Gardens – Page 3 – Gardens. Travel. Life.

Posted on May 22, 2023May 22, 2023 by happyretiredblog · 2 Comments

Did I say I like Tulips?

I started this blog two weeks ago. But it’s a long story. A lot can happen in two weeks and the blog was put to one side. So as Magnus Magnissson used to say ‘ I’ve started so I’ll finish!

Have I ever say I like tulips? Ok. Maybe a few times. Like a few hundred. I don’t like them I love them. It’s not always been like this though. Once upon a time. A long long time ago I was pretty indifferent. But my fascination has grown. And grown. A bit like dahlias. Without the earwigs.

Back in 2016 it was a sedate few in window boxes in London and the Pitcombe pots. Just a few. At that stage I didn’t realise I could stuff the pots with as many bulbs as I uncoils get in.

In 2017 the pots were stuffed with a few more tulips. Not stuffed really just a few more than the previous year. 2017 was a good year. I liked them. Good colours and a limited palette.

Somewhere in between helping at Common Farm flowers where Georgie grows row upon row of glorious tulips and a visit to the National Garden scheme open garden of Ulting Wick where Philippa plants thousands of tulips each year my addiction gained momentum. . There. I have admitted it. My name is Andrew and I’m tulip addict. . Or as when I was introduced to someone at the annual carol concert at our local church ‘ so you know Andrew? ‘Of course I know Andrew & Ian – the tulip men. ‘ at least it wasn’t the Flowerpot men. And at least they knew Ian’s name. He has been described as Andrew’s friend. Which makes me smile. As does being called Mr Jones in the local butchers where I have been going for 30 years. It made me feel old then. But then again I am now. 30 years older than when I first went in.

It didn’t stop. I found out that Peter Nyssen delivered to Spain and post Brexit I could still get them direct from Holland. No issues with the paperwork and customs. That’s a big deal. No company wants to deliver to Europe from the Uk. When we first bought the house we could get John Lewis delivered. Not any more. It’s too much hassle and too expensive. You lose the will to live with customs forms and customs charges.

In 2018 the first full year in Spain I planted some pots around the terrace. To be fair that was probably the best year for tulips in Spain. This year they have definitely been pants. The pots in particular. I think that the only ones I will grow going forward is in the white wall.

The tulips in the white wall which came on leaps and bounds after a shaky start. A bit short ~ like me ~ but that didn’t matter as they didn’t get snapped in the wind. The problem is water. They need two things. A cold spell and my only option is the fridge in Spain. And water whilst establishing. Which in Spain has been an issue.

In Somerset last year I went a bit bonkers ~ and at it’s full flow the bulb supplier described it as a dolly mixture of colours. It made up for the year before when I had planted the bulbs but didn’t see them once as we stayed away during the pandemic. We did get photos sent by neighbours and I randomly saw photos on instagram. Oh look. It’s our tulips in Pitcombe.

My attitude was I didn’t see them physically that year so I’m going over the top this. Grandad who’s not my grandad ~ you know like the roundabout that’s not a roundabout said early on as they were just getting into their stride ‘ not sure about these this year ~ not up to your usual standard. He’s nothing but honest is grandad. But even he had to eat his words. They took their time but were bloody lovely. Even if I say so myself.

I went a bit overboard as well in London. The front garden in London is small ~ oh. There is no front garden in Somerset it’s just a three feet bit of gravel onto the road.

I spend ages planning. Choosing. Changing my mind and then finding that the ones I want are out of stock and have to start again. It sounds like a lot of thought goes into it. It does. I talk to a few people where we share our favourites. I plan. I buy. Then leave it until the last minute to plant. And the pot list goes to , well pot and the bulbs are thrown in. Not literally. But I start off the best intentions. A bit like my approach to diets. Good start and then it’s all downhill. Except at the end with tulips the comments are better.

The truth is I don’t learn. Planting in late 2022 was late. So late some pots were planted in late January. When I first tried to plant the compost was frozen. I needed more compost. It was frozen when I bought it. My biggest fault ~ well as far as planting is concerned. Ian will give you a list of others if you ask – is the same whatever I’m planting. It’s labelling and sticking to the written plan. Which means when I’m asked what the flower name is it’s usually the same. Tulip unknown.

The London pots were filled with leftovers from the Pitcombe pots. Tulips. Not compost. Again grandad who’s not my grandad said. I’m not sure you’ll get as good a result as last year. Someone from the neighbouring village drove past the cottage and rolled down the car window and said the same. Just wait was the reply …. He did. She did And they were pleased. But not as pleased as me.

The most commented on tulip was West Point. A yellow lily tulip. It was lovely but I think yellow in Spring is for daffodils. I liked it. Ian loves it. It will be in the London pots as a compromise next year.

The London pots were a little thinner on the ground this year. Unlike Fed the geriatric cat who matches the path. The window boxes were pretty poor. Out of the three the small one with tulip royal virgin was ok. The main one was rubbish. I realised too late that it was an old window box I was using which had poor drainage. Schoolboy errors still continue and gardening isn’t all perfect despite what we see on social media.

I have already starting the planning for 2024 and I haven’t even emptied the 2023 pots yet. I’ve added names to a list. The colour. The height. Whether it’s early or late. I’ve decided solubles are ok for the window boxes but not right for the Pitcombe pots. I’ve decided that whilst I tried Angelique again this year it’s a non runner for me again. On its heyday it was stunning but it’s lost it for me. Tulip brown sugar remains a big favourite but maybe I’ve used it too much. Tulips pretty woman is a runner. I like oranges and some pinks. People love the dark tulips and black parrot grew on me tho I’m not a parrot fan. Oh. But Rococo is a stunner. See. I’m all over the place. Here. There and everywhere.

I have told a few people if they want any of this years bulbs for their gardens then they can dig them out but don’t take the pots!. I have emptied all of the London pots as they had gone well over and looked rubbish.

This year I planted some lovely reds, which may form the basis for next years pots. I have the names of the ones I want for the London window boxes as I randomly planted a large pot which was lovely. Really big and blousy so will form the basis of the window boxes. That’s a start. Oh. And if you are asking. Peter Nyssen is my go to supplier. Great service. Great bulbs.

So the tulip spam for 2023 has come to an end, unless you go visit my instagram account 😂.

I’d like to say that the next flower spamming would be the agapanthus but we lost a lot in Somerset and some of the large ones in the London pots don’t look encouraging. So you may be spared. I’m sure I will find something. Don’t worry. I will warn you to look away. But on a high note . The tree ferns have come through the winter pretty unscathed. But I was sensible and wrapped them early. Changed the straw in the crowns when it started to freeze . And yes. I have already poo’d my plants having had a delivery of Alpaca poo feed from Arches at the Larches.

I said I had started but hadn’t finished. The blog that is. . There was a reason. Water. Not like in Spain where there is the lack of it. I could write about the three days off and one day in and the man in a motor cycle driving around the camp turning valves on and off but that’s for smith we day. Where reservoirs are being declared dead. Where the water table is so low the shallow rooted pine trees are dying. But in Somerset we got more than we wanted. Needed. Every house needs running water. Just not through the house. The garden was so wet I was planning to grow rice in the garden. I’ve always said that good neighbours are great. Awesome ones are the best. The clearance for us was done quickly and the community comes together in times of need.

We were in the centre of a storm. One minute I was checking the river. It was where it was supposed to be. 4 bricks down and nowhere near the road. The next it was coming at all angles. The one thing you can’t control. Water. I pretended to be Moses and tried parting it. I tried a Harry Potter spell. But it didn’t work. It obviously doesn’t understand expletives either. . It’s also very scary. The speed of the rise of the river was unprecedented.

It’s been an eventful week. I’d forgotten how businesses want you to do everything online. Which when it works is just fine. When talking to someone is difficult. Because the email you get says don’t respond to this email. And there’s no contact number.

But it’s only as good as their applications. We had been chased for a declaration that had to be confirmed. On an app. . We would have been delighted to confirm. Except we couldn’t. Despite telling them. We got reminders. they told us it was an IT issue. We emailed them. We had a nice bit chat in the app. All recorded. On the app. So two weeks later it’s still an IT issue. I did politely suggest to them to turn their system off and back on again. That usually works for me. Action 13. Turn it off and on. Calls to London when it should have been Somerset. Calls to tell us they would call tomorrow to make an appointment ~ quite why they did that still baffles me. I gave feedback. They listened. They agreed. It’s now better.

