In the box

Every now and again, you have to give into temptation. Some old floorboards leaning against the shed have been crying out to be turned into something altogether more interesting and useful. We’d been thinking about introducing a line of vintage effect wooden garden planters if there’s sufficient interest and, needing an original gift for a good friend, the chance to make a prototype box and plant it up with a selection of mediterranean herbs seemed too good to miss.

Having assembled the box, I found myself in two minds as to whether to leave the box totally untreated as the old floorboards had quite a bit of character. But the opportunity to trial a particular aged paint finish won out in the end. With a coat of primer and a top coat in a silvery grey shade, the corners and edges were sanded to remove any splinters, and the sander was also applied to the painted sides to enhance the impression of years of wear and tear. The next step was to apply a dark coloured wax with wire wool, which will protect the wood further. It also built up in the rough surface to accentuate the texture. A thick black polythene liner gets stapled in next, with holes punched through to align with the drainage holes drilled into the plywood base. A free draining compost and a scattering of water retaining gell crystals (not as critical with herbs as with other containerised plants, but helpful nonetheless), it was ready to be planted with a selection including sage, rosemary, basil, thyme and the curry plant Helichrysum italicum.

So much for the finish. It was around this stage that I realise that I’d taken some old timber, cut it to size, cleaned it up, sanded it down – and then spent several hours painstakingly making it look like...old timber. But I think the trouble was worth it...and hope you agree.

Now all that remains is to brush all the sawdust of everything in the potting shed.

In praise of peonies

Paeonia lactiflora ‘Sarah Bernhardt’

Firstly, I should say, hurrah, it’s June! At least, I think that deserves a ‘hurrah’ – the year is rushing past so quickly and gardens everywhere seem to be gathering momentum, building towards either a most amazing, bountiful crescendo of floral splendour, or a parched, arid period of drought where only the toughest of our Mediterranean garden imports looks chipper. Ever the optimist, my money’s on the former...after all, Wimbledon fortnight is soon upon us, and so rain is inevitable.


But secondly, I am in love. Again. With a flower. Well, a genus – peonies have really captured not only my eye but my heart too this past year. What a fantastically, beautiful, unapologetically blousey flower, on wonderful, deep green foliage. It lifts the borders and the spirits. We have the double-flowered ‘Sarah Bernhardt’ in one border – the heavy, ruffled, soft pink blooms like so many petticoats, weighing down the stems and requiring constant tying in so as not to become victim to the breeze or short bursts of rain but, oh so worth the effort. In the opposite border, a much deeper, scarlet-flowered Paeonia lactiflora ‘Karl Rosenfeld’ catches the eye, with its rich yellow pollen laden anthers peeking out from wine-coloured petals. And somewhere in a corner sulks ‘Shirley Temple’ – she obviously requires more of the limelight and will have to be moved for next spring if we’re to get the most from her large, pale pink flowers which fade to white.

Paonia lactiflora ‘Karl Rosenfeld’

Next year, I have designs on a tree peony which bewitched a friend when we went to Wisley in May – Paeonia rockii – white flowers as big as a plate, with a splash of maroon in the centre. Magic.

Paeonia rockii at the RHS Gardens, Wisley. With thanks to Louise Burgess for the image

An ill wind

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Chelsea Flower Show looking quite so windswept as the television coverage of yesterday’s press day showed it to be. And certainly the fierce gusts throughout the south east will have made the traditional ‘Chelsea Chop’ – that time in the horticultural year when gardeners are reminded that a swift and judicious dead-heading of certain, robust flowering perennials will bear dividends with a second flush of flowering later in the summer – somewhat more drastic than anticipated in some gardens. In fact in one border here, the force of the wind seems to have inflicted more of a Chelsea Flop on a certain geranium. However, the plant in question being robust to the point of thuggishness, I have no doubt that it will soon make a full recovery. And in the meantime, its temporary absence has opened space into which the lupins can stretch out, and created a gap where we can plant some of the cosmos which we’ve been nurturing from seed in the greenhouse.

It’s an ill wind, as they say, that blows nobody any good.

Mini cards

Very excited by the recent arrival of our mini cards from Moo. Nine different designs, featuring garden photography, marketing messages and favourite quotes, which we’ll be distributing amongst friends and customers to spread the grow message!

Loads more creative ideas about what to do with them, so look out for them soon!

May blossom

May has arrived, bringing with it the Andrew’s fortieth birthday, the prospect of the Chelsea Flower Show (for which we were too late to get tickets) at the end of the month, and, perhaps most importantly…some rain!

An unusually hot and dry April made for fantastic weather over Easter and the extra bank holiday gifted to us by the Royal Wedding, but left the garden gasping for the faintest sniff of an April shower. The thick layer of well composted manure we spread over the borders here at grow headquarters has not only transformed how the garden looks, offsetting the fresh greens and reds of the new spring leaves, but is doing an essential job of retaining as much moisture as possible within the soil.

And suddenly, the year seems to be well under way. The tulips are all but gone over now, replaced in the borders by alliums and unfurling, blousey paeonies. Last month’s vision of exaggeratedly generous cherry blossom on barely-leaved branches is now a memory, and now we can enjoy the sight of the May sun shining through pristine foliage and the amazing seeds pods of honesty Lunaria annua. And in the hedgerows, the dog roses are blooming with a gentle pink froth, and the hawthorn, which keeps us waiting, is clothed with May blossom. So much life.

The joy of hand tools

There’s no denying the usefulness of powered tools in the garden. And while electric models are inexpensive to buy and light in use, the threats of cutting through a power cord, running out of battery charge mid-way through a job, or having proceedings called to an end by a sudden downpour, makes their petrol engined counterparts far more useful. But...so noisy! Not to mention smelly and, let’s face it, not ideal on the environmental front.


