little green fingers

NGS, garden openings and last minute plant sales

I need to be better at filling in forms. A lot better.

Growing up I never realised this was a skill I needed to perfect, but it appears that a) there are more forms to fill in than I ever imagined possible and b) I am appalling at it.

I have never managed to complete a passport application on the first attempt. My children have very nearly missed half a dozen school trips because the paperwork never made it. Oh and then there was the flight I missed because I put the wrong name down for my ticket.

And now there's the NGS (National Gardens Scheme). I'm opening my garden this weekend for the second year running and probably being a little too relaxed about the whole affair. In fact, I only looked at my pack of information just over a week ago.

"Nice posters", I thought. "Really eye-catching", I thought. And then I noticed something in the bottom right hand corner. Three key words. "Plants. For. Sale."

Really?

I mean really!?

When in my form filling stupidity did I tick that box?

Still, the one benefit to so-often messing up is that I've become very skilled at getting myself out of trouble. So last weekend became the weekend I introduced my children to the glorious word of "potting on".

To be fair to me, I didn't force them into it, just enticed them with the idea that they could make a lot of money by finding as many self-sown young plants as possible in the garden and carefully lifting and replanting them into compost-filled plastic pots.

I might even have mentioned that the money would be going to the NGS rather than into their piggy banks, I really can't remember.

Anyway, two hours later we had 200 plants happily settling into their new homes and two children rather proud of their efforts.

So do come along at the weekend. We can now officially offer you the plant sale element - as well as kids' garden games on the lawn, tea and homemade cakes and, of course, the Great Sylvanian Hunt. Oh, and you might even be interested in seeing the garden (and the two others - the Old Vicarage and Old Farm Cottage - covered by the ticket price).

Pot snails, press trips and giant moles

"Christian!  NON!"

There is something almost pleasurable about hearing a child reprimanded when you know that, for once, it's got nothing to do with you.  Instead I was able to smile knowingly at Christian's beleaguered parents in the gardens at Villandry with a look that I hoped conveyed just enough "I feel your pain" sympathy and not too much of the "...but I'm so pleased he's not with me".

Yes, last weekend I was in France on a four day, child-free press trip to the Loire Valley. It's OK. You’re allowed to hate me.

I had explained to the family that this was work but the looks that came my way made it very clear that no-one was buying this story and that if I didn't come back with at least their bodyweight in chocolate, I would not be welcome.

To add insult to injury I was planning to write a piece on child-friendly gardens in the region but without actually taking any of my kids with me.

As it turns out, the gardens we visited were historically fascinating (Chateau de Chenonceau) and beautifully atmospheric (Chateau de Valmer), boasted world leading plant collections (Chateau de Bourdaisiere) and the most impressively vast and downright gorgeous potager I've ever seen (Chateau de Villandry), but child-friendly?  Not so much.

It’s not that children wouldn’t be welcome – they most certainly would.  And, of course, these gardens all offered plenty of space for running around and screaming in a manner designed to fray the nerves of anyone in earshot – always one of the top five favourite activities for my own kids.  However, they were all just a bit too... grown up.

Thankfully, we were also taken to Chateau du Rivau – somewhere I’d written about before, but which I’d never had the chance to visit  - and here, most unusually, keeping the kids entertained seems to be top of the agenda.

First of all, it could easily be mistaken for Sleeping Beauty’s palace – it’s reminiscent of the Disney Castle, but without the worry that a seven foot tall Goofy may round the corner at any minute. And if the kids needed to get more in the mood, you can even hire princess and knight costumes in the Chateau’s shop.

Everywhere there are things for children to spot.  Some of the ‘art’ and installations might not be to everyone’s taste, but the garden itself creates enough intrigue to keep kids entertained for hours. Beginning with a courtyard which married squash and pumpkin displays with giant moles and real life strutting peacocks, you walked through garden after garden, each with something to thrill the under 10s: plant pot snails, tree necklaces, hammocks galore, ogres' hideaways, giraffe see saws, Rapunzel's tower, giant legs walking through the woods, Alice in Wonderland's maze and garden looking glasses, gnomes at home, oversized wellies and gigantic plant pots.

Best of all, it's very near to most of the other Loire Valley gardens and only 40km from Villandry.  If only all parents knew, things could be so different.