But we got off lightly. Neighbouring villages had front walls down. Cars washed away ~ 5 feet of water inside their houses and they are nowhere near a river. They sadly will be out of their houses for months. We won’t be. Thankfully. .

I arrived back in London to have a video call from our neighbour in Spain. Look at this he said. Look at the bloody rain. It’s awful. Not want I wanted to see ~ whilst we are desperate for rain in Spain this wasn’t mainly on the plain. It was 2.000 feet up the mountain. Over head. But the rain is welcome. The gardens need it. The reservoirs need it. But a week after a flood rain is the last thing I want to talk about.

So it’s been eventful. Thrown in with my goddaughters 16th birthday. Grandad who’s not my grandad haymaking. Lunch and supper with friends and our Somerset family.

Oh and I forgot the MG rally going through the village where the cake stall under the arch made over £300 for various charities.

What did people mean when they said to me. What will you do in retirement? Won’t you be bored!

Posted on March 31, 2023April 10, 2023 by happyretiredblog · 1 Comment

The Mediterranean garden

After a short break in Barcelona we are back on the Costa del Sol. Back up the wiggly road ~ 2,000 feet up the mountain to Cómpeta. An easy but packed flight where we had the offer of being off loaded with compensation of €250 each and being put on the next flight. If seats were available. Tempting but we thought the flight was overbooked because Spain were playing in Malaga in the Euro qualifiers. So that would mean the next flight would be full too. So it was a no for us. And I was wrong about the football flight. Very few to see but a plane full of saga travellers. Me included.

We are coming up to our 6th anniversary. Not us. We have lost count. But having the house here and I just wish we had found the pueblo blanco before. My love for the village the house and the surrounding area hasn’t diminished. We are here less since a certain event which will remain nameless. So we need to make the most of our time travelling in Spain. And in the garden. And with friends.

Let’s talk about the weather. A British obsession. It’s abnormally hot for March. Bonkers hot. Easter here can be a rotten time. Cold. Wet. And it doesn’t matter if it’s March or April. But not this year. The weather is hot. There hasn’t been rain in ages and there is still no sign of rain in the forecast. Unlike the UK. Where it hasn’t stopped and the reports say that March has been the gloomiest in decades. To. Be be fair Britain is the gloomiest it has been in decades. Not just the weather. But to be fair you often hear our Spanish friends commenting on the weather too. ‘hace frio’ you hear. Whilst we are still in shorts and T-shirts. The Spanish in polo neck sweaters with scarves and gloves.

So we arrive at the house. The mimosa tree by the gate is in flower ~ it started as a shoot from one that had been cut down and is now glorious. As long as you don’t have allergies. But I’ll take an extra anti histamine as the colour and effect is awesome. And there will be armfuls picked for the house.

The garden through the gate looks great and I sigh with relief. We are lucky to have friends who water the garden when it’s needed ~ these borders are largely drought resistant ~ but believe me. They still need some water. It may only be 28* now ~ yes. Only 28* but the scorching months of July and August means the most drought tolerant plants need the occasional drink. Last summer the temperature touched 40 in the garden. So I was told. We don’t come in those months. I did in the first lockdown. Well I got caught here for 9 weeks and trust me. The sun may be out but I spent most of my days indoors. In my pants watching Netflix. Air con on. And large bills. Not to be repeated.

There are times I wish we had smelly vision for social media. The curvy path is full of freesias. As well as Clivia and rosemary. But it is the whiff of the freesia that you get as you walk up the path. Bought over the last three years from my friends at Peter Nyssen they get better and better each year. The bulbs. Peter Nyssen couldn’t get any better in my eyes. The Clivia are gorgeous and there are still a few to flower. I did have a yellow one as a pot plant decades ago. Now I want one for the garden. One dozen.

I planted a row of scented pelargonium along the path. To fight off the mozzies. Mozzies love me and last year this path was a nightmare at times. We have cut a lot back. We as in the Gardner who comes in to help. Opened up the space so hoping this year we will be in a better position. This area gets late afternoon shade but still gets as dry as Jerusalem. There are two large strelitzia Nicolai here. One has flowered since we have been here and the smaller of the two looks like it’s going to flower shortly. Excited? Hell yes.

Now the above won’t excite you. Trust me I’m ecstatic. I think this is the new flower which will no doubt flower when we aren’t there. It’s a lovely black and white bird of paradise flower. It’s a particularly gorgeous flower. Black and white large flowers.

The main part of the garden border which has a variety of plants. Yucca which I’m in fear of losing. Small palms. A bed around the olive tree with creeping Rosemary. Creeping. Not creepy. The curry plant. The olive tree and agapanthus all co exist. There is also a lilac which is struggling. I have to think again and go check it daily re flowering. If it doesn’t then it’s time to say goodbye. It’s no use having something that takes up room. And not produce.

Have I ever said I like tulips. Only once or twice. Or a thousand times. I’ll say it again. I like tulips. Here. There and down in Somerset.

These are tulip palmyra. a little short but I don’t care. They are planted in the white wall and are prone to hit by the wind. So shorter than expected are fine. A glorious colour against the white wall. They are a bit early for me to use in the UK.

I planted two pots which included these. Dutch Dancer. These two are also shorter than I’ve grown before. But I love them. I have some in Pitcombe again this year. Well hopefully. I’m yet to see the pots in person.

A bit of a contrast to tulips. My favourite agave. Ever. The foxtail agave. It’s a beauty. This one is in a pot. Obviously. You can see that. I’ve already taken two out of the pot and planted them in the garden. There are a few more to do when I have the time. My worry. That it will flower. Why? Because whilst the flower is lovely like a long fox tail as soon as it flowers the plant dies. I’ll forego the flower for now.

I love these. Lovely black aeonium which has survived the heat of the summer and the low temperatures of Spring. The one I had in London has become mush. My fault as I should have brought it in. Two bits that broke off have been stuck in the ground and are growing well. It’s one thing that I never get tired of. Seeing what we can grow in the garden here.

Hello Prickles the prickly pear. These are all dying off in our area. It’s the cochineal fly. Ravages the plant. Squash it on the white wall and you get a red blob. Get it on your white T-shirt. And it’s a nightmare to get out. I hose it down with the hose to get the fly off. Covid breaks took its toll a bit but it’s still there. And it fruits.

You know I said I like tulips. Have I also said I like agapanthus. Well I like agapanthus. The garden is away with them. Mainly blue. Some white and the latest addition popping purple. They self seed too though it does take a bit before they are mature enough to flower. I have to admit to buying 6 more this trip and planting them at the rear of the house. It’s dry. Very dry so they should thrive. Added as well a medium sized bottlebrush. A friend once commmented that she though the bottlebrush was a bit common. I think in the right place with a beautiful blue sun it’s fabulous. It’s also a great pollinator and gets covered bt bees. Gorgeous and a bee magnet. Win win.

We have two large and a small nispero growing on the bank. Also known as loquat it’s the big leaves that do it for me. The fruit is ok. But they can and do go a bit mush on the tree and don’t keep well when picked. Nispero jam is pretty lovely though.

The view from the bathroom window. The strelitzia Reginae strategically planted. But not by me but by the previous owners. Now in full flower

Thankfully so far the large pines on the bank have survived. Many around us haven’t as the water table has been so low. Also absent this year are signs of the processionary caterpillars. Vicious little bathplugs. In previous years we’ve had the nests removed from the trees but this year there weren’t anybody there wasn’t the number in the trees on the windey road either.

The first time the double doors have been open since last September. Opened so the fly screen can be checked. Cleaned and the doors closed again.

The circle of planting under the olive tree. Osteospermum. Curry plant. (Helichrysum italicum). Rosemary and some succulents ~ a gorgeous crop of Carpobrotus edulis ~ a fabulous bright pink flower on long succulent arms. Not yet in flower so next time. Oh and some freesia.

Euphorbia candelabrum. Prickly pear. Foxtail agave.

A selection of plants taste dotted around rue garden. The cactus that’s not a cactus ~ the euphorbia candelabrum.

A selection of flowers giving the garden some early colour.