Ok, hand tools might be much slower in many cases, but not, it must be said, in all. I’m beginning to suspect that many of us reach too quickly for the power tool, when its finely crafted and well balanced manual counterpart would be a more appropriate solution. Of course, there’s an obvious commercial benefit to being able to do a job quickly, and no doubt the powered tools come in handy in this respect, but there seems to be something slightly incongruous about having to wear ear defenders in such a natural setting as a garden. I wonder how many clients will be happier to forgo the racket and emissions of, for example, my excellent petrol leaf blower, in favour of seeing their gardener working quietly but no less efficiently with a finely honed ash-handled rake and a broom.

I know which I’d rather use. I prefer a more civilised approach – one which doesn’t require all the neighbours to dash indoors and close all the windows – and I think it only sensible to put my trust in the hundreds of years of experience which has handed down to gardeners today tools which are perfectly designed and eminently suited to the tasks for which they are intended.

So, while I can’t promise never to use powered tools – time and cost to both my clients and to my business would dictate otherwise – I think it’s safe to say that they won’t be my default first choice for every task.

Spring is sprung...

Spring is sprung
Da grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies iz
Da little boids is on da wing
Ain't dat absoid
Da little wings is on da boid
Anon.

Spring has most certainly sprung, and the grass is definitely riz, at least everywhere except the patches where it’s been worn out by being trampled into a soggy clay quagmire over the winter months. Nothing a smart bit of seeding and feeding won’t mend and, anyway, I have plans for a brick path that will stand up to the rigours of year-round traffic more robustly. So, shears, strimmer and mower have all been given their first outing of the year this week – it could have been a little earlier, but I don’t have the heart to brutalise the celandine Ranunculus ficaria which merrily rampages its way through the lawns and borders at this time of year. It’s such a positive little flower, appearing as it does around the time that the clocks go forward, giving us an extra hour of daylight in the evenings.

And as for the boidies, they’re making the most of all the digging we’re doing, not to mention the recent pollarding of the ash tree which has unveiled all manner of juicy critters to feast upon. And it can only be a few weeks before we’re beset by gangs of comedy starlings, which always brings a smile.

A time to sow

It’s spring. That time of year when we never seem to have enough working space, and the areas that have been dedicated to wood-working tasks over the winter months need to be reclaimed for managing the garden. Every year, I resolve to be better prepared for this change in seasons. This year – inevitably – I’m sowing seeds on a bench amidst wood shavings and the sweet smell of softwood sawdust. Well, there’s always next year.

And so the garden shed, and not a little part of the house, is in now in full production mode. Seed packets and chitting potatoes everywhere; friends invited round on the pretext of dinner, finding themselves press-ganged into making paper seedling pots from strips of old newspaper. I’m pretty sure they don’t mind being caught up in our enthusiasm – there’s so much to look forward to. Having spent the whole winter browsing seed catalogues, now – at last! — we get to start into life those plants we've spent the dark, cold days dreaming of. Now, just a tiny seed, a bit of compost, and some water. In a few weeks time, a garden full of flowers, and fruit and vegetables...It’s plant magic, and it never fails to capture me with its wonder.

New logo

As I’m sure I’ve said somewhere else, when starting a new business venture, it does help to have a most excellent friend who also happens to be a fantastically talented graphic designer. Today after much discussion and many hours of work on Charlotte’s part, we got to see the new logo...and we think it’s just amazing.

We’d asked her to create for us something which represented our passion for what grow is about, in a way which would both appeal to our audience, and represent the personality of the company. What we got surpassed all expectations!

She’s created a marriage of classical typography with an original tableau, constructed from a riot of different leaf forms. This rich foliage softly envelops the company name, but in such a way that the clarity of the text is never compromised. The company descriptor, using a smaller size in the same typeface, appears offset to the side, balancing the whole effect. It’s at once organic and substantial; formal, yet with a touch of whimsy.

I can’t wait for everyone to see it.

February cheer

What an exciting week in the garden, though you wouldn’t know it on first inspection.

A drab, cold and grey February week in Kent — quite depressing, to be honest — with apparently nothing going on. But underground...what potential energy is building to a peak! It feels like the garden’s full of little incendiary devices everywhere...waiting to explode.

Already snowdrops and crocuses are livening up the scene across the neighbourhood — in my garden the tulip foliage is forcing its way out of the ground with no little force. Buds are swelling everywhere I look — from the hawthorn in the hedgerows I run past, to the red-stemmed Cornus alba ‘Sibirica’, annoyingly remind me I should have moved it to its planned final location over winter when it was dormant. I know it’s only a few weeks till those dual harbingers of spring in our garden, the snowy mespilus Amelanchier larmarckii and Emma’s Magnolia stellata, are resplendent in their full, fresh white-flowered glory.

And if that wasn’t enough, it’s nearly March, which means...seed time!

New beginnings

After many months of dreaming and planning – not to mention many a long conversation with friends and family – a date has been set for the launch of grow. A new gardening business in north west Kent, grow will launch in the first week of July 2011. Having given my current workplace a generously long notice period, they’ve responded in kind by extending their best wishes and support through the first few months, which is a bonus.

I’m now free to plan in earnest, drawing together the many scribbled notes from various notebooks into a clearly articulated vision, in the form of a business plan, a marketing strategy, and numerous supporting pieces of printed and online collateral. It’s a real opportunity to focus all my mental and physical energy into something in which I'm not only really passionate about, but also have the opportunity to influence.

Can’t wait.