18th March 2011

Raining again here, and pretty cold too. Luckily for Elspeth’s day at Chiswick House last week, the weather was lovely. The Life section of the Telegraph (the bit I write for) have been running a competition – Gardening Against the Odds – to celebrate gardeners who create beautiful gardens in adversity. It was a pleasure to meet the winners, who were awarded their prizes by David Bellamy.

Back down to earth, progress here is slow. Have decided though, on the area where my hens will live, under an ancient silver birch, where the garden shed used to sit. The ground is very dry, but will try and sow grass, so the birds have a comfy sward to scarify when in their run. Am planning a new henhouse that I hope the company Jacques works for will build, and maybe sell to the public.

We have come up with a list of venues for our courses for this half of coming year. Several in Suffolk, but also in Hampstead, Guildford and Sussex (see course page). Will resume courses from home next year probably, when the dust settles.

7th March 2011

What a lovely spring day!
So I’ve been out and taken photos to send you.

About time, I know, but if it’s possible for dust to affect the brain, then that’s my excuse. Walls have come down, floors have come up and ceilings are all over the place. I know I asked for it, but I’d forgotten just how pervasive the dust is. My eyes, my nose and I hate the fact my hands are always dry.

Anyway, I seemed to have forgotten how to work my camera, but a quick lesson from son Max, shaking his head at my uselessness, have resulted in a few images for you.

Progress in the garden:

A group of brilliant lads from the local Enterprise Board ’s horticultural initiative came round and we planted a dozen or so fruit trees from local Brogdale – home of the National Collection. They look like a collection of twigs, rather than the beginnings of an orchard, but with a scattering of bulbs and a bit of imagination, I can see myself one day, sitting there surrounded by blossom.

Wishful thinking is what it takes at this stage. My builder, James is ace, but things move at a much slower pace than I’d imagined, and I’m camping out in the meantime, with all my belongings back in boxes or under dust sheets.

Tomorrow, I dust myself down, and go to Chiswick House to celebrate the winners of the Against the Odds garden writing competition run by the Telegraph to commemorate the sad death of friend Elspeth Thompson. Will report back.