But it wasn’t all gardening. It was the start of Semana Santa. Easter is a huge celebration in Spain. Not huge. Massive with celebrations and processions. Each with a different meaning. We were around for one only. Palm Sunday. The procession travels through the village to the Plaza Almijara and to the church. Each procession is very different. There is the men’s procession on Good Friday very early in the morning. The children’s procession. And one for the women of the pueblo Blanco. Plus others. It’s a spectacular sight and one that is carried out all over Spain. We were in Salamanca in 2018 and saw the one there. The first three photos are Competa 2023.

But. The weather. Let’s talk about the weather. First time the legs had been exposed since October. A drive down the wiggly road to the coast. Nerja. I’m surprised how many people know where it is. An old colleague when I told him we had a house 30 mins away knew where it was. He’d been there in his honeymoon over 30 years ago. Ex neighbours in Somerset told us they went there often and came for lunch when they were last there. It has grown on us.

Then along the coast is Torrox. Apparently has the best climate in Europe but we don’t spend enough time there to validate it. But it’s a great long walk along the promenade. It was another warm day. And no that’s not us on the beach. I don’t want to see myself in swimming trunks in March let alone make others suffer.

It wouldn’t be the same without the pueblo Blanco. It’s six years since Ian booked a trip where we unexpectedly ended up staying in Competa. We had booked Frigiliana but it was cancelled a week before we arrived and we ended up staying in Competa instead. The best cancellation ever.

These steps are always a gem. Always bright. Always full and colourful. The planted balcony. Always catches you as you turn the corner in the narrow streets. The gorgeous blur pots of Casa Beaumont with the planting changing as the seasons change.

Competa by night. Competa by day. And in a blink of an eye another visit is over.

Casa Beaumont.

Posted on March 10, 2023March 10, 2023 by happyretiredblog

A bit of Black and White.

It’s no surprise to many but I do like to take a photo or two. Just ask Ian. He will tell you that all my photos of him are ones of him walking ahead. That’s usually because he continues to walk on as I stop and take a photograph. Then when catching him up I take another. Usually of his back. I even had a photo book printed of a number of those photos. The funny thing is that he can say where each one was taken.

Since retiring I have rekindled my love of the camera and latterly taking photos with my iPhone. I always have my phone with me. Not glued to my ear but ready in hand in case. Not for a call but an opportunity. Years ago I took a lot of black and white. On a camera. No. Before yo say. It wasn’t a box brownie although I remember one in the house growing up. Mine was an Olympus trip. I didn’t realise that the Trip bit was a marketing reference As the camera was aimed at people who wanted a compact, functional camera for holidays. During the 1970s, it was the popular British photographer David Bailey advertised the camera. So that’s why I now realise why my mother used to comment when I was taking a photo ~ ‘ who do you think you are David Bailey!!

But with that camera photos were taken with real film with the added excitement of not instantly knowing what the picture would tell. Then the disappointment that out of a reel of 24 you might have at least one good one. If I was lucky. Then having a load of photos that were put in a box and not looked at again. My mother kept the ‘best’ ones in an old milk tray chocolate box. Now I keep them on my phone. Don’t ask how many are on here. Too many. This one came out of the chocolate box when the house was cleared. Taken in the early 1930’s and no. Not by me. Taken on Barry Island beach ~ pre Gavin and Stacey. My mother and her twin sister and brother with cousins and Granny Morgan. My great grandmother.

Back to now. My friend in Cómpeta , Dave, who is a great photographer ~ loves analogue photography, has given me the encouragement to take black and white photos again. Some on a digital camera. Some on iPhone. Some on both. Dave shoots on proper film and develops the photographs in his darkroom. I wouldn’t be allowed to be near the chemicals but more to the point I neither have the skill or the patience. It’s digital all the way for me. I envy Dave. He has more control over the finished photograph in the development stage. He exhibits his photos as well.

So this is a different blog than usual. Not a Garden blog. Not a Travel blog. But a Bit of black and white.

We have driven this lane so many times over the last 30 years. I’ve always called it ‘Pig lane’ which it isn’t. But there is a large stone statue at the top end of the road of a Boar. I love the hedges when they have been freshly cut as the road draws your eye through what could be a maze. It’s a very different picture later in the year when the hedges are in full growth. And when you meet an artic heading up to the agricultural tractor place at the top. But to me it’s quintessentially English countryside.

Hello Waterloo station. I had been in Somerset for 3 weeks and because I’m an idiot who had forgotten an appointment for 6pm on a Friday I had to get the train from The Temple of Doom up to the city. Those that know know. For those that don’t The temple is Templecombe station. A pretty little station which is handy to get back to Clapham or Waterloo. Or Exeter. Or Salisbury. I thought I had time to kill so had a wander through the concourse. Well actually above it looking down. People coming and going. All with their own story to tell. Or not.

Somerset. We can see these trees from the bedroom window high up in the fields behind the cottages. I love the shapes especially as the sun goes down. Looking back at the photos there are many shots of these.

There were some benefits of lockdown. It made us walk a lot more. We found places that were on our doorstep but we had never been to. When I was working it was home to office to home and an escape to Somerset on a Friday night. Or a Thursday when I dropped my days. This is Burgess Park. Not in lockdown but a few weeks ago. We were walking back from London Bridge through the park. No filter. An opportunistic shot. One I am framing.

Another on our walk back through Burgess Park. Quite often there are people fishing at this spot ~ little tents erected. Fishing wire. Little camping seats. Today they were the other side of the man made lake.

Competa. Trees marching up or is it down one of the mountains It’s a great sight as we drive in and out of the Pueblo Blanco. I keep expecting them to tumble down in the wind and not be there the next time we pass by. Competa is 2,000ft above sea level.

The awesome structures of the Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias Valencia. The buildings are awesome. Futuristic and one episode of Dr Who was filmed here. We have visited Valencia twice and will be back.

Tickets please. The beautiful station in Valencia. A stunning entrance hall. A fabulous original row of ticket sales windows. Glorious in colour. Atmospheric in black and white. This is another that will be printed and framed. Thanks to Dave I use a place in Valencia for printing as these will be framed for Competa.

Waiting for Ian near London Bridge. The shard ahead. The old and the new. After 40 years in London I still love its architecture which changes like the seasons. Buildings pop up all the time and the skyline views are amazing. The costs of getting to the skylines are amazing as well.

Valencia. I love Valencia. A walk through the narrow streets through the area with a lot of antique shops. Compra ~ Venta. We did neither. Everything I wanted wouldn’t fit in my small carry on case. But we are off to Barcelona soon and guess what. The Spanish Mr Glass has a shop there. Makes note. Take a large suitcase. Each.

This blog is like me gardening. A bit of a butterfly. Flitting from one bit to another. I do that gardening. A bit here. A bit there. A bit over there. This photo is back in Competa. Well it may be Competa. It may be Canillas. What I do know is that it’s the walk between the two.

Bilbao. It was cold outside. Cold and wet. That was us too. So we stopped for coffee. I loved the picture on the wall. We walked past the Guggenheim the night before ~ it’s such a stunning building. The people in the photo are a bonus. Currently being framed.

I liked this one so much I’ve had it framed and it’s ready for hanging. Another one in Bilbao. I just loved the street scene ~ we were staying just along the road but I never got another chance. Another opportunistic shot.

People said what would I do in retirement. Take photos. Travel. Sleep. Be bored. Never.

As a foot note. Black and white photos are timeless. Two from the chocolate box. One late 1950,s. One early 1960,s. Neither taken by me.

Posted on February 22, 2023February 26, 2023 by happyretiredblog

Hello. Where are you?

I love it when photos pop up on one of your social media accounts as a memory of where you were this time last year ~ or in this case in 2020. Today was a reminder the last time we really dressed up and went out out. When we were invited to a fancy pants dinner ( no dancing) at the Mansion House in London. A dinner for the Worshipful Company of Gardeners. Guests of two fabulous gardeners. Good fronds and excellent company. They know who they are.

How time flies. At that time we were going out and about to travel to Mexico. Pre pandemic. There’s been a lot happened since. Three years. Three prime ministers. And three or is it four vaccinations.

