Yesterday we woke to heavy frost.
The garden transformed into a winter wonderland.
It was amazing with frosty trees, a bit of snow on the far off hills, and mist in the glen.
And the details weren't bad either.
Today is a day of frantic sewing to get orders out the door.
Jane x
With the clocks going back at the weekend we are suddenly into winter. It doesn't help that the rain does't seem to have stopped for the last week and the path from the house to the workshop is under water in several places - everyone knows that they need to bring wellies to work now.
With the glowering clouds it seems that it is dark from mid afternoon.
And yet . . . .
walking in the dark from the house to the cabin after tea or back to the house once I've packed up for the night . . . well it is one of the most beautiful times of day.
There is a road across from the house - you can see the tops of lorries driving along it - but at about 7pm the hum of the road gives way to the swoosh of the river running through the glen.
Standing in the light of the full moon, listening to the water, watching the barn owl swoop about looking for mice. swell its pretty much as good as it gets.
And sometimes I even have company.
It may be dark and drizzly this morning but there are still some parts of the garden that are breathtaking.
Despite their annual brutal shearing at Christmas wreath making time the dogwoods continue to grow and look like billowing tapestries at the edge of the garden.
We put so much effort into the garden - nurturing seeds, getting flowers to bloom.
But secretly I like it best when it all starts to collapse.
This helenium (Morheim beauty I think) looks stunning in front of the autumnal hosta leaves.
It is quite the best thing in the garden
What is the best thing where you are?
Sometimes it is so easy to get so wrapped up in all the things that need doing - and believe me this week there seems to be an interminable list - that I stop appreciating how lucky I am.
This morning, feeling more than a little harassed, i slowed down and I took some photos on my journey from breakfast (porridge and cream) to workshop (lighting woodburner).
Chickens on the lawn
Flowers in the cutting beds
Look at how the delphiniums have rebloomed after being chopped in July
And then look at my view from the workshop.
How lucky am I?
Now tonight is making tea, packing for a stand at a coffee morning, making up 100 ladybirds and then, and most importantly making up a special present for a very special little girl who turns 9 on Saturday.
I just love the contrast of the controlled hedgehoggy spikes and that curve at the base.
Whats your obsession?
Parts of Scotland got frost last night (So I am told by BBC weather) and though, I hope that we won't be frosted for a few weeks, I am aware that we are heading for the end of the gardening year.
I am hoping that it holds off to let some of my late flowerers do their stuff in style.
This helenium has only just begun to flower properly in the last week or so
and Dahlia Honka surprise, which was meant to be scented but isn't, is looking amazing and will probably earn its place despite its lack of scent.
But of course September isn't really the ed of the year in the garden - in many ways it is the beginning. We took advantage of there being a digger on site for our extension and got the broom and grass cleared from the bank outside the workshop.
A whole new bit of space. Fiona and I are devising planting plans as we speak!
A dry day yesterday lifted my spirits and this morning I was able to put this together - a bouquet being sent into Glasgow.
The rain has taught me that neither Bon-bini nor Rip city lose their colour in the rain but that Arabian nights and plum tart gladioli certainly do.
J x
Usually I try to provide an upbeat flower filled blog.
After a week of heavy rain however this is the reality, beds of rotting flowers. I am doing wedding flowers mid week and I can tell there is going to be a lot of hard, soggy work to get the flowers into good enough condition.
Do I sound upbeat? Do I sound flower filled?
We have suddenly got a patch of truly horrible weather - but it doesn't seem to be dimming the garden at all
Many of the flowers seem almost fluorescent under the dark grey skies.
Chief amongst them is dahlia fuchsiana - bright pink with an orange glow to the petals.
