Saturday, 2 June 2012

Inspiration from my garden

At long last we have had a week of almost uninterrupted sunshine... my garden is so happy... with the exception of my 'always flowers on my birthday' white moss rose, which looked suddenly very ill. My dad was quick to tell me, 'THIS is NOT an omen!!! just a tired rose plant!" So with huge courage I have cut it right back to the base, where I can see that our epic rains have simply soaked the old wood rotten through. It might come back, it might not... I had huge affection for the plant, the scent was heavenly and restorative on many a difficult day... but everything changes and nothing is forever.
Meanwhile... the Ceanothus is a riot of blue and positively roars it is so full of bees when you stop and listen. It is glorious, and deeply patriotic just for now, as we brace ourselves for a long weekend of flag waving and patriotism to celebrate Queenie's Diamond Jubilee. Equally regal and in full bloom is my lilac, it is one of those very dark purple ones and it is sorely tempting to pick armfuls to put in a jug on the table.
Lush Lilac
I have resisted as the flowers drop so quickly... instead I have been picking the unusually early 'Forget-me-Nots', these I press to go on top of my beeswax blended thread conditioner which I wrote about here.
This year the flowers are a lovely size and colour and in great abundance up and down the lanes near my house. I leave far more than I pick... but this year I need to make sure I re-stock as a well known beading magazine is going to be featuring my thread conditioner in the autumn and who knows, there may be a rush of customers.

I have a simple wooden flower press which my lovely dad made for me when I was very small. It was fashionable to press flowers and then mount the dried flowers into pretty arrangements to make cards and pictures, I had several lovely books by Penny Black, who I'm delighted to see is still creating gorgeousness with textiles and the occasional pressed flower in Cornwall.
I have her to thank for my enduring habit of making bowls of home made pot pourri and a love of all scented plants instilled long before I had a garden of my own.