"Christian! NON! Nous tu permettrons d'aller au château du Rivau. Maintenant, relâchez le chou. EN CE MOMENT!"

 

Yorkshire runs, Harlow Carr and lattes

I have started running.  Well, I say running, but what I am actually doing could best me described as 'ralking' - more walking than running.  On day one I was almost mown down by a car as I couldn't hear it's engine over the noise of my wheezing. Admittedly, after a week I have almost graduated to 'wunning' but it's a slow progress and highlights what I have come to realise - I'm a Southern wuss.

Nothing underlines this fact as much as our annual visit to friends up in Yorkshire.  We were there a couple of weeks ago and were met by Jane with the words "sorry, I was just having a rest on the sofa - I did a 20 mile run this morning." 20 miles? That shouldn't even be described as a 'run'.  A run does not do it justice. It should at least merit 'an odyssey at speed'.  But no, Up North, 20 miles at pace across the moor is just a 'run'.  And Andy's 'bike ride' the next morning was also just 'a bike ride' even though I suspect he crossed a county line or two before rendezvousing with us at RHS Harlow Carr...

...which is what I really meant to talk to you about.  I probably should have mentioned this last week, but I got all distracted with emergency bikinis and Mr Bloom's cheekbones. As you do.

Yes, in my not-at-all-regular-and-possibly-just-this-minute-made-up series of "Garden visits with children" I thought I'd focus on Harlow Carr, the RHS's Yorkshire garden and a surprisingly welcoming spot for families.

Best bits for kids

Stamping - each of the children was given a Plant Hunter Passport which was a great idea - mostly because it guided them around the garden, challenging them to spot different plants and undertake various activities in the geographically themed sections of the garden.  There were even strange hole-puncturing implements to stamp your passport with in each zone.

Of course, my three children managed to drop, lose or argue over whose passport was whose, but I'm sure 'normal' children would get on fine with these - and it does allow adults to see the whole garden before being dragged off to child-centric features.

Craggle Top Tree House - one of those 'child-centric features', hidden away in a wooded area of the garden, this is a new feature in the garden and offers, not only the tree house ("it's not a tree house, it's just on stilts" - Ava) but also rope and log walkways. Oh, and there are a couple of handily located picnic benches for adults who have decided they really need to sit and recover with a coffee.

Log Maze - Personally, I think 'maze' is overdoing it - the challenge would be not to find the centre - but still a fun place to play chase with the children.  Or to watch Jane chase the children (she runs 20 miles people, this was just a short warm down exercise and, you know, that latte wasn't going to drink itself).

Garden games -  large wooden versions of classic games have been placed on a lawned area so the kids were able to play snakes and ladders, Jenga, Connect 4... while I watched, with a coffee.

Log ness monster - what came first, the feature or the pun? Logs that can be walked upon, up and down until arrival at the monsters head (which looked slightly cock-eyed having had children walk over it for months on end).

Bird hide - although possibly not best visited directly after a scream-infested game of chase.

Kitchen garden - with sweet pea tunnels, snaking pathways and even a few chickens.

Bettys Tea Room - so OK, more for me than the kids, but it's Bettys so I couldn't leave it out.

We were there three hours and could easily have stayed another two without running out of things to see, but then my daughter did what many nine-year-old girls do - became possessed by Beelzebub - and we cut short our visit.

Thankfully, next week I shall be able to give you another tour of child friendly gardens as I'm off to the Loire Valley.  I shall not be taking any actual children of course - although I might bring along the latte.

NGS open gardens, flying gazebos and Sylvanian hunts

So we survived our first NGS opening relatively unscathed.

In all honesty I would have liked more visitors, but considering we were all wrapped up in jumpers and one person was designated the role of “holding onto the gazebo so it doesn’t actually fly off’, we probably did OK.

Also, I feel fairly confident that we will be the only NGS opening this year that offered visitors a Great Sylvanian Hunt.

Yes, this was as much the kids’ event as mine and they decided to give the public the thing they felt sure they wanted– the opportunity to hunt miniature, over-priced and incongruously dressed animal figures. So we had gardening Sylvanians in the greenhouse, picnicking Sylvanians beneath the strawberries, a Sylvanian hospital amongst medicinal herbs, Sylvanian Santa by our potted Christmas tree, terrified Sylvanians in the dinosaur garden and then, for no other reason than a surfeit of tiny transportation, Sylvanians rowing beneath a bench, driving out from behind some logs and beginning a death-defying motorcycle jump from high up in our insect shelter.

