Frazzled - How To Recharge.

Hello my fellow garden lovers, an extra little post this weekend. How are you doing? How’s the garden? Mine is looking frazzled here in my little part of the uk. I too am in sympathy with it. I think we’re both a bit burnt out. The garden has had to cope with the fierce relentless sun of this summer and in turn I have been frantically running around trying to keep it looking half alive for the open garden that was last Sunday. That, on top of creating art, running the shop and all the other things life throws, and well, I think we’re both ready for a good rest.

August is a mixed bag- dahlias are beginning to really get going, fruit is ripening and there is a lot of the garden still producing. But I’m also seeing things slowing down- the roses, the delphiniums that seem reluctant to go again and the larkspur declaring it is done! I feel you larkspur. There seems to be this expectation for things to keep going all summer long, not resting until winter declares it so. But I’m ready for winter- metaphorically speaking, I don’t want darkness and cold just yet but I am ready for a bit of a recharge.

This August I want to let in some space, to empty the diary as much as possible and do the things that bring in that much needed sense of calm. Treating myself to a book made from paper which I can inhale and turn the pages of. Noticing what’s in flower or the seed heads and cutting them for myself- maybe a little jar for the side of the bed. Meals are simple and were possible from the garden- some ribbons of yellow courgette with freshly picked mint and thyme, drizzled with oil and lemon, a little cheese crumbled on top. The tv remains off, the phone used only for photography as I document the garden and notebooks always open and ready for me to scribe my thoughts and ideas into. There are few things more satisfying than seeing ink dance across a blank page, I find a deep sense of peace with a good pen and notebook in hand.

My other recharge plug-ins are these; Laying on a rug under trees and watching the leaves dance in the breeze, lulled by the gentle rustling sound. Listening to Ludovico Einaudi on repeat (never gets old). Flicking through an inspiring magazine, it’s usually a home and garden one. Walking in a garden- preferably somewhere where tea and cake are easily accessible. Not denying myself the pleasure of said cake, nor wine come to think of it. Sticking my nose in the bag of coffee for a deep inhale before I actually make it, then using a cafetière as I love the sensory experience of plunging the handle, I also think it tastes better. Deadheading my roses, deadheading anything really, there is something cathartic about walking around armed with snips- beheading things, flowers, always flowers. Cancelling plans, sometimes we just need to for our own sanity! It’s ok. I’m giving you permission to do this also. Anyway, you get my drift.

In my notebooks I’m scribbling down thoughts I have on the garden. The bulb catalogs came through the other day but I’m just not there yet, so instead I make notes on things I might like to change and plants (roses) that I might like to add. I write a note to remind myself yet again that I need to put water troughs either side of the greenhouse (I might ask Father Christmas for these).

When we let in space, when we plug in to our ‘feel good things’ to recharge, we emerge ready to go again. But lets not push it, it will soon be autumn, lets go slowly and enjoy it.

Emma.