little green fingers

Broken arms, blingy trees and very large tents

 

I have been shamefully neglecting this blog of late. I was meaning to write but there appeared to be rather a lot happening in life - some involving children, some involving gardens, but rarely involving both at the same time.

Firstly we had the Easter break - or the A&Easter break as it shall henceforth be known.  I won't bore you with details but in summary it was one pulled elbow, one suspected fractured arm, one broken arm, one operation and one cast.  To add insult to injuries, the catalogue of children's bone issues had nothing at all to do with tree climbing or outdoor high jinks. No - just jumping up and down on sofas and beds (I'm beginning to think that the Ten Little Monkeys song is, in fact, serious Government-sponsored health and safety advice).

Then I went to China for a week's holiday.  The gardening element was limited to planting up some pots for my Beijing-resident friend Claire, my constant criticism of Chinese tree pruning (or branch massacre to give it a more accurate term) and taking pictures of the blingiest tree trunks (above) I've ever seen (which incidentally were outside a karaoke bar which would not have looked out of place in Vegas).

And then we had the birthdays. Yes, I turned 40 and Archie turned 4. This meant I had two parties to organise. Easy I thought.  Lovely time of year I thought.  The garden will be the perfect venue I thought.  Thinking, it turns out, is very over-rated.

Archie's Bugs and Butterflies bash was held during what appeared to be a geographically confused monsoon.  Thankfully it turns out that bouncy castles will also fit in village halls and A Bug's Life on a giant screen along with some strategically placed flowerpots and watering cans is garden enough for most pre-schoolers on a wet Saturday.

My own bash was saved by a very large tent. Now some of you may already know my attitude towards camping (it is WRONG) but on some occasions tents can be jolly useful. In fact this is why, when designing our family garden four years ago, I specifically planned the lawn to be large enough to hold a marquee for 100. Well, you never know when you might need to have a REALLY big party...

You see, sometimes this thinking thing actually pays off.

Old man's beard vs jellyfish

Plant names are beautiful creations: lyrical, whimsical, descriptive or just plain odd.  My own personal favourite remains "Welcome home husband though never so drunk" (Sedum acre) but there are many others which are more child friendly and occasionally I try to share these with the kids. For example, a few days ago, I had the following exchange with my six-year-old.

"Look Oscar! Aren't these clematis seedheads lovely?" I mused in my I-could-so-home-school-my-kids-if-I-really-wanted to voice.  "That's why they call this plant 'Old Man's Beard'."

He gave me a sidelong glance that said "don't try and educate me woman - it's the bloody weekend" before nonchalantly saying. "They don't look like beards; they look like jellyfish".

He has a point.

Your verdict?

Mini-greenhouse winners

So, I'm a day late, but we have at last drawn names for the mini-greenhouse winners.  Thanks to everyone who entered and also those who gave invaluable greenhouse tips (Lucie, WT Softie and Damo).  It is rather sad when you realise the comments left by others are more useful than the original blog post but I'm learning to live with this disappointment.

So without further ado, the winners are... Diana and Karen (as picked by Ava and Oscar). 

This is actually the second time Oscar has picked 'Karen' from a hat.  A different Karen admittedly, but there still seems something oddly suspect about it (which may explain Ava's sideways glance - she is a stickler for rules and may well be setting up an inquiry as I type).

Ideal Home Show, plasma screens and impetigo

I have been suffering from impetigo.  Don't know what that is?  Neither did I. In fact, if Robert Robinson had given me option, Call My Bluff style, I would have opted for "one of the smaller islands of the Bocas del Toro Archipelago".  But no, it is a bacterial infection which I am at least 35 years too old to get and which has resulted in my face resembling that of an early plague victim.

I'm not great with such things.  I still remember developing what can only be described as a mountainous zit within my first week of starting university. My solution was not to leave my room for a fortnight. Sadly, this sort of option is not afforded to a mother of three, so I have continued to do the school run without even a paper bag to hide my shame.

More worrying still, I am due to give a talk on Sunday at the Ideal Home Show where there will be six, yes SIX plasma screens to capture, enlarge and then replicate my facial disfigurement to the lucky attendees.

Nice.

Consequently, I am swallowing antibiotics at regular intervals in the hope that I will appear more garden designer than Doctor Who extra.

Oh, and I've also been so under the weather that I haven't quite finished putting together my talk.

But this is where I think you can help.  Yes, that's right, I am asking for some feedback from you lovely people.  My talk is on 'Creating the Perfect Family Garden' and this is a subject I could happily witter on about for days.  But as I only have half an hour, I'd like to know what you consider to be the essential elements to a family garden. What could you not do without? What's your favourite feature - either in your own garden or something you've seen elsewhere?  And most importantly, what are the biggest problems you've faced in creating your own family garden?

Come on, take pity on me.  If not, I may swap the picture of our crocus ring for an image of my face.

You have been warned.

And the winner is....

The Jamie at Home series (including Bri in his fetching sheepskin headband) will be winging its way to you Karen*

 

*name picked out of a bobble hat by Oscar - who is at home ill, just in case you think our local school has a seriously relaxed uniform policy.