I had a message at the end of last week. Where are you? I can’t keep up. The trouble is neither can I. We are here and there and over there. Answering in Spanish when we are in Somerset. We were in Somerset. Essentially A five day gardening trip with some appointments with builders. Supper with friends and tea and cake with others. Ian’s highlight of the week. The arrival of godson Bradley to take two mattresses to the tip. I kid you not. It’s been on the list for ever. Taking up room under the bed. I still can’t get my head around the little baby I once fed ( bottle} now drives tractors and a car big enough to help us out.

We have travelled the route from London to Somerset for more years than I care to remember. The good thing is that I can. I should have counted the number of times we’ve passed Stonehenge. The number of times we have been stuck in that Queue. But it’s always been worth the trip. This time to a garden that’s always neglected in the winter.

Despite the neglect there are some things that reappear year after year other than us. Like these crocus. I have no recollection of planting them. I’m not a great fan of planting small bulbs. Thankfully tulips are os a suitable size otherwise I’d be in a bit of a pickle. But these have multiplied over the years and obviously I have accidentally moved some as there are patches popping up elsewhere. If you see me ordering small bulbs stop me. You should have last year when I bought teeny tiny alliums. Never again. Big fat bulbs of Allium yes.

We as in the royal we have had a good old tidy up. There has been cutting back. Clearing. Emptying pots of compost where the plants have given up the ghost. I should have put them in the greenhouse but to be honest it’s probably warmer outside. I had planned to get a new greenhouse.p 8 years ago. I’ve been patching it up badly I might add. A new one is on the list. The never ending list of lists.

There is a large terrace at the back of the house with some nice paving. Well when it’s clean it may be nice and that’s a job for another day. Or week. Don’t look at the fence which at the height of sumner you can’t see. Don’t ask about it either. It’s a jointly owned fence. If it wasn’t then there would be a new one. I’ve uncovered the slime off the tops of the agapanthus pots to discover tulips popping through. I’m convinced I’ve lost the agapanthus but I’m not giving up yet. If I have then I’ll get some more. They light up the terrace in the summer and are drought friendly so ideal.

I watch in awe as friends post on social media of the snowdrop frenzy at this time of year whilst being thankful we don’t have any. Except we do. A small clump under the ancient and dead apple tree covered tightly by the rambling rector. There have been a few of those in this parish over the years. Rambling rectors whose sermons have rambled on. . This one has been in the garden for over 30. The rose. Not the rector.

I tried to get a decent Photo of the snowdrop in the garden. Give me the chance to photograph an agapanthus any day. There’s no getting down on one lneee or both to get ‘that shot’. Getting downs not usually too bad. Getting up is. I will stick to standing photos only. But this flower is rather lovely but I’m going to resist going down that rabbit hole of snowdrop desire. Well I will try anyway. Says the man who already has started his 2024 tulip list.

One benefit of the cutting back and a grand tidy up is that the primroses and the bluebells are getting some light. Primroses remind me of childhood walks along the Rusty line ~ an old disused railway line whose banks were littered with primroses. I bought some more last year to plant in a grassy area but also think I should plant some on the river bank. Or should it be wild garlic. Or lovely blue wild chicory. Or all of them. Where’s my list?

Blue bells. ~ but are they Spanish or English. Interestingly ~ well for me anyway. I have never seen a Spanish bluebell in Spain in fact I’ve never seen any bluebells in Spain. . A few years ago a neighbour whose garden I love and who is a proper gardener, indeed an expert said that I hadn’t asked her to come and see the garden. I know. For me it would be like asking Picasso to come and look at my paintings. Or Mario Testino to look at my photographs. But I said if she’d like to come and look then she was always welcome. Right she replied. I will be around on Sunday at 2pm. Cold sweats. Hot sweats. Weeds pulled. Nail scissors taken to the grass and she did come and have a look. But I always remember her saying. I hope they aren’t Spanish bluebellls. If they are you need to dig them up. Every year since I look.

Pulmonaria grows like a weed in this garden. I could cover the garden with this ground elder and bindweed. It’s now growing well on the river bank and is always a welcome colour splash at this time of year and with it dotted all around the garden and is a great attraction for early pollinators.

The garden is wet in the winter. Even with the rainfall this winter the ground is wet. Bulbs don’t do very well in the back garden as they generally rot. So there are not many of them. The dahlias I left in are useless. Some years they are ok but this winter has been at times both wet and very cold. So it’s no surprise really. I’ve lost the daffodils along the greenhouse as well ~ a few are through but don’t look promising. I get asked why I don’t plant the tulips in the garden when I empty the pots after they have died back. I’ve done it once and it wasn’t a success. Too much effort for little gain. Last year I bagged them up and people who wanted them for their garden took them. But I must remember to water the tulip pots. They benefit from a weekly watering if you want decent flowers.

Once the lawn dries out a bit it will have its first haircut. Not a short back and sides but a gentle trim. I hate how at this time of year there’s a well worn path compacting the grass on the walk to the bottom of the garden and the compost bin. That’s along with the cat walk ~ not us practising our model walk up and down the garden ~ but the local cats path through. That and then badger when he can get across the river.

Im trying to plan a few things differently this year. Where to plant the runner beans. I’ve got an ear worm of my dad telling me I have to dig a trench. Growing up one of my jobs in the garden was to dig the annual trench for two rows of runner beans. This would be filled with all the peelings from the veg and newspaper. My father was disappointed to find that I didn’t continue to do it in my own garden. But as I’m a creature of some habit I suspect the two rows I put in will be in the same place and the ideas for the dahlia bed will not materialise either. I will have dahlias as I love to pick them for the house.

But we have made one decision and that is a new log store. Ordered and a place identified for its position. It’s all part of a bigger plan but that’s for another day.

There’s still a lot to do. We put in this inexpensive arch decades ago and it’s now smothered with the scent of honeysuckle. Not now obviously. But at the height of summer it’s glorious. But it needs a bit of a haircut ~ like me. It’s in front of the pergola which was put up two decades ago when we bought no 4 to make the two terraces flow. My big mistake then was bad planning for growing over it. but I have a plan. There’s a theme in this blog. Plans. Garden. House. Cottage. Oh another arch is planned toward the bottom of the garden.

So the work will continue this week. Some digging. More tidying. Cake eating. But. I have a day planned in Bath on my own. Except for my camera. And dreaming of tulips. Like the ones at Columbia Road Flower Market today.

Posted on February 11, 2023February 26, 2023 by happyretiredblog · 2 Comments

A cold & wet Mediterranean garden

Another eventful trip done. A trillion miles walked ~ OK that’s a bit of an exaggeration but that’s what it feels like when you squeeze as much into 4 days as you can. Am I complaining. A bit ~ I need to learn to pace myself better. I’m not as young as I was. Or as I think I am. I was reminded that I have shoes older than some of the people on the paella lesson we had in Valencia.

We were lucky with the weather in Valencia. Warm days but cooler nights. We knew that when we got home and up the mountain it would be cooler. First we had to battle the obligatory boarding chaos that seems to happen often. I blame cabin baggage and the fight to stuff as much as you can in the overhead lockers before anyone else can. We were away for 4 nights only but still had a carry on. A bag that is. When we come straight to La Casa we can travel with a tiny bag.

The drive from Malaga home takes an hour. The main roads in Spain move freely nearly all of the time and this route skirts along the coast of the Costa del Sol with glimpses of the sea and the mountains. It also means that on leaving the airport the temperature was 16/17* When we arrived 2,000 ft up the mountain the temperature had dropped considerably. Some 8 or 9*.

The campo houses aren’t built for winter. They were primarily used for the summer with the families spending winters in town houses. Poor or no insulation means when it’s cold it’s cold. Not ice on the inside windows which we had growing up but cold. Especially when all shuttered up. The sun warms the house during the day even in winter. But when the sun drops. I repeat myself a lot. So does Ian. He tells me often the same thing. Usually. ‘Andrew. You’ve already said that.’ But I’ll say this again. Good neighbours are worth their weight in gold. They are diamonds. We arrive home and there are the basics waiting for us. Bread. Milk. Biscuits for me. Orange juice. And because it’s cold the fire has been lit.

It’s a very small thing but to us it’s huge.