And there was cake.

What more can you want?

Pyjama days, high heels and school gardens

Image source: NGS/Palatine Primary School

It's day three of the school holidays and today we're having a pyjama day. For those unfamiliar with this concept, it is a day when we don't bother getting out of our pyjamas (creative nomenclature is not our speciality).  This looks quite sweet when you are a kid, but gives me the appearance of being in the midst of a breakdown. Age is cruel.

It also shows what a difference a week makes.  Last Wednesday at this time I was skipping up to London in a vintage tea dress and heels so high I couldn't walk pain-free for the next three days (in retrospect, the skipping was probably a mistake). The occasion was the launch of the National Garden Scheme.

To any of you unfamiliar with the NGS it was begun 85 years ago by nice ladies in puffed sleeves and flowing skirts who thought it would be a jolly good wheeze to open private gardens to the public and raise money for charity. Today it generates about £2.5 million a year for a range of charities and has over 3700 gardens in its famous Yellow Book (which will also be available as an App - another jolly good wheeze).  This proves something I have always known - never underestimate a woman with puffed sleeves.

However, the NGS has always had a certain 'image' in my book - it is the sort of image that conjures up reading glasses, driving shoes and a firm belief that no good music was composed after 1950.  But the times they are a-changin (you see, right there, is a reason to dump the 1950 rule for a start).  The organisation itself seems keen to get younger gardeners visiting.  Most let children in for free (having said that, I'm not, but that's partly because we are specifically putting on lots of entertainment aimed at kids so, quite frankly, 50p is an absolute bargain!)

Also, there are a number of schools opening their gardens.  I love this idea.  Not only will the children involved have an enormous sense of pride to have paying visitors admiring their plot, but it will be a great place for families to visit and, hopefully, get inspired.

If you are tempted to get out and about garden visiting this year, here are a few of the school gardens opening their gates:

Brighstone Primary School (Isle of Wight) - part of a group opening on Sunday 24th June

Cefn Cribwr Primary School (Glamorgan) - part of a group opening on Sunday 10th June

Cheddington Combined School (Bucks) - part of a group opening on Sunday 24th June

Hayton C of E Primary School (Cumbria) - part of a group opening on Sunday 15th July

Heronsbridge School (Bridgend, Glamorgan) - opening Sunday 24th June

Overthorpe J, I & N School (Thornhill, Dewsbury, Yorks) - opening Sunday 15th July

Palatine School Gardens (Worthing, Sussex) - opening Sunday 1st July

Rhydypenau Primary School (Glamorgan) - part of a group opening Sundays 13 May and 15 July

St John RC Primary School (Beverley, Yorks) - opening Saturday 7th July

And, best of all, they will all be serving cake.  Because an NGS garden opening is nothing without the cake.

French gardens, giant watering cans and pine cone moustaches

 

Sometimes I worry, we English don't really like children... or at least we English gardeners. I have seen "kids" mentioned in lists of "common garden pests", most places I visit spend half their budget on "Keep off the Grass" signs and public gardens appear to think a children's play area, usually secreted somewhere between the car park and toilets, is enough to placate the family audience.

To be fair, there are some notable exceptions. Easton Walled Gardens, for example, goes out of its way to encourage the rampaging of children across the grounds and some places, such as Hampton Court in Herefordshire or the Lost Gardens of Heligan, could almost have been created just to delight the smaller visitors.

I wondered if this was a worldwide phenomenon but at a Loire Valley gardens event a couple of weeks ago, I was struck by how often the owners referred to families and children in their talks and by the number of images of children I saw in their slides.

And then there was le Rivau...

This was not a garden I'd heard of before but it is only 20 minutes from the world-famous Villandry and, if you are every travelling there with kids in tow, it would be the perfect place to combine horticulture and junior entertainment.

There are 14 gardens, the names of which alone would be enough to draw in most young children: the Rapunzel Garden, the Enchanted Forest, Tom Thumb's Garden, the Perfumed Path, the Fairies' Border; the Love Potion Garden. And all these are set against the backdrop of a chateau which wouldn't look out of place in the opening of a Disney movie.