Cbeebies shows, singing aubergines and TLAs

I have signed countless NDAs in my life. For those not au fait with this particular TLA (Three Letter Acronym - possibly the most useless TLA ever invented) it stands for Non Disclosure Agreement. Almost all of these arose in my dark days as a technology PR girl and generally had to do with something so dull and incomprehensible that disclosing it would have been social suicide anyway.

However, last year I signed an NDA which has been torturous to keep. Nine months ago I became Gardening Consultant for a new Cbeebies show - Mr Bloom's Nursery. And, two weeks today, the first show will air.

The show has some hands on gardening with kids on a ridiculously gorgeous looking allotment with Mr Bloom. But, this is also about entertainment, so there are talking vegetables: a shy cabbage, mischievous radishes, the requisite comedy runner bean and, of course, a singing aubergine (who is also French because, hey, why wouldn't he be?).

It begins February 7th on Cbeebies 10.05am and 2.05pm.

Kids' garden gifts, control freaks and Advocaat

"I want an electric toothbrush and a hula hoop, and a DS with Nintendogs, some wax, and chocolate and socks".

Thus reads my 5-year-old son's Christmas list (well, at least after I've corrected a few imaginative spellings).

I like it.  It has a certain eclectic flair the way it veers from middle aged man, to techno geek, via preening adolescent and 1950s skittish school girl. Plus, I know he will be as happy with some stripy socks as he will with the Nintendo.

That is why kids are a pleasure to buy for.

Adults - that's another matter. I loathe buying gifts for them.

Admittedly, I do have some particularly tricky ones to deal with. First my father, for whom you can really only buy Terry's Bitter Chocolate, hunks of stilton cheese, or most bizarrely of all, a bottle of Advocaat.

Then there's my mother, the uber control freak, who will pointedly say "I wouldn't mind that for Christmas". This would be immensely useful if it wasn't for the fact these utterances always occur sometime in late July when no-one is really thinking about Christmas (except, obviously, my mother who gets a little uncomfortable if all presents aren't purchased, wrapped and filed away neatly in the loft by October at the latest.)

Worst of all, my eldest brother, for whom I now buy nothing as he is the least diplomatic present recipient I've ever known "Why on earth did you buy me THAT?", "I've already got it.","Why did you think I'd want THIS?"... you get the picture.

So my advice - ignore adults and indulge the kids. Plus, let's face it, their stuff is far more fun.

In honour of this, and for anyone as behind as I am in their Christmas preparation, I've selected my favourite kids' gardening gifts.

1.Reindeer Poo in a Box - £5. Yes. Seriously. Kids can not only grow their own Christmas tree in odourless reindeer dung but they also get to legitimately use the word "poo" every time an adult asks "What did you get for Christmas?".  Genius.

2.Soft Play Gardening Set - £25. A great way to keep the destructive younger gardener entertained with 14 soft play pieces including three pots with removable soil and flowers, a watering can, trowel, rake. seed bag and a garden storage bag.

3.Wooden vegetable plant markers - £10.99 for four. Choose from 12 designs and your kids will have something good to look at in the veg patch even in this weather.

4.Water diviners - £6.95. Cheaper than metal detectors and more amusing as a spectator sport. They might even prove useful in a drought...

5. Cornflower blue window box  £8.49. The perfect size to add some flowery charm to playhouses.

6. Giant garden pick up sticks £10.99. I create this game myself every time I try to get a bamboo stake out of the shed although the kids find it less fun

7. Forest Pirate Galleon £499.95. More play ship than play house, which is no bad thing.

8. Grow your own pet food £2.45. Get the kids to grow their pet some food.  More exciting than cleaning out the cage. Available for dogs, cats, rabbits, hamsters, canaries, budgies, guinea pigs, chinchillas, iguana, tortoise and gnus (OK, I made that last one up)

9. Windowsill seed kit - microleaves £9.95 Grow green things which are not sprouts. Always a good plan.

10. Children's giraffe growbag planter £14.95 - Great for growing climbing plants. Less good for growing giraffes.

 

Axes, Awards and Freebies

It's been a tricky few weeks. First our car died, then the washing machine spluttered its last.  In fact, with that dreadful superstition of things happening in threes, I was starting to feel a little nervous for the cat.

But then, what do you know, things picked up.  A lot.

Firstly, I was given a greenhouse.

Yes, that's right, given; free, gratis and even delivered to our door. It belonged to a friend's father and he no longer had need of it, so it was offered to me. Apparently, they were surprised I was interested. To quote my friend "I thought you'd want something bigger, fancier and Victorian-looking".  To be fair, I am disgustingly shallow when it comes to buying garden items, but I am also frugal to the point of cheap, and to misquote from Jerry Macguire "you had me at free".

So, I now have a wealth of plans for this fabulous new garden addition - starting with erecting it of course - and the kids are almost as excited as I am. Well, that, or they're just humouring me... again.

Secondly, I won something.