But once the tea is poured I have my own routine. The garden check. It’s been a month and even at this time of year a lot can happen in the garden. We have help. It would be impossible to maintain the garden if we didn’t. There are large parts which look after themselves but not the main area around the house. At this time of the year it’s pruning time. I have nether the knowledge or the time to do all of the pruning. But we are fortunate to know someone that does. We arrived to the grape vine pruned. A lot of the oleander pruned and the transparente cut back hard on a bank I just couldn’t manage myself.

There are two things I’ve learnt about having someone else do the cutting back. They cut far more than I would and two is that it’s ok. It grows back thicker and better. Unlike my hair. The gardener had cut back an Australian wisteria earlier this year. Cut it back to bare wood on the gates. I stood and stared and said to Ian. ‘That will never grow back.’ To be fair it had a lot of bare wood behind some green growth and flowers. Now we had twigs. I went out and bought a new one as I was so unconvinced it would grow back. How wrong was I. We arrived back and bingo ~ one side ~ the sunnier one showing great new growth. A lot. Lesson learnt.

The other thing you get is more light which means better growth for the plants. And a better view of the pine trees and the bank.

There’s no better place to deposit my money. Viveros Florena our local go to place to buy plants. To get advice from Lorraine. I may have told the story of the book. The book bought even before we had exchanged on the house. Expensive as I bought it on line in the Uk. When Ian rolled his eyes at my spending money on yet another gardening book only to unroll them when we arrived at the house for another viewing the book in hand to be told by the vendors that The author of the book was the owner of the above. 10 mins drive from the house. Quicker if you take the short cut. Which I don’t. The book and Lorraine’s advice has been invaluable!

Back to the garden. We have had rain. Some pretty cold spells with sleet and frosts. Expected in the Somerset garden. Not what I expect here. There have been times when the temperature has been colder here than in the garden in London. But it’s green. We both commented on the drive up the wiggly road just how green it was. That’s when I could see straight ahead. I still don’t take my eye off the road for one minute ~ sharp bends and big drops.

I love the variegated yucca in this bed. I much prefer them to the green. But I’m going to have to come to terms that we may lose them. There is a bug that has been attacking the large agave and it’s now moved into the yucca. Not just in this garden but all around. First it was the cochineal fly decimating the prickly pears. Then the large agave were dropping. With cochineal fly you could see them. With the agave and the yucca it’s hidden. I have remove a few smaller ones but I have to realise that these may go the same way. It’s incredibly sad that a lot of large mature plants will die. As you drive from La Casa to the town there are visible signs of the agave problems. We had an access drive with huge agave. Now all gone.

These were Ian’s request. The cactus that’s not a cactus ~ euphorbia candelabrum. growing in two smallish pots and tied to the railings so they don’t blow over. I love them. Good choice Ian. I keep thinking I should plant them in the garden but I don’t know where. They need to be pretty stable and not blow over.

The curry plant. Trimmed back last year which meant I lost the yellow flowers but it had gotten too straggly and pretty ugly. I may give it a slight trim this week to keep it in shape. The cold weather means no curry smell unlike the heat of summer. There are three under the olive tree which has hard a hard trim. It’s been haircut time all round.

It’s almond blossom time and it’s lovely driving through the campo and seeing the pink and white blossom. We have 5 trees at the back of the house. All planted before we arrived and one is flowering. The others are only just budding up. There are two different types of almond trees in the garden but don’t ask. I have no idea. I’m sure the question is in my list somewhere. I think one is a bitter almond. Every year I pick them. Dry them on a tray in the sun. And then do nothing with them. Talk about taking a hammer to crack a nut. I gave up the will to live.

The cape honeysuckle which originates from S Africa is flowering well. It’s at the back of the house up,with the almonds and I don’t get to see it very often. It’s a great evergreen autumn ~ winter flowering stalwart in the Mediterranean garden. I suspect it need a bit of a trim too. I have bought another. Along with a host of other things.

There is a very old banksia rose climbing through the jacaranda which has starting flowering since we were last here. very delicate yellow,flowers with even more delicate buds scrambling from the tree across to the white walks of the garage. A welcome sight at this time of the year.

I love the leaves of the loquat or nispero as it’s called here. The leaves are large and archtectural. We have two,trees with a third appearing over the last two years. There is fruit in the two,larger trees which is a surprise. Not because it dies t fruit but beaches usually the flowers go mouldy and the fruit dies t form. There is still time for the fruit to do the same. These trees are a fairly common sight in south east London on our walks and I can think of three that we pass regularly. I’d like one for the Somerset garden. Adds to yet another list.

I was hoping this mimosa tree would be flowering when we arrived but I think it will be another few weeks. This wasn’t here when we bought La Casa ~ 6 years ago ~ there was only the remains of the old one. A dead stump. Now we have a sign I can’t tree which will cause more sneezing than I would like. It’s pollen is a real hay fever starter. But it looks absolutely glorious in full bloom.

I have been trying to save this prickly pear for the last 6 years. It was going well until lockdown and we have had a bit of a set back with the lockdowns when we weren’t allowed to travel. It’s a hard task but I’m determined. You can just see a bit of the white fly ~ cochineal fly. Tomorrow that will go.

I mentioned that the oleanders have been cut back hard. Except one or two. This is one and it still has last years seed pods attached. They are fascinating setting off as red seed pods and when ripe bursting to throw the seeds out into the garden. Everything in the Mediterranean garden seems to be poisonous. The oleander particularly so. three years ago I had a run in with one. Don’t ask. I don’t know which one but I rubbed my eye when gardening and it swelled up badly. A singularly unattractive look.

The glorious melianthus major standing tall in the back or front of the border. Depending how you look at it. I pas a large clump on my way to Peckham Rye station in Holly Grove gardens and have wanted some here. These were bought last night and flowered. When we weren’t here. I suspect that will happen again this.

Echium candicans. I’ve tried echium before and last year was my first success. It looks like there will be flowers but not this one as I only planted it today. Along with 5 others. Why leave 5 back at Viveros. When I can find a home for them. Mostly disease free.. Tall. Drought tolerant. With lovely blue flowers. Great. If I get them to flower.

Maybe the massive violet carpenter bee will be attracted. The bee is big and beautiful with gorgeous wings when the sunlight catches them. You can hear them coming. They have the noisiest buzz. A common sight in the Spanish garden.

The sun comes down on another trip. It’s been a busy one. Meeting up with friends. Lunched and suppers. Gardening. More gardening.

Who said retirement would be boring!

Posted on January 8, 2023January 14, 2023 by happyretiredblog

Adiós 2022. Hola ‘23

It’s been a glorious Christmas and New year. We missed being in Spain for Xmas 2021 and this year even the weather was kind. Lovely warm days. Cooler nights. Broken heating in parts but a lovely clean chimney so the fire burned even brighter.

The sunsets at this time of the year are pretty spectacular and this year they didn’t disappoint. Many a night I’d suddenly jump out of the chair ( not literally ~ not with my dodgy hip) to go and stand on the terrace and watch the sun go down. This is our 6th December on the mountain and I never get tired of the sunsets. But then again very little tires me from our Spanish adventure.

But the trip wasn’t all festivals lights and food. Almost. But not quite. I’m still not back to being great in crowded spaces so our festivities were pretty low key as most of them are for us these days. small groups of friends for supper or coffees ( and the obligatory cakes) outdoors. Oh. And the garden. There’s always work to be done in the garden. We do have help ~ there are so many plants which I still am unsure about. The pruning the feeding. The timing of both. But our help knows and appears at the right times to do what is required.

Two weeks before we arrived there had been rain. A lot of it but still not enough. We still don’t have mains water every day out in the campo. . But enough to make the countryside look green again. There was also the signal of a new season. On 1 January we noticed that there was a lot of smoke hanging over the Valley. No. Not a new pope but the signal of a new season where bonfires were officially allowed. I’d forgotten that there are strict rules on the months you can and cannot have a bonfire. My rule is never in our garden. Call it paranoia which is correct but I’m terrified of a lone spark setting the campo alight.

Things are starting to wake up. The first freesia are flowering along the path and there are many more in various stages to continue. The first two were picked and given to a neighbour. Sadly last year we lost a dear friend, his wife who together with her husband checked the house for us during the year we were unable to travel and who would water the garden ifit needed it. I’ve said it before. Good friends are a joy but good neighbours are awesome. When we weren’t at the house she would pick any flowers ~ after my constant nagging at first ~ and freesias were her favourite. So it was appropriate that the first of this season went to her house.

