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As I wondered in our garden this week, I was thinking, ‘We really need to get more summer colour in our garden, this cutting garden idea is really not going to happen unless I really spend some time planning what we should put in our borders’.

But then as I stood there I thought, ‘Actually these mad bright purples and oranges of the buddleia and crocosmia, pretty much sum up my favourite hot hues of mid-summer.’ I dashed in, grabbed a pair of scissors and rammed my pickings into the nearest jug.

The loveliest thing is that these blooms have been cheering our kitchen all week. What a happy happenstance!

Recently I have seen some really pretty postcards for sale. There is something really special about getting a card in the post. I first became a huge fan at a very young age. When my Mum passed away, (we were little) a kind aunt wrote to my sister and me every week. We longed to get her cards, she had the most amazing handwriting, and even now I get a warm feeling when I see handwriting from old friends and family. The postcard combines image and signature hand in one instant hit which is so familiar and brings a smile to your face. I think that due to the public nature of the postcard you rarely get bad news. So when they pop through the letter box it is always a welcome sight.

When you get a card from a friend who has obviously thought about the image you would like, or in contrast sends you a card which is so ‘them’ it can cheer a whole day. I had a friend at University who was brilliant at sending little notes like that – you know it is you J. It is sad to say that my handwriting has deteriorated since my school days, my typing is much quicker, the old spell checker picks up more mistakes than my scatty brain. But when I have time, when someone comes to mind, I like to pop a postcard in the post as a sort of love token saying – ‘I’m thinking of you’, it is a way of passing on the thankfulness of a young child.

We are spending a few days with Little B at the beginning of the holidays this week so I’ll have a wee break from blogland  – but you never know I might get a few moments to thank my lucky stars, think fondly of good friends and then pen a few postcards. Have a lovely week x

This is such a wonderful time for hydrangeas in the garden. I know they are not loved by all, but I have always adored these blowzy beauties. This one I bought from my local florist. When I stepped in, they must have had about 400 blooms ready for a wedding. What a feast for the eyes. We do however have two rather impressive shrubs in our garden, and although much maligned as ‘sub-urban’ – I say ‘gorgeous’.

The really good thing is that they dry really  well and keep going in our house well into winter. The trick is to pick the blooms and put them in a vase without water, don’t let them touch a drop and they will dry into that wonderful faded blue an dark pink and cheer up any chilly autumnal afternoon.

We have just had the most wonderful weekend, staying in the glorious English Countryside with old friends. When the sun is shining, when there are the most beautiful roses smelling sweetly in the garden, when there is laughter, teasing, more laughter, crying and friendship… the world seems full of light and to be lived.

We visited the most wonderful country show on the Saturday and saw the ‘world famous’ White Helmet Motorcycle Display team. All our children stared, wrapped in amazement. The grown ups lapped up their innocent joy and to be honest were fairly impressed themselves with the stunt antics and various daring do. Then it was onwards and upwards to the fairground and the truly vintage helter -skelter. I don’t have a photo of this, due to a battery malfunction on the camera and the need to escort my rather keen son up the VERY steep stairs. Frankly at the top I wished I had paid the man £2 and grabbed my own mat. It would have been much easier and less terrifying to go down the slide rather than the internal stairs!

There were so many lovely moments – but what really made this weekend special is the inherited friendships. Three of us were at school together since we were 8 years old… we have known each other a very long time. Our husbands have known each other now for a substantial and formative amount of time, but it is the little friendships, the trust, the happiness and joy shared by our children which warms those cockles in your heart. Joy unbound, I don’t want to forget it.

Isn’t the evening light wonderful? After a lovely weekend we had supper outside with our little boy and the light in our garden just made me jump up and grab the camera.

This evening sunshine was a wonderful warm change from the intermittent rain we have ‘enjoyed’ over our British summer. But the lawn looks lush and there is little use for a watering can, so let us look on the bright side.

I was all the more excited because my parents had been visiting this weekend. Their garden is utterly beautiful. They are both dedicated and skilled gardeners and excellent at putting collections of plants together. When we visited the other weekend, it crossed my mind that one might actually pay to see a garden like theirs. Luckily they didn’t charge me admission fee!

Our patch is small and randomly planted compared to theirs. But you can’t imagine the enormous sense of pride I felt when my father said, ‘The garden is looking good. He had taken himself off for a small wander and looked at all the parts and was able to give me some good pointers. I smiled a little secret smile to my self. I did threaten that in October I would come down and raid their flower beds for plants that I admired. I think they thought I was joking…

Firstly, ‘thank you’ to all of you who said kind words about the magazine. I am very grateful and it is great to be able to share the fun with you.  Secondly it has been lovely to get the odd snatch of warm weather here in Blighty. Let’s not get too carried away because it is the ‘odd’ day, but lovely all the same.

If it was possible to capture the smell on a computer, these roses picked from the garden evoke everything we love and adore about a rose perfume. I have in my mind, that it would be so lovely to have a garden that would provide you with cut flowers for at least half of the year. For most of us, that is not achievable, firstly the size of the average garden makes in improbable, my gardening proficiency is not to that level and frankly if I were that good, when would I fit in knitting and crochet ? (+ my other much neglected responsibilities) Sometimes I hover in the garden conflicted as to whether I should leave a beautiful flower in the garden or bring it in to enjoy. Most of the time the garden looses, but I enjoy the flowers all the more.

When I was taking these few snaps, I wondered to myself ‘If I was a flower, I think I might be  this pink rose.’ Big B is not convinced…he is still dwelling on his final answer. It’s a silly thing, but what would you be?

I was out in the garden on Wednesday night and was struck again how as the seasons progress, certain colours dominate. Our garden is now a wonderful contrast of blue/purple against vibrant yellows. So lovely, so fresh. I can’t take any credit, but I can sit back and enjoy.

Since just after Christmas I have been sharing the joy of seeing cheery daffodils bringing spring into our house. It started with naughty shop bought ones, and then eventually MUCH later the real excitement of picking flowers that I had planted in our borders in the autumn. Sadly, I think their season is coming to an end, but in celebration here is a little collection of their bright faces.