At this year's Garden Media Guild Awards, I was joint winner in the New Talent category for my pieces in The Guardian.  Obviously, I am particularly excited about the 'New' part, given that I'm 18 months off hitting 40 and being called 'New' anything is a novelty.  It also felt like an added bonus because the big achievement for me was getting published in the first place.  For this I am hugely grateful to Jane Perrone who gave me the chance and didn't hang up the phone when I called (which, let's face it, would have been the far more reasonable response).

I'll admit I was probably even more shocked to have Little Green Fingers named as a finalist in the Blog of the Year awards. When you consider that the list included Mark Diacono's Otter Farm, James Alexander-Sinclair's award-winning Blogging from Blackpitts and, this year's winner, Lia Leendertz' Midnight Brambling you will understand my reaction.

Unlike those Hollywood types, I can honestly say it was an honour just to be nominated.

Then of course, it all got a bit messy.

This was my first ever GMG Awards, and also the only time I had left the house on a non school-run related trip for 24 days. Yes, that's right 24 days!  I was wearing a dress, surrounded by some very entertaining people and there was a lot of alcohol around. I'm not sure when I said to myself "this is kind of my work's Christmas do", but from then on my fate was sealed.

Amongst other things:

Andy Sturgeon stole my axe (actually, I think I gave it to him, but there is something very "Freddie Star ate my hamster" about that headline, so I'm sticking to it)

I decided to tell the Producer of Gardener's Question Time how I began my love affair with Radio 4 whilst on a summer job grading daffodil bulbs (she was, as you might expect, fascinated by this anecdote...)

I had a long conversation with Mark Diacono about his friend's piles

For some reason I was left in charge of the RHS Director of Shows' briefcase (I think he may have mistaken me for a cloakroom assistant)

I may have challenged a few people to a lager drinking contest (in fairness, I wasn't even drinking lager but by this point reality was a stranger to me)

I also lost a glove, smashed the pot in my goodie bag, and gave an impromtu garden design consultation to a lady I met on the 11.15 to Bedford.

In my defence, I would remind you that 24 days is quite a long time... and at least there wasn't a photocopier involved.

Dan Brown, lollipop sticks and wellie-drilling

I have done some really stupid things in my life before.  There was that ditch-diving incident when my Dad told me to take my feet off the pedals of my bike and I heard it as "take your hands off the handlebars", and the time I was trying to get my parents attention by standing inbetween them… whilst they were throwing bricks, not forgetting the day I crossed the road in front of a bike, or the one when I did the same in front of a car (I became such a regular at the hospital, I was invited to their Christmas party). 

However, these things were linked by a common factor.  I was very, very young.

I kind of thought I’d grown out of such nonsense.

Until last Thursday.

Because that was the day I drilled my own leg.

Which hurt… quite a lot.

But weirdly, that wasn’t what I was thinking about.  No, my first thought was “if this starts to bleed uncontrollably, will I be able to construct a tourniquet quickly enough to still pick up the kids from school?”.  And secondly, “if I have to go to A&E should I lie about the fact I was drilling holes in wellies?”.

Yes, this was a wellie-drilling injury.  Surely, one of the least impressive or glamorous injuries. (Actually, that’s not really true.  I’m sure I read somewhere that there are a handful of deaths each year caused by simply “putting on trousers”.  Then again, I may well have made this up...)

I would like to point out that this injury, while undeniably stupid, is all in a good cause. In fact it was part of one of 35 projects I’m attempting to prepare for my first ever book.  

This tome (which I imagine is already getting Dan Brown worrying over his share of the book market) is supposed to marry real gardening and my Blue Peter-esque obsessions with cutting, sticking and recycling household objects.  As a result there will be a certain amount of planting in non-planters and, consequently, quite a lot of drilling.  In fact, so far this week, I have drilled a ceramic teapot (slow, slow work), wooden wine boxes (a doddle), rubber wellie boots (soft and slippery) and, of course, my leg (very painful, but not A&E gruesome thanks to the stopping power of denim).

Next week I shall be concentrating on planting bulbs and lollipop stick fencing.  It will be safer.

The One Where Everyone Chooses Cheerleading

“We had to choose our options today Mummy?”

“Oh really” I said, only half listening to Ava (this was Wednesday afternoon - post pre-school gardening club, post school, post gym club and, in my defence, I hadn’t had a cup of tea for at least two hours).

“Yes we can choose three things from a list; stuff like computers, multi-skills, football, gardening…”

“Gardening?” I am suddenly alert.

“Yes, Mummy.”

“So what did you choose?”

“Book club, computers and…. cheerleading”.

“Oh”.  I am trying to sound upbeat at this point.  It doesn’t work.  I know this because my seven-year-old daughter’s voice suddenly becomes gentler and she says:

“I would have chosen gardening…. if they let us have a fourth option.”

She is only a knee pat away from being downright condescending.

Still on the bright side, Oscar opted gardening although I have to admit it was only number two on his list… after cheerleading.

High School Musical and Glee have a lot to answer for.