Hiding in amongst various pots or rather languishing there was a surprise. I had thought the colocasia mojito which has been bought and paid for at Vivero Florena before one of the lockdowns and stayed there for months and months had died. It came home when we could return and I had thought it was a another casualty of the drought and severe heat. But I move the pots around. A lot ~ my late sister did the same with furniture ~ and I found that the plant hadn’t died and it’s gorgeous silky leaves were again growing. Fingers crossed it continues.

Another surprise was on the central border. These Carpobrotus edulis were straggly. Dry and almost non existent over the last few years. But I cut ( hacked) them back last year and thought if they recover they stay. If they don’t they go. It looks like they listened and hopefully we will get those glorious pink flowers again this year. Native to South Africa it must have liked last years extreme heat and drought. Also known as sour fig, or ice plant. We also have a large clump on the rear bank which to be honest I largely ignored this visit. The bank. Not just the clump.

Instructions have been left for the almonds to be pruned and I’ve just realised I haven’t mentioned the fig. But I did mention the bottlebrush which needs a good tidy up.

This is a flower from two or three years ago. The problem with not being at the house permanently is we often miss what is flowering. Although we do get sent photos. Seeing how well these are doing I must get some more or split these for the dry bank at the front of the house.

There is an ever increasing bed of these at the side of the house. I always think they are in the way out as the lower parts go dry and crusty. But they never cease to amaze me by throwing up their orange tall flowers. Childish I know but I help saying Aloe Aloe when I pass. But I am. and I do. Nobody is listening anyway.

I love the Strelitzia. Some years we see them. Some we don’t. This one is in full flower and there are eight more flower spikes dotted around the garden in various stages of growth. We will this year at least see some. The ones I want to flower the most this year are the strelitzia Nicolai. They are very tall plants with flowers high up. Blue/black and white flowers. Someone once said you should look up as you walk around London. The upper parts of the buildings are more interesting. Well the same can be said about a lot of plants. Especially this bird of paradise. Huge fat banana type leaves. Shred like mad in the wind. But despite that I’ve planted three more in the garden. By the time I reach 50 ( in my dreams) they will flower.

Theee isn’t much colour at the moment. Well there is but not bright colours. Except for the bird of paradise. The few Clivia. And the start of the freesia. But the foliage is looking good though. The grape leaves turning colour. Well the ones that are still on the vine which they are still this year. They should have all fallen by now ready for pruning. The dodonea is looking great.

I have also spent time scrubbing up a lot of agave from the garden. First it was the prickly pear. Attacked by the white fly ~ the cochineal fly. Whole swathes of them rotting along the roadside. I have saved two in the garden. It has been a hard slog but worth it. But. There is now something attacking the agave. You don’t know it’s happening until the keel over and die. They attack from below. We had a lot on the communal road but they have all gone. We had a few large ones on the roundabout that’s not a roundabout. Gone. I wandered around the garden scrubbing up more dead ones. This small one will go next. It’s also attacking yucca. Which will be a shame if it gets ours as there are a number of large variegated and non variegated ones. Fingers toes and legs crossed.

We have one of these in London. In a pot. In the top floor bedroom. It makes me chuckle to find plants in the garden in Spain that we have in the UK as house plants. Like the Swiss cheese plant. One of the staples in our house growing up. With a rubber plant which my mother cleaned the leaves with milk. Don’t ask. I have no idea whether it was skimmed full fat or semi skimmed. What I do know is that it wasn’t soya.

Thankfully this prickly cactus is on the bank on the way up to the house. It’s a nightmare if you get to close but it’s redeeming feature is it’s flowers. That’s why it gets a reprise.

I salvaged this Aeonium once again from a falling over in the wind. It’s in a large pot now. Staked. The broken limbs have been planted in the garden. Last years breakages have taken well.

Another house plant we had growing up ~ Tradescantia pallida I think and growing strongly but very brittle in a bed outside the door. Very pretty leaves. Pretty flowers but breaks off every time you pass. There used to be on on our kitchen window.

I couldn’t post without putting in a photo of the foxtail agave. This one is in the ground at the rear of the house. I have about half a dozen more that need replanting.

Ian often reminds me of things I’ve said. Like. ‘No more pots ’. As this demonstrates I’m tone deaf. I have had a move around. But I haven’t lost any.

Sometimes things shouldn’t work. These ferns shouldn’t but they are getting bigger and bigger. I can’t repot them again. They have to be moved using a sack truck.

First ignore the irrigation pipe ~ it hasn’t been used this last year. The photograph is of the sea squill ~ Urginea maritima. Planted over three years ago they are all now coming into their own. Green leaves which die down totally. Then later the tall white flower appears. Totally drought tolerant the bulbs are huge. Peter Nyssen supplies me with them. Good old Peter Nyssen.

One bit of colour. A little bit of rain and back comes the flower. Although two bushed have been lost in last years drought.

Finally. The space aliens have reappeared ~ Plectranthus. I’m not sure of the species and it dies have a scented leaf. Spreading slowly and making a bit of ground cover.

That’s it in the Spanish garden for a few weeks. Oh. But I did plant the tulips. The white wall has been planted with palmyra tulips. Last years Armani did well so I hope these do too.

I have planted a few pots with Dutch Dancer ~ black hero and El Nino and a few with a random selection. Which of course I haven’t labelled. Yes. They are late. Yes it’s a risk but at least I didn’t have to defrost the compost of dig three inches of ice off the top.

Back in London and tulip planting continues. They have almost all been done. Two large pots to finish once the emergency top up from Peter Nyssen arrive. But that’s it for tulip planting. I’m starting to plan early for next years. ( believe that if you will )

Posted on December 20, 2022December 24, 2022 by happyretiredblog · 2 Comments

So this is Christmas. ~ the start of.

What will you do when you retire they said. You will be bored within a month they said. Well here we are heading into year 8 and I can honestly say ~ bored. There’s no time to be bored. We have one life and if things have taught me anything it’s that you have to make the most of it. None of us knows what’s around the corner.

But sometimes you do have to slow down. The last few weeks have been hectic. I’ve finally managed to plant the tulip pots in Somerset. Well most. But the remaining three and the London pots will be done in the first week of January. We have zoomed up the A303 when I would have rather taken the train. I wish.

We haven’t been in Spain for Christmas since 2019. Lockdown in 2020 and Fred the cat having a fit just before we were due to leave in 2021 meant we missed those two years. But we are back. The flight was on time. A really busy flight. Unlike Spanish airlines masks are not mandatory. People may say it doesn’t make a difference. But it comforts me. Call me mad. I don’t care. But it was like the coughing express. A late evening arrival and a dark drive up the wiggly road. I still get that feeling of joy as I arrive at the village.

Back after a deluge of rain last week to drier weather. I’m not complaining. The rain was needed and we need more. But even with last weeks rain things are greening up ~ small shoots of what’s to come in Spring.

The roundabout that’s not a roundabout was burnt to a crisp when I left two weeks ago. It had been cut back in late summer as I was worried about fires. Wild fires are a thing here in Spain and I have a great app that lets you know where they are. I’d here you know when there is a local fire as the helicopters fly in carryin water and water home the fires.

But with last weeks rain it’s already showing what’s to come in spring. Already there are shoots of the yellow oxalis ( Oxalis pes-caprae ) coming through. Last year was a poor showing but I’m hopeful we will have a sea of acid yellow come spring.

The light up on the mountain is great ~ great sunsets and sunrises. Not that I often see the sunrise and they are the other side to us. But the morning light and colours are often great. I’ve been out to check a neighbour’s house and have a wander outside ans across to the roundabout that’s not a roundabout so caught it.

I did some planting before I left just over two weeks ago and the rain has certainly been welcome to help get them established. I planted a climber on the fence after we had things cut back ~ an edible passion flower ~ which is still alive. The grasses I planted on the curved path are happy. As am I as I think they are fab and will order and plant some more.

The summer was harsh. Drought is bad enough but add in extremes heat and everything struggles. But it’s surprising. Torrential rain for a week and things are already springing into life. There are alliums romping away. In December. Yes they flower earlier here. But it seems very early to see them now.