In addition, the garden also functions as an outdoor sculpture park with intriguing creations including giant watering cans, pierced trees and even five pairs of enormous legs running through woods. 

But all this is not a theme park.  It's a real garden with plenty of plants and planting to interest the keenest of gardeners, it's just that they haven't forgotten that children are allowed to be excited too.

Perhaps we need to adopt a similar attitude here?

Blimey - look at me, getting all serious! Don't worry, it won't happen again.

So, to lighten the mood, here is my latest Movember moustache (any donations gratefully received...) - Day 4: The Miniature Pine Cone Moustache. Very good for rocking the Brokeback Mountain look and mighty fine paired with matching earings.

Garden visit: Knebworth House

Despite living only half an hour a way, my knowledge of Knebworth is slightly limited. In fact, it could be summed up as "is that where they have loud shouty bands outside?" (I am, as you can see, a loss to the music journalism profession).

In fact, there are 25 acres of garden, but as a parent you may never get to see them. This is down to a chronic lack of planning in the site layout. Picture this: you have driven in the car for some way, then sat in a queue to enter the grounds, the children are bored and restive when suddenly, on your right, emerges a huge adventure playground. Now imagine how easy it is persuade everyone that what they really want to do is keep driving until you reach some gardens. You see the problem?

I would recommend either blindfolds or a well timed cry of "Was that a pack of giant jelly babies I just saw running through the trees on your left?". As it was, I had to rely on food-related bribery and a promise of returning to 'Fort Knebworth' later on (it was a slow day on the creativity front when they named that one).

The gardens themselves are not the most spectacular and seem a little disjointed but there was still enough to keep the kids occupied for at least an hour or two.

Best bits for kids

Dino trail - 72 life sized dinosaurs are lurking in the woods. This was fascinating for the children but a little disturbing for their mother who still remembered hiding behind her cinema seat during Jurassic Park. However, there's nothing so effective as a blousy backdrop of Rhododendrons to calm the nerves.

Maze - A cliche, yes, but still popular. It was quite a low hedge and relatively uncomplicated so probably best for smaller children.

Carvings - Never have I seen so many weird carvings in one place. Fairy castles, totem poles, crocodiles, warriors - there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to their creation or placement but the children loved them.  I was just surprised there was no spotter's sheet for the kids to mark off their finds.

Mound - Don't underestimate the power of a mound - especially to people living so close to the fens. We are easily pleased...

Pollarded Lime Alleys - These apparently exuded a call only audible to children under 8 - "That's right, come to us and run away from that woman they call mother And, yes, screaming too. Screaming would be good".

But just remember, when questioned about their day afterwards, the children will say only this - "We went to Knebworth Fort and ate ice creams".

NGS openings and the dangers of to-do lists

 

I did something a little rash last week. I tried to cross something off my 'to-do list'.

You see, having wondered for a year or two whether to apply to open for the National Gardens Scheme, on Thursday I finally did something about it. As with all such important decisions, I didn't really give it much thought, just dropped an email.

"There," I thought.  "I've done my bit. They'll probably take an age to reply" and I put a line through "NGS?" on my to-do list with the smug flourish.

The call came about two hours later. The local organiser was in the area the next day and wondered if he could pop by.

So I had 24 hours. Well, that's a lie.  If you take into account the need to sleep, write, do school runs, feed and bathe children and generally run around after them, I actually had about three hours. And of course, the garden which had looked great in my mind a short while before, was perhaps a little less maintained than I thought.

My mother very helpfully confirmed this. "You might want to take out those dandelions that are seeding all over the place" was her sage advice. I also removed the thistles (one of which had actually reached thigh height).

But against the odds we were ready, and even more surprisingly, the verdict was positive. I had been stealing myself for rejection - not least because this is very much a family garden, catering for children, and I wasn't sure how interesting that would be to the average NGS visitor.

So we're going to open, probably next May and maybe in half term to encourage more children and families to come. This lengthy wait is good as it gives me a year to perfect my baking skills (quality of cake it appears, is at least as imporant as the planting) and several months to listen to wiser and more experienced gardeners whose general feedback has been "Are you mad?".

In the meantime I am also rewriting my to-do list without 'Run marathon?' on it.  It's safer that way.

Open gardens, spring equinox and spotters' sheets

   
I have opened my garden this week.

