that were left on a plant stall, so I bought them. When they flowered I discovered one pot had two different plants in it, so I carefully potted them up separately. I was now hooked, Auriculas have that effect on people. They are related to Primroses and Polyanthus, but they need a bit more tlc . . . never too hot and not too cold; not too dry but never too wet. If you treat them right they reward you with exquisite flowers . . . like this

I bought three more Auriclas this year, mine are 'just' Garden Auriculas, not the special named varieties, I could plant them in the garden but I think they look more special grown individually in old terracotta pots. I'll divide them to make more plants when this year's flowers have faded - and so I know which plant is which I've given them names. More photos of my small collection here on Pinterest.

Auriculas seem to be the flower of the moment, I wonder why? The history of Auriculas in England is closely linked to the Huguenot silk weavers and it is this story which is told in a beautiful collection of songs, the Auricula Suite I discovered this in a chance conversation with one of my customers - she is one of the musicians.
There is more about Auriculas and the Huguenots on the Spitalfield Life blog, including pictures of a rather lovely Auricula Theatre made from one of those wooden arbour seats that you see for sale in garden centres – now that's a clever idea!

Celia
xx