I hacked this curry plant back hard earlier this year. Shaped if a bit like topiary. It was straggly and pretty unsightly. Like my hair if I don’t get a regular cut. Think Leo Saysr or GIkbert O’Sullivan. There were few flowers in the summer but they are pretty insignificant anyway. But. It’s has a major growth spurt. I did think of planting the edge of the path with them but in reality yes they would look nice but they do give off a whiff of curry in the heat. I’ll stick to rosemary. Don’t suggest lavender. Lavender and I aren’t the best of friends. Unless it’s sprayed on a pillow. From my friend Saskia ~ That’s another story. But I’ve given up replanting the path with rosemary. For now.

I love strelitzia. This strelitzia Reginas has opened in the last three weeks and is in the border. I have one that’s stuffed in a pot with an agapanthus which has three flower spikes at different stages of growth. I suspect I won’t see any of them open before I head back to the UK. Strikes. Border control staff and transport permitting. If I can’t get back I have some free days. Back into the garden it would be.

There are two Clivia flowering. A bit early but then the weather has been bonkers. I first had one of these in a pot indoors about 25 years ago never thinking that one day I’d have them planted outside in my garden. I did have a yellow one decades ago and I’m on the look out for another. They have huge swathes of them at Malaga Botanical Gardens where I’m hoping to go next week to see the lights they have installed for Christmas.

The temperature is like a summers day but the grape vine knows it autumn. Look at the fabulous colours as the leaves die and drop off the vine. It will soon be time for the cutting back of the vine and once again we will save the cuttings and dry them. They make great starters for the wood burner. We didn’t even have enough black grapes this year for one pot of jelly. It often seems with a lot of things l. One good year. One bad year. I’ve kind of lost synch as we weren’t here for a year in lockdown.

No. That’s not our garden. Too much paving and it’s open to the public. It’s the Balcón de Europa in Nerja. A little jaunt down the windey road to the bank and the solicitor. I knew there was a reason to bank on the coast. I love it at this time of year. The coast. Not the bank obviously. Not as busy as the hotter months and the added bonus that at the moment the car park is free.

No time for the wicked and it’s back up the wiggly road. The ground is wet and ideal for planting. And guess what. I have tulips to plant. Not as many as in Somerset. The ku three outs and the white wall as they don’t do as well as in the uk. Not cold enough. I have a trip to the garden centre in my sights. Don’t tell Ian. He thinks I’m going just for compost. As if.

But that’s for another day. First there is a sunset to watch. This time of year they are special and I never tire of standing and staring. On a good day like today you can see the coastline of Morocco. Most days as long as the most isn’t down you can see the Costa del Sol coast. Today was a great day. All was very clear.

Tomorrow is another day. And a day that we will drive down the wiggly road again. Back to Malaga for an overnight stay and the Christmas lights.

Guess what. There will be photo’s. And reels. And walking.

In the meantime.

Posted on December 18, 2022December 19, 2022 by happyretiredblog · 2 Comments

Frosty Days. Cold nights.

Oh my. We are never happy are we. Too hot. Too cold. Too wet. Too dry. But I have to admit this last week or so has been Baltic. Been right brass monkey weather. The bonus against cold v wet is that at least you can layer up. Ok there are days when I looked like a Michelin man. But warmth over style rules when it’s freezing. But. A bit of frost. A bit of snow. Great for photos right?

This is the lane at the back of the cottage. The road to granny and grandads. Like the roundabout that’s not a roundabout Intalk about in Spain they aren’t my granny and grandad. But if you’ve read any of my blogs you’ll know that. Taken early one morning with a coffee in one hand and my iPhone in another. A morning chat with Farmer Paul on the bridge on his way to start the day with his cattle. To be fair I had gone into the lane as there was a water leak running down the hill. Don’t even get me started on trying to report the leak. Online report only. Wanted so many of my details before I could report. I nearly gave up the will to live

I usually creep over the old bridge. Not that I’d disturb the neighbours but you never know what’s on the river. That morning I could have kicked myself. Four. Yes four white egrets flew up as I passed. Try taking a photo quickly with coffee in one hand and the other hand in your coat pocket. Epic fail. But trust me. It was a sight.

There were some spectacular icicles hanging down from the viaduct. The ones hanging down our front door from an overflowing tank in the loft weren’t quite as spectacular but I nearly impaled myself on them as I opened the door. Thankfully quickly sorted. The leak. Not me.

It makes everything look so pretty. Not that I’m biased. I love the village and it is a bit picture perfect. But I love that it’s also still a working village. Cattle. Sheep. Hay. Straw and for my godchildren ( not the farming ones) ~ the DFL’s ~ the tractors and agricultural machinery.

I had the urge to recreate that scene from The Holiday where Cameron Díaz runs across the field back to the house. Two things stopped me. There wasn’t really enough snow. And the running. Oh. And Ian was still fast asleep back at the cottage. This field is Alders. Not the department store. But I suspect named after the line of alder trees along the river bank which are no longer. After the flood the line of trees on the bank were removed to allow the field to act as an overflow for the river.

Our decision to be at the cottage last week was to plant the tulip pots. I didn’t plan on the weather. I knew it was cold. I knew I was waiting for a cold spell. But I didn’t bargain on having to remove the top 4 inches of compost as it was frozen solid. I wanted to remove half of the compost anyway but not with a pick axe and a screwdriver.

But. I did it. Compost removed. New compost bought. But. Another but. The compost from the local gardening centre was frozen. I had no option. As well as warm my feet by the wood burner two bags of peat free compost were being de frosted,

And yes. I did it. Well. 12 of the 15 pots. The last two defeated me with more frost and snow.

These aren’t all the colours. As usual I started with the plan. And the weather and the cold got to me. So it will be a dolly mixture again this year. Plus. Three pots will be done in January.

Back to the views. The days and the light changes so quickly and as well as the frosty grey days the morning light can be magical. As long as you are up early enough. Wrapped up. And with a hot drink in your hand.

The same view on a different day. The day before the snow and frost pic. Look at that sky. No filter. iPhone 12 Pro. Right time. Right place.

Ifuvuvuvuvu

I haven’t cut anything back in the garden this autumn/winter. I’d like to say it has been planned. But in reality it’s either been too wet for this fair weather gardener or I just haven’t had the time. But it certainly makes for a pretty sight in the frost and the birds have been loving the seed heads. And one single frosted rose looked fabulous.

We both had to go back to London mid visit. The plan was to go by train and stay for two nights and head back for the weekend to attend a friends 60th. Best laid plans and all that. We had to be in London. So we had to drive. Being back we also had our usual walk through the park which was also looking good.

No sticking to the paths for us. I couldn’t walk on blocks of ice. No doubt I’d be flat on my back. But back to Somerset it was and a hideous journey with the A303 closed near Stonehenge and a diversion over Salisbury Plain. Great views. Slippery roads.

Just back in time for the carol service at St Leonard’s church Pitcombe. It’s been a while since I’ve been. Many years ago. Decades actually the parish priest called me a festival worshipper. Christmas. Easter. Harvest festival. Patronal festival. He didn’t say it as a bad thing. But he was right. I was there to sing the hymns & the carols. Oh. And for the mince pies and mulled wine.

I can’t remember seeing the stained glass looking so bright. Possibly as I was ambling along in the dark looking up for a change.

And no. I didn’t get the last three pots done. They had frosted again and I had lost the will to live. But I saw my godson who asked what I was doing later in the afternoon. Oh. I thought. He’s coming down with his girlfriend. No. Don’t be silly. I have my uses as does Ian. Any chance you can stand in the road. I’m bringing the sheep through from church ground and I need you both to stop them going up pitcombe Rock. How 20 years makes a difference. One day I’m feeding him his bottle. The next I’m watching him lead the sheep through the village.

That’s Somerset done until 2023. Strikes. Trains. Planes and weather permitting we head away for the Christmas and new year festivities. Some more tulip planting ~ I must take them out of the fridge before Ian realises that’s where they have been stored for the last month. I won’t need a pick axe to plant there. We have had the long awaited rain. And no. The rain in Spain doesn’t stay mainly on the plain.

There will be supper with friends. An overnight in Malaga to see the Christmas lights. A visit to the Botanical gardens to see the illuminations. Some gardening. Oh. And you know there will be the usual ramblings.

