Welcome to my blog!

Here, I journal the transformation of our tiny London backyard into a dream garden. I hope you will like it!

A dream garden, for me, is an outdoor space filled with rich colours and seductive scents, offering beautiful flowers, interesting textures and tasty morsels for our delectation. Also a source of nourishment for the local wildlife - birds, butterflies and bees. A space to enjoy with my SO, friends, family, and, of course, our cats. Somewhere to sit and have coffee, or even a meal, and a tiny patch of grass to lie on in the fleeting sunshine of the English summer. And, we're almost there...

Unless stated otherwise, all photos are by me (or my SO) and are clickable.

Thursday 30 September 2010

Autumn, shed

That is shed as in a garden storage structure, not as in the verb. Actually, we don't even have a shed, it's a garage. But it doesn't house the car. It's a 45% DIY workshop and a 20% garden shed. The remaining space is filled with rubbish we still haven't managed to take to the skip. But that is steadily reducing...

Some time ago, we spent half an hour clearing one side of the garage, and my wonderful SO built me a storage shelf in that space. He neatly sorted all the gardening tools and equipment that used to live in an old laundry basket and piled up on top of other things. Now, this is what my organised gardening storage looks like:


In the red box are all the hand trowels, shears and pruners (those really add up!), and in the white drawer is my collection of seed packets (and gathered/gifted seeds too). You may notice some herbage in the top right corner - that is where I've hung up bunches of herbs to dry, having recently harvested them before the cold weather kills them.

Regarding herbs, I was picking them all summer to use in cooking as and when required. As long as you don't remove more than 30% of the plant at any one time, you can harvest regularly. It's great to use the freshest herbs in your food! Some of my favourites were:
- parsley and mint in cucumber salad (with Greek yogurt)
- pot marjoram leaves in tomato salad
- rosemary, thyme and bay leaf* in any stew-type dish
- sage and thyme in meatballs, burgers and stuffing
- mints and lemon balm added to green/white tea

* Bay leaf actually has a stronger aroma after drying, so I was really using week-to-month old leaves in cooking

However, once the cold weather sets in, annual and soft (non-shrubby) perennial herbs will be destroyed. The perennials, like mint and lemon balm, will return in spring; but to enjoy them over winter we need to dry them. And that is what I've done with those herbs (including pineapple sage, which is really more like a type of mint). I've also trimmed the thyme and sage plants, and those trimmings are now in spice jars. Same with the fennel seedheads, though I have left some (together with lavender) to feed the birds in winter. I've finally let the parsley flower, just because I wanted to see if there are any bees still around; otherwise, I would have harvested the leaves, chopped them up finely and frozen them in an ice cube tray.

Courgettes may be useful...

... for things other than eating! ;)

Woman fights bear with courgette


Still, two things worth mentioning:

1. There are no bears in the UK

2. My courgettes are round, not 14-inchers. Maybe I should grow some of those next year, anyway... ;)

Wednesday 22 September 2010

And this is what we came back to:

Beautiful cherry tomatoes! I'd say we harvested about 50 from 3 plants of Gardener's Delight, and there's still maybe a dozen that I've left on, in hope of more clement weather. There is definitely a real sweet-acidic tomato taste (and scent), especially in those fruits that have at least started to go orange on the vine. I've picked a couple of green ones yesterday and left them to ripen on the window sill, as an experiment - I have a strong suspicion that all supermarket tomatoes are harvested when green and ripened indoors, maybe already in plastic packaging. No wonder there's hardly any taste to them!


The buddleja still has some wonderful honey-scented flowers. I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to deadhead the spent blooms, but I have a feeling there is no need for that. It's really a tough hedgerow shrub, not needing much mollycodling.


Also, more clematis flowers. This one, Ville de Lyon, has now had 3 flowering flushes (the first one being rather minimalistic, very soon after planting). I'm afraid that the other clematis, Multi Blue, has not survived being placed in front of a north-facing garage wall. Although, spring can bring surprises, so I won't be that quick to plant something else in that space yet.

Tuesday 21 September 2010

Guest garden

Other blogs have guest writers, my dream garden journal will have guest gardens featuring in it. :)

The first one is a Mediterranean garden in the fortress (Chateau) of Nice, south of France. I often think that having a sunny climate in Britain would be great. Well, maybe for the vitamin D and less SAD, but gardens would become much less interesting, visually. Or the water bills would go through the roof! In Nice, unless it's the Promenade where flower beds and palm trees are irrigated twice daily, the greenery is pretty greyish and uniform. There are a lot of plants with narrow, thick leaves which help reduce water evaporating under the relentless hot rays. Many of those, however, release scents that are much more pungent when warmed up: rosemary, sage, pine trees, cypresses...

There are also some flowering shrubs that do well under the Mediterranean sun. Oleanders in all colours (well, white, pink and red) are very popular in private gardens too. Here is a white one in the Chateau garden:


Many prickly succulents are also grown or naturalised in the area. In fact, there are a few public gardens fully dedicated to them. Here's a prickly pear and a Joshua tree:



And here's proof that shady area plants like ferns can also grow in the Med. Just find a waterfall grotto!


It's more than plants that maketh a garden, or some such olde wisdom. Well, here is a stunning mosaic depicting one of the oldest stories in the world, the Oddysey: