Here’s the thing to do right now in this ridiculous weather…

Everything is late, which is fantastic news, because that means YOU can be late too!

Invest in some really gorgeous containers and fill them with prettiness that will last you until the first frosts.

This is all the gardening you may want to do this year.

I’ve made up four beauties – two large sweet pea containers, one pot of scented-leaved pelargoniums and one of lobelia.

For the ultimate sweet pea tower you need:

A large, deep container. I used the Arc Pot (shrub size)

A bag of well-rotted horse manure

A bag of peat-free multi-purpose compost

Some bits of polystyrene or some crocks

A climbing frame for your sweet peas. I used these willow runner bean poles

Some string

Sweet Pea seedlings

Method:

Scatter some crocks or polystyrene bits at the bottom of the pot. This will aid drainage, and avoid compost wasteage.

Now mix your manure and multi-purpose – half and half in a wheel barrow or really large bucket. This makes for a really rich compost that your sweet peas will love and adore.

Fill the pot so there is about 5cm between its rim and the surface of the compost

Now put the willow sticks evenly around the edge, (I put eight sticks in each pot), sticking them into the compost firmly, so that they go about half way down the pot, and get up on a chair or ladder to tie the tops together with string. You’ll notice that the thing already looks fabulous with no plants at all. One on each side of a doorway, or flanking a pathway, or framing a view and your garden is instantly transformed.

Plant your sweet pea seedlings carefully and with reverence, just inside each willow stick, by making a hole in the compost and easing each plant into place with as little root disturbance as possible. If your seedlings are not separate, then don’t try to separate them into singles. Instead, pull away a clump of two or three and plant that. Remember to firm them in gently, but without being too tentative about it.

Once there is a seedling per stick, your work is nearly done. Water the whole thing with the contents of a large watering can, with its rose attached. In a couple of weeks, you will need to start gently tieing them to your willow sticks.

Here are the sweet pea rules:

Never let the compost dry out. Ever.

Feed weekly with a general purpose liquid fertiliser (I use seaweed extract), and then when they are about to flower, switch to weekly feeding with tomato food.

Pick the flowers assiduously and don’t let them turn into seeds (which look like hairy mange-tout).

Put vases of sweet peas by your bed, at your desk, in your downstairs loo and put extra ones in your hair. Give posies of sweet peas to every single one of your friends, all summer long.

For a scented pelargonium pot fit for the chicest terrace you need:

One large low container. I used The Arc Rosemary pot.

John Innes No 2 compost

Peat-free multi-purpose compost

a few crocks

Scented-leaved pelargoniums. I used 6x Lady Grey Plymouth, and one Mrs Stapleton. I also love these collections, if you can’t choose. This will create a cloud effect in the container, which I love. These Pelargoniums come from a specialist nursery and are absolutely beautifully grown. They will last right through the winter if you have space to bring the pot indoors, or you can take cuttings from them and have the same thing, and more next year for absolutely nothing (I’ll show you how later in the year). These will arrive at the end of June, which is plenty of time for a fantastic display, but of course, if you absolutely can’t wait, then get some from your local nursery. NB you want scented-leaved pelargoniums, rather than zonal pelargoniums, which are lovely in themselves, but not quite so SPECIAL.

Method:

Mix the compost up so that it’s two thirds John Innes no 2 and one third multi-purpose, scatter a few crocks in the bottom of the container and fill with your compost mixture, to about 5cm below the rim of the pot.

Now plant your babies around the perimeter. Six plants around the edge of the Arc Rosemary pot, with one in the centre is perfect.

Finally , water the whole thing in well with half a large can of water, using the rose so you don’t dislodge compost.

Here are the scented-leaved pelargonium rules:

Feed weekly with a liquid tomato food

Deadhead with verve

Use the leaves and flowers in cakes (click here), ice cream (click here) and drinks (just crush or wizz up with sugar, or add to ice cubes)

The third pot, another Arc Rosemary, was filled with lobelia for more clouds of fluff (I like pouffy things). The shops are full of this type of suff right now…nemesia, diascia, erigeron. I have no idea when any of this will get going and flower…the weather being so extraordinarily ODD and confusing – but sumptuous, technicolour pictures WILL follow, I promise (even if it happens in November).

Confession number 1: I’m not a lawn girl….I prefer the ragged look.

But when you’ve planted a garden that is rich in perennials and poor in evergreen shrubs, something’s gotta do the job of calming and soothing….

Something’s gotta be all flat and smooth and un-complicated.

That job falls to my lawn…and me.

Confession number 2: I hate to mow. With a passion. I hate it.

Confession number 3: I love HAVING MOWED. With a passion. I love it.

So, you see my problem.

Saturday

I decided to turn over a new leaf this year, and do stuff to my lawn that I’d never previously bothered to contemplate…see if it improves my lawn…and my life. So this time, I tried out a few tools that I would previously snubbed as unnecessary.

They turned out to be a revelation.

I chose the first day this year that mowing was possible, (last Saturday) and I got to work. (I say that, but what I actually mean is that my Hunk got to work, with me, annoyingly, directing him, because I have a bun in the oven, and, naturally, can’t do ANYTHING).

…except have picnics and laze around.

Sunday

Here’s what we did, step by step.

You will need the following tools..see the picture below that looks like something out of Zombie apocalypse.

1. Fiskars Clippers

2. Mower

3. Spring tine rake

4. Lawn aerator – either this or the pogo-stick-like thing on the left in the picture below (available soon)

5. Corkscrew weeder

6. Half-moon edger

7. A bit of brawn…(a husband is good)

The tools: Left to right Aerator (pogo style), Fiskars edging clippers, Spring tine Rake, De Wit Corkscrew weeder, Crocus aerator, De Wit half-moon edger.

Step 1.

We clipped the long grass around all my raised beds and containers placed in the lawn. I had never bothered to do this before and it makes a HUGE difference, as the mower never manages to get the straggly bits right up against the sides of things. The blades on this clipper can turn 360°, depending on what side you’re doing, and what hand you want to use. Do this first thing, before you mow, and then the mower can just hoover the grass up. This is totally essential now, to my lawn arsenal.

Step 2.

Mowing. Unless you have a petrol mower (cough, splutter) It’s really useful to have an assistant to help you keep the cable out of the way as you go. This speeds things up hugely. Mine is a Bosch electric mower and it’s always done a great job. We started mowing in the morning, when the grass wasn’t yet dry, and you can see the results of this mistake; the grass doesn’t get hoovered up as efficiently and you are left with lumps of it to rake up. This was okay, as we were scarifying anyway, but it’s definitely worth waiting until grass is bone dry for low-effort mowing.

Step 3.

Scarifying. Use an old-fashioned leaf rake. The important thing here is to put your back into it. NO SLACKING! You have to remove the thatch from the lawn (all the dead bits underneath, and all the moss) by raking hard in one direction, and then doing the same at a 90° angle. It’s hard work, and leaves the lawn looking a bit sad and patchy, but well worth it, because it removes competing moss, and creates space for air, water and light to reach the grass.

Step 4.

Aerating the lawn is, so far, not an exact science (there being no official scientific evidence in its favour)…but the experience of a plethora of gardeners and professional green-keepers speak in its favour. It involves making lots of holes in the lawn, letting carbon dioxide out, and oxygen in. Here is my hard-working dad using the Crocus tool, which he found very easy, and pleasant in the hand. Once you have pushed the aerator into the soil, you need to manipulate it a bit, pushing the handle back and forth slightly, to enlarge the holes you are making.

The other aerator was wielded like a weapon by my Hunk. He would stab it into the ground and then jump on top of it…(I will spare you a picture of this)…all rather alarming to watch, but he got the job done pretty quickly. This aerator has much longer spikes and it will be interesting to see if it makes any difference.

Step 5.

Edging. My mum and I used the half-moon edger to create a neat border edge. This was utterly transformational (as you can see, the borders are a complete mess, but the mown lawn, with crisp edges makes the whole thing look under control and pretty much acceptable (in fact, it’s a little TOO tidy for my liking and I can’t wait for the plants to soften the whole thing)…much much better than before though. I enjoyed the whole edging thing rather too much.

Step 6.

Removing dandelions. This corkscrew weeder is another tool I won’t be letting go of. Absolutely brilliant for removing dandelions from the lawn (and I have many), as well as pesky, perennial weeds from the borders (I have a lot of green alkanet in this garden). Basically, anything with a stubborn tap-root is dealt with quickly and easily with this. I love using it in the same way that some people love a dealing with a blocked pore. I shall say no more.

Step 7.

Admire. Gardening is all about contrast. I can have messy, out-of-control flowerbeds…I can be utterly slatternly, do hardly any horticultural husbandry and basically get away with murder, because it’s all framed by something orderly, and calm.

My next job is to feed the whole thing with this stuff, (don’t use stuff with added weed killer if you value your children or dogs) …and deal with a few bare patches using this stuff. I will report back with pictures to let you know whether it all made a difference. In the meantime, there will be more picnics and lazing around.

I’m away, sadly this Easter, and therefore cannot indulge my passion for egg-dyeing, nest-building and posy-making (have a look here for some Easter frippery)…

…but I’m loathe to leave my garden without leaving something for the birds, who are having a rotten time of things with the weather as it is right now. So I’ve made fat-balls…I know, I know, they’re in the shape of hearts, and almost unbearably cutesy…but that’s just me…dying to put on a spread for somebody.

You can of course buy fat balls, but they are so simple to make (and a bit of fun, especially if you have bored children kicking around).

To make fat balls you need:

Some fat – I use a block of ordinary lard, but b def suit works too.

Some birdseed – I use RSPB approved from a packet, but honestly, you can use your own scraps and leftovers (if you’re the kind of person with enough space to keep stuff like that). Small bits of stale bread, cooked bacon and dried fruit are all good additions.

A cookie cutter, (or not!)

A saucer or something from which to deliver your goodies.

Method

Heat the lard until it is melted but not bubbling, then pour in about half the amount of scraps or birdseed. Mix and turn out into a shallow dish. Put this in the fridge, or outside (I mean, it’s cold enough isn’t it!), until the stuff has hardened enough for you to play with it. Then stuff it into your moulds, or shape it into balls with your hands, and put it back in the fridge to harden some more. Alternatively, you can just pour the mixture into plastic cups (or china teacups like this) and hang them from trees. The birds will thank you for it.

As for location, I am loving this VERY smart bird table. It comes ready painted; all you need to do is screw some nails in (which I managed with the help of my four-year-old)

You need to site bird-tables somewhere with a bit of privacy, and ideally, move them around a bit, so that the detritus which will inevitably collect around the base doesn’t build up too much.

Here it is with fat balls

…And then there is this ingenious thing, which doubles both as a fat-ball holder, and wool dispenser. I feel better about hanging this up than almost anything I have done this year…What could be more wonderful, in this chilly spring, than to find a bit of warm British wool with which to line your nest?

I’m getting more and more into watching the wildlife, and so I got myself one of these nesting boxes.

They have a hidden camera inside and all you do is wire the thing up to receive live images of what’s going on in the nest. I painted mine pink (sorry), but its natural colour is pale brown (FSC certified timber), and it comes with a long cable, and an adaptor to plug into your telly. I am crossing my fingers madly that some bird or other won’t mind a pink house.

Find more goodies over here, and I PROMISE to notify you (screaming from the rooftops) should someone decide to nest in my box!

I’m not good with prolonged periods of cold

…I’m one of those weakling people who get chilblains and has to wear a coat indoors. This is the reason why I have so many favourite winter plants; they act as a lure, to get me out (gloved and scarved and looking like a Yeti) into the fresh air. Scent is crucial here…if there’s no scent then I’ll be content to look at plants from my window.

But once I’m out, brazier lit and ready to swallow prickly prunings, I’m reminded of how wonderful this strange transition time of late winter to early spring is.

The garden is not hibernating – it is bursting into life, and so I get going, clearing, tidying, mulching (well, actually, my Hunk does the mulching) and getting generally excited about what’s to come.

My snowdrops have seduced me the most

- transplanted three years ago from two terracotta pots which used to live on my balcony at my old flat, they have taken to their new home under my apple tree, and have spread beautifully. I have no idea what sort they are. I like to think that I’m the kind of person who’d take care to establish a huge colony of something rare and gorgeous, but the reality is, that as I get older, I care far less for such things. Experience tells me that winter can be cruel…and that having snowdrops makes it gentler somehow; so I don’t give a fig what kind they are, as long as they are there…in profusion. Consequently I’ve put my order in for this lovely little package of 15 snowdrops in the green, plus 10 extra FREE. I know I’ll be glad of them come next year.

I pick my galanthus like crazy (because I’m not in the garden enough to appreciate them every day) and have them by the bed, like rare jewels.

I always use an empty spice jar for them; the perfect size and shape, and also nice enough, and cheap enough to give away on a whim, filled with snow-white loveliness. I collect them now, and have amassed thirty or so, which I plan, one day to turn into some exquisite hanging installation, filled with tiny flower buds. Until that day, I’ve rigged up a couple with some thin copper wire, so that I can hang them off a picture pin on the wall (away from little fingers). This is the easiest thing in the world to do, and brings your snowdrops up to eye-level, with a background to boot, so that you can properly understand just how utterly gorgeous they are.

You need:

One spice jar, empty

Two long pieces of thin copper wire, roughly 45cm in length

Method

Double each piece of wire, find the middle of the first piece, place it at the neck of the jar and wind around a couple of times. Twist tightly to secure and do the same with the other bit of wire, securing this one opposite the first. Keep twisting the loose ends of the two piece of wire, and use them to create a loop above the jar, twisting them around each other to secure.

That’s it. You’re done.

Masses of these, hung on a wall, or suspended from a ceiling would be perfect for a party. No florists required!

I’ve been tidying my potting bench area…

to get ready for March and April which are really busy seed-sowing and container gardening months, and put up one of these brilliant wall storage units which I use to dump useful stuff to which I need quick, easy access. I love the galvinised steel which recedes nicely in an outdoor space, whilst still looking chic and purposeful.

I can think of a few houses where these would look quite at home indoors too – they are the perfect size for sorting post, and deep enough to hide all those strange bits and bobs which get thrown on the nearest surface when family members come through the door (I’m thinking of mittens, hats, wallets, earphones, spare change…whatever). Personalise with the smart label and you have a pretty foolproof system for making sure everyone knows where their stuff is…just a thought.

For more ingenious storage ideas go here

Being a windowsill gardener at heart…

…there are certain rituals that I find hard to break when it comes to the beginning of the year. January’s necessary austerity, post Christmas, and a yearning for brightness and light leads me to start a container spring-clean.

Out with the old, I think, and I promise myself solemnly that I’ll cut down on the number of containers I have this year…but it seldom works. Once an old wrecked, sad-looking left-over petunia is wrenched from its pot (…in January…yes, I AM that much of a garden slattern) I want to replace it immediately with something else…and so the cycle continues.

One of my favourite gardening projects in January (and I’m not sure you can really call it gardening, as it’s all done in-doors) is to sow some salad.

I do it religiously and with fervour, anticipating pale green shoots and fresh flavours, and no, I don’t have a green house…I do it all inside my north-facing kitchen windowsill and that does me fine, thank you.

I love sowing a pot of mixed leaves to yield microgreens (basically as close to instant gratification as you can get in gardening), and some basil, which is THE taste of summer, and I also love fresh cut-and-come-again leaves, and for these I try to sow every few weeks (when I remember) until autumn. Obviously, once the weather gets a bit nicer I move the whole operation outside, but it never takes up more space than a tabletop. This year I was sowing with a toddler, so I included a pot of pea-shoots, which are easy to handle, and I also sowed two little long toms with coriander and dill. Instructions are below (along with inticing pictures of basil)

…but talking of tabletops…

I’ve been wanting to sing out in favour of these very beautiful sustainable hardwood pieces of furniture. They are the most fabulously modeish shade of grey (which is the wood’s natural hue) and solid without being clunky, which is a pretty difficult balance to strike.

Mine is a folding table and chair - very easy to put up and down, and quite the most comfortable small chair I have sat on in any garden…it doesn’t need a cushion (although it looks pretty with one) and with a longevity that will put other garden furniture in the shade. The other major plus is that it folds flat and unobtrusively enough to be stored against a wall in the shed or anywhere undercover over winter, which really is the perfect solution if you’re looking to keep garden furniture looking at its best. I used the table indoors a couple of times over Christmas as I needed more surfaces to put things on and it looked perfectly at home.

…A close-up of THAT GREY, along with the prettiest of all tea-light holders, which the Crocus powers-that-be assure me will be back in stock very soon.

***

So, for the ultimate stay-indoors January gardening project – Sowing greens and herbs

You need:

Packets of seed

Terracotta pots – I like wide shallow ones, always with their own saucer, but obviously you can do this in an old ice-cream tub, punched with holes

Some seed compost. You can either buy this ready made or you can mix multi-purpose with a handful of horticultural grit

A sieve with big holes – for making fine compost to sprinkle over the top of your seeds (or you can do as I do and crumble it between your palms)

A squirty bottle that emits a fine mist

Method

Fill your pot with compost and tap it down gently, leaving a couple of centimetres between the top of the compost and the rim of the pot. Now water the whole thing so that the compost is saturated, and then dry your hands. Sprinkle your seeds thinly over the surface of the compost. ‘Thinly’, for me, means about a seed every half-centimetre, but honestly, don’t fret about it, because you’re aiming to get lots of baby leaves, not stonking great fully-grown plants. If you decide you want to thin your seedlings out later for larger plants, then you can do that.

Now cover your seeds with sieved or crumbled compost – about another half-centimetre and pat down reassuringly. Squirt the surface so that it glistens and wait, patiently, for green shoots to appear. This will happen sooner than you think. You can harvest them as seedlings, or as I said, thin them out and wait a while to pluck. Up to you, but if microgreens are your thing, then sow another pot immediately and start the process again, to keep you in baby leaves for as long as you desire.

It’s that time of year, and I’m already pillaging the garden for christmassy stuff.

I don’t have any holly (an omission I intend to rectify next year, with VERVE), but I do have ivy, and lots of it, along a wall, and it is one of my favourite things in the garden. As well as clothing and softening, it provides sanctuary for the loveliest and most important of birds and insects, and it flowers dutifully and beautifully every year, just at the right time for me to pick (judiciously) and deck my halls.

You can make candle pots with any small container, from little terracotta pots to pretty tea-light holders. Just increase the size of your candle to correspond with the size of the pot. If you’re using clear tea-light holders (and these would be fabulous), then simply poke a few leaves down the sides to hide the oasis.

Photo: Jill Mead

To make candle pots you need:

Pots

Candles

Oasis (available from most florists)

Toothpicks

masking tape

sprigs of Christmas greenery (ivy, holly, bay, eucalyptus, or anything evergreen that floats your boat).

Photo: Jill Mead

Method:

Cut the oasis roughly to size with a knife, shaving the edges to taper it slightly depending on the shape of your container, then soak the pieces for half an hour or so, until they are saturated. Pop a piece of soaked oasis into each container and set aside.

Now make up your candles. Stick three toothpicks around the bottom of each candle with masking tape and push the candle into the centre of the oasis in each pot.

Finally, poke your sprigs of greenery into the oasis, covering it entirely, until you are happy with the arrangement. The pots should last a couple of weeks in a cool room.

And now to something a lot more practical…

I’ve got to the stage now when my second reaction (after delight) when I’m given anything unwieldy is “Where am I going to put it?”.  I’m not sure when this started, but I do remember, aged eight-ish, asking my mother what she would like for Christmas and getting the answer “I’d like a hook, to hang things on”, spoken in a plaintive tone which made me shrug and go out and to find a hook smartish.  I’m therefore taking the fact that this is what I want for Christmas, as a sign that I am finally a proper grown-up.

Easy to put up (even for me) and a perfect fit for these very beautiful essential tools – the ultimate, classic present for anyone who loves their garden. The handles are soft and comfortable to the touch, and they come in digging sizes, border sizes, and lady sizes, so there’s something for everyone.

And lastly….MORE storage I know, but this thing has been one of the best additions to my life for a long time. It was originally intended to store my apples, but after a bumper crop last year, my tree produced a grand total on ONE fruit this time around, so It’s been holding all my fruit and veg (there are three layers) neatly and the extra deep basket at the bottom means there is space for really big things too. This will be extra useful over Christmas when I won’t have any spare fridge space, and I’m using the top tray to carry pots of seedlings around. Enough said. I’m enamoured with it. I shall shut up now.

It’s GOT to be fingerless gloves, and stripy scarves, and hot chocolate and TOFFEE APPLES.

I’ve been using this fire pit pretty much every day…it is beautifully multi-purpose

You can toast marsh-mallows on it (as seen here)

You can sit beside it with a mug of sweet tea, incinerating all manner of naughty weeds that can’t go in your compost

You can put it on your terrace, and arrange cushions around it, and drink soup from deep bowls with your friends

You can sizzle sausages and burgers on it, and because it is round, you can even make paella.

You can put it on a table so people can have drinks around it, or on the floor, where you can squat over it and poke periodically at your food or whatever.

It’s light enough to move around easily too, and comes with a small grate which you set at the bottom of the bowl, onto which you put your coal or kindling….

…and then a larger grill that sits on top, where you can put your food or pan.

I made my toffee apples from Debora Robertson’s delightful new book ‘Gifts from the Garden‘, and added salt, because I like it.

It’s the simplest thing in the world…and no, you don’t need a thermometer.

Just get some small apples (these were James Grieve) and wash them really well in very hot water, and dry them too, with a clean tea towel so as to rub off any coating on the skin. Stick them with lolly sticks or apple twigs, and lay them ready on a tray lined with greaseproof paper.

Now put 100g caster sugar and 120g demerara sugar in a non-stick pan with 100ml water and warm gently until the sugar has dissolved. Add a teaspoon of cider vinegar, two tablespoons of golden syrup and 25g butter to the pan, and bring to a rolling boil.

Now get a glass of cold water and put it near to the proceedings. Keep boiling without stirring and every now and then, take a tiny smidgen of toffee mixture from the pan with a teaspoon and drop it in the cold water. When the droplet turns into a little hard ball of amber instantly, the toffee is ready.

Have a saucer-full of flaky sea-salt handy, and roll the apples into the toffee (tilting the pan to get good coverage). Sprinkle instantly with sea salt, and lay the apples on the tray to harden.

Now eat.

P.S. Instead of salt, you could melt some white and dark chocolate and dribble it over each apple.

I’m loving Autumn…and all the more because it is an ‘in-between season’, like Spring (and we didn’t have much of *that* did we!).

Apart from being my BIRTHDAY (which makes it the bestest month in the world), October has become sweet pea sowing time.

I used to do this in the Spring, but that was before I had a proper garden, and the space to store stuff.

Totally and utterly fallen in love, I have, with this delicious potting bench -

…pretty much the ultimate present for any gardener. I sowed my little sweet pea seeds on here, in the sunshine, and into terracotta pots, with pretty wooden labels and I am convinced that they will be my best batch yet because the DOING of it was so pleasurable. The bench is the perfect size to fit in the teeniest of spaces (I have mine in a very small shed) and you can store everything you need on the shelves, and inside the table. I repurposed an old wine box for my compost, and this lovely metal basket that I used in the summer for my roses was the perfect thing for my potting grit. It has useful little hooks on the side, too, for hanging tools.

And where to keep these precious babies? Here is a perfect little cold frame - it’s lightweight and well-made, and not too big.

They come in a set of two, and they stack inside one another and disappear in a corner until I need them…discreet cold frames, you could call them. My sweet peas are arranged inside a tray so that I can water them from beneath, and they will be perfectly happy here over the winter, with the lid up, mostly, until I can plant them out in the garden next spring.

You can get the low-down on sowing sweet peas from either of my books (or, let’s face it, the back of a seed packet). I use ordinary peat-free multi-purpose compost mixed in with some horticultural grit, and I push them in to the soil about 1.5 cm deep. I then cover the pot with grit and label them, and that’s it.

Last year I used some stunners from Easton Walled Gardens which you can find out about here. I’m repeating some of those this year, along with a packet of bog-standard ‘Spencer Mixed’ from the garden centre, and some from Higgledy Garden called ‘Bouquet Mix’ *rubs hands gleefully*.

September is a special month.

It has a particular feel…a particular smell. I can sow seeds, and plant bulbs, and rip things out of my tired borders. I can eat porridge, and wear tights.

…Strangely, I also feel well within my rights to buy new shoes – a throwback, perhaps from being used to acquiring new stuff in the spirit of ‘back to school’.

Anyhow, this week I sowed two little beds full of hardy annuals – you know the sort, Nigella, cornflowers, ammi etc. It’s the only way to get these flowers early, and cheaply. As I’ve said many times before, thinking about sowing seeds takes about ten times as long as actually doing the deed. Having mulled it over for weeks, I finally dug over the beds and flung in the little seeds within one very pleasant afternoon.

Once the sowing is done though, the real work starts; namely keeping the things alive and growing.

This, for me involves only one thing in the first instance, and that is keeping the gang of neighbourhood cats off my seedbeds. I love cats, I really do, but they ARE prone to coming into the garden and using it as a loo. I’m sort of relaxed about this most of the time – I understand that you can’t tell a cat where to relieve itself, and I also understand that if I wasn’t relaxed about it, I’d turn into a sour-faced person, like Mrs Twit, because there’s absolutely nothing I can do about keeping them out. I CAN though, keep them off certain places, with clever placement of obstacles.

These cloches are absolutely perfect for the job. They are sturdy and have spikes at the base, so you can push them into the soil. They are also beautiful, and my seedbeds now look like an ancient, minarette-filled landscape.

I need more of these – they are going on my Christmas list. And don’t worry about them taking up space, because they stack, beautifully.

And so to more clochery -

because I’m always drawn to anything that does the job of framing, elevating and making the ordinary extraordinary.

I found this lovely bell which is at the moment holding my lemons as a dress rehearsal for its role in displaying clove-stuck oranges at Christmas. I should say here, that you can also use it to put over delicate plants in the garden.

And saving the best until last…

…this stunning hexagonal cloche with a removable lid is taking care of a treasured streptocarpus that wouldn’t normally be completely happy outside.

This is big enough to act like a mini-greenhouse, for keeping precious plants outside over the winter when you don’t have room on your windowsill. By the way, now is the perfect time for some therapeutic indoor gardening, and streptocarpus are just the most fascinating and awe-inspiring lesson in propagation if you fancy a little foray into plant-geekery. There are instructions on how to do leaf cuttings here.