Before you get the wrong idea, I should clarify that this was not part of the NGS Yellow Book scheme (I fear I wouldn't make that cut) and there was a distinct lack of tea and cakes on offer.  Instead, I have had the local pre-schoolers over for a 'Signs of Spring' walk.

Apparently the visits are going quite well.  I can't be more definite about that as I didn't go out there myself.  I know these are only two, three and four-year-olds but frankly the under-5s are the harshest critics you will ever find and I wasn't sure I could take their comments.

Still I did show willing.  Not only did I hold my tongue on the fact that spring is still five days away (I am an equinox pedant and proud of it), but I even knocked up some Signs of Spring Spotters' Sheets.  I also managed to blanche only slightly when the pre-school leader showed me the squares of card adorned with double sided sticky tape.

"And those are for...?"

"Collecting signs of spring."

"From my garden?"

"Um...well...yes."

And then, added, as she saw the expression on my face.  "But they won't be very big signs of spring."

If you want to have a go yourself, I've attached the spotting sheet below.  But please don't come to my garden as I'm not sure there will be anything left to spot.

Download Signs of spring – spotting sheet

Garden visit: Easton Walled Gardens

I could never be a contestant on The Apprentice.  This is partly because I still retain a semblance of humanity and could never refer to myself as 'Dawn Isaac - The Brand' but mostly because I'm very, very bad at selling. Yet last week, I must have been on fire because, somehow, I persuaded the entire family that what they really wanted to do on Saturday afternoon was "go to a garden and look at snowdrops". 

Admittedly, I had to assure them we'd be back in time for both the Rugby and Total Wipeout (remarkably similar visual spectacles by the way), but incredibly they went for it.  It was almost on a par with Chris selling that woman an evening dress made of second hand ties.

The snowdrops in question were at Easton Walled Gardens, a few miles north of Stamford and only about five minutes off the A1.  The estate has been in the Cholmeley family since 1592, and yet, in many ways this is a very young garden.  The original hall was requisitioned for the Royal Artillery in the Second World War, which must be a akin to giving the family china to an overexcited three year old.  As a result, the place had to be pulled down in 1951 and a decade or so later, the gardens too were left to their own devices.

This neglect was halted a decade ago when Ursula Cholmoney took on the reinstatement and redevelopment of the gardens and what we visited on Saturday is her vision and dedication combined with the hard work of her small team of gardeners.

The Best Bits for Kids...

Freedom

I'm not sure I've ever seen a website that declares: "We are not precious about the gardens and like children to enjoy themselves" but I wish there were more. In essence, this is the best part of all.  You can bring your children to run around, explore the gardens and let off steam without worry.  I can vouch for the authenticity of this statement as we bumped into Ursula as we were walking through the woodland pathways and she even said I shouldn't worry if the children picked a few flowers (I chose not to repeat this to the boys...).

The Terraces

For the adults, there is a fine set of stone steps, for the children there are terraces of grass which, apparently, must be climbed and run down again and again, preferably screaming 'loooook aaaat meeeee'.

Turf Maze

Well more of a positive labyrinth really (pedantic, moi?) and a simple construct, but always good for younger children, plus, when viewed from above, a dead ringer for Sideshow Bob (according to Reuben anyway),

Enormous Hedge with Inviting Archway

Watch as whole children are consumed.

Yew Tunnel

Because it's dark (apparently too dark for my camera to function properly) and offers plenty of trunks to hide behind

A swing...

...big enough for three. Sort of.

Bird Viewing Areas...

...for the young twitchers

Huge slices of cake...

...for everyone

There are lots of other areas which will be at their best later in the year, so we plan to return a few times over the coming months.  Entry costs £5.75 (£5.50 for snowdrop weeks) per adult and £1.50 per child but we decided it was worth paying around £30 for a family membership meaning we can visit as many times as we like this year.

The gardens are open from March to October, 11am-4pm on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays, and for Sundays in November plus it's open every day for snowdrops from February 12th until this Sunday (20th).

And the kids verdict?  Oscar (5), unprompted, said "I really liked that nice garden" but then he can be a bit of a creep at times...  Ava (7), who is much less likely to sugar the pill, declared "I had a fun time today... which is good because I thought it was going to be really dull."

Maybe my sales pitch needs some work after all.