If not I’ll be planting those last three pots.

Posted on November 16, 2022November 18, 2022 by happyretiredblog · 4 Comments

Travels around Spain ~ Bilbao

We have been planning our trips away , together with various events for the next 6 months. Well you have more time in retirement and after nearly 7 years I might just have it down to a fine art. Although these days there are more doctor, dental and hospital visits to work around.

But Ian has hatched a plan. Instead of travelling direct to Malaga as we normally do we will travel via somewhere else in Spain. He has planned a number of places all meticulously researched and each with a reason to visit. There is so much to see and do in Spain and it gives us a taster for places where we may want to spend a little longer. But. Not longer than 90 days obviously. Don’t get me started on that. Just as I retired freedom of movement gets restricted. For everyone. But as my father said don’t get bogged down in discussion of sex, politics and religion. It’s a bottomless pit.

Sex, politics and religion together you’ll never get back. Not even if you shout ~ I’m a celibate get me out of here.

November is the first new style trip and guess what. There are a few photos and a bit of a blog. Ian likes to get to the airport a week before the flight so early starts are nothing new. Everything looks quiet when you are getting the 5,30am train from Peckham Rye to Gatwick. I’d normally feel like everyone’s grandfather travelling at peak travel time.

The men all have trousers that just don’t quite touch their shoes _ ankle flappers ~ beards., Beanies and headphones. I can’t quite bring myself to wear trousers that short. My mother would say ‘ what’s wrong with those trousers. Best you put some jam on your shoes and invite them down for tea’. Normally the station is a great people watching place. Not today. I’d have to either look at Ian or in the mirror and I didn’t want to start a row with either. Not this early on.

The airport was quiet too. Through security. With the usual body scan. I’m convinced they just don’t believe the body concealed under these baggy clothes is mine. That I’m hiding the cash bags from the great train robbery under my jumper. Less six pack washboard stomach. More washing machine and tumble dryer thrown in for good measure. But stopped I am as usual. Nothing to declare.

Oh. I haven’t mentioned. Bilbao if your interested. If not then best stop now because there will be pictures. A bit of a ramble. A mumble and the obligatory spelling mistake. Why Bilbao? Because Ian wants to and we can fly direct. Plus the added bounds of great food. Fabulous Guggenheim and plenty of walking. No hire cars but great public transport. Two tips. Comfortable shoes. Buy a Barik card for travel.

My first thoughts as we fly over the Baltic Sea into Bilbao? It’s green. Compared to flying into Malaga. It’s lush. I suspect because the rain is torrential. The flight into landing was wobbly. Just as well I woke up 30 mins before landing. I had only slept for most of the flight. Tip. Be prepared. Rain. Wind. Glorious sun. All within an hour.

The bus into the city was. Fast. Very fast. And all for €3. ( you can’t get a Barik until you are at a metro); And a spectacular view of the Guggenheim as the bus hurtled over the bridge Opened in 1997 ( the museum. Not the bridge) it is a stunning piece of work by the Canadian ~ American architect Frank Gehry. I didn’t realise that the building is featured in a James Bond film ~ The world is not enough. But to be fair it’s not a Bond film I remember. Or the theme tune. I’ve also read that Mariah Cary used various locations at the museum for her video Sweetheart. I’ve just had a look. Maybe I’ll just have to copy some of the poses in the video. And mime. I didn’t.

This is a view taken from the summit of Mount Artxanda. Reached by cable car which took longer to find the entrance that getting to Bilbao. I exaggerate. But once you know where it is it’s easy. But it’s worth it. Tip. Don’t walk up!

Back to The Guggenheim. Our first afternoon was spent getting our bearings. That and sheltering from hideous rain which came in from nowhere. We had walked down to the museum and as we arrived the heavens opened. Cats and dogs. But not before I got a photo of the outside and of the giant spider first seen in the turbine hall at Tate Modern. I remember it from back then but I think it’s positioning here is more spectacular. And just a little bit creepy. I don’t know if they were blowing dry ice or whether it was mist coming in. But it looked great. Well the couple ( not us) taking a wet selfie were enjoying themselves. Going back two,days later I can confirm it’s dry Ice. Also best to get a picture in the rain. It’s quieter.

We dragged ourselves back to our Airbnb to dry out ~ be very Spanish and have a siesta and then headed back out for yet another walk. The light of the day had gone and the Museum took on another appearance. I think it’s my favourite one and the photo was taken from the other side of the river. From this angle the building to me looks like a large ocean liner. Very beautiful. Elegant and majestic. And shiny.

I love the riverside walks when the lights are on and there are shadows. The walk there and back was great. And dry. The bridge we had crossed earlier in the day looked spectacular earlier but somehow the lights make it look beautiful. Maybe I’ll adorn myself with lights.

The day looks very different. But there again I suspect I look better in the dark. That’s not a request for people to agree.

The bridge I mentioned coming in from the airport runs along the side of the Guggenheim and again at night the lights make it look pretty spectacular. I hope they have energy saving lights!

The whole walk there and back at night was spectacular. Obviously the locals love the walk as well as every other person was out walking their dogs. Or maybe because the afternoon weather was so hideous.

We had been recommended to eat at the Plaza Nueva which is a short hop skip and a jump from the Airbnb. A beautiful plaza with some fabulous places to eat around it. The small bars and small places to eat are filled with locals. And a few tourists getting quizzical over the choice of pintxos. Not a commercial chain of coffee shops and pizzas to be seen. Thankfully.

I love how these city’s have the fabulous plaza. Madrid. Salamanca are two I like a lot. The Plaza; Neoclassical in style was built in 1821.

Is this what they mean by green energy! Bilbao tram runs over the greenest grass I’ve seen and it’s real. I went back and checked. The trams run around the side Guggenheim through trees and over grass and it’s a pretty cool sight. Although without my glasses on and no sign of a tram I would have walked across the grass not knowing that there were tracks.

We took the metro to get to the funicular railway and this is the carriage. Modern. Clean. Bright and looking great. This line was quiet Norman Foster was commissioned in 1997 to design stations for a new extension and they are awesome. The entrances ~ glass tunnels take you down to the stations. The curved structures are known locally as Fosteritos. The stations are airy. Light and spacious. They are a joy to,use. And whilst I know many people don’t think wearing a face mask makes the slightest bit of difference, in Spain you are obliged to wear a mask whilst on public transport. And people travelling on public transport here are all compliant. Me. I find it comforting.

I am surprised at how many Unesco World Heritage sites there are and how varied they are too. Spain has 49 sites and one is here in the Basque country ~ The Vizcaya bridge. It’s a transporter bridge and the worlds oldest, having been built in 1893. It transports both vehicles and foot passengers across the river. Bilbao was a major exporter of iron and the structure was the first of its kind to use a combination of iron and new steel,cables. The carriage is called a gondola ~ no idea why. ~ no serenading from me in a stripey top and a funny hat _ and carries six cars and a load of pedestrians. There is also a lift to the upper platform where you can walk across. Sadly [not] today was too windy. I think I would have had issues. Major issues.

I don’t remember this one being opened but I do remember the opening of the Severn bridge. The first one. I was still in short trousers and it was a major event. The bridge. Not the trousers. Growing up I remember having to get the ferry across or drive the long way round to get to Bristol or down to the coast. In high season the queues were bonkers. Although years later the naive new driver that was me would panic at breaking down on the bridge. There were signs that said if you broke down there would be charges of £25 min. I thought that it was a charge per minute. Not the minimum charge. I held my breath every time I crossed the bridge. But I did wear my commemorative badge for the opening. I’m not sure if it came from TWW. ~ Television Wales and West where a neighbour worked. Probably along with my Tufty club badge.

It was pretty windy down by the unesco heritage site but we managed a bit of a wander but to be honest after yesterdays marathon all I wanted was to get back toto base and have a cuppa tea & cake. Marathon? 25,000 steps.

There were some interesting buildings. The Town Hall. An old multi coloured train station. All shut up but we didn’t venture up into the side streets.

They like painted houses here. Talk of multi coloured swap shop and it’s not all Farrow and Ball or Little Greene either. Other options are availabl. Well I don’t recognise the colours if they are. I could probably repaint them all,with the sample pots we have in our cellar.

There was the odd bit of black and white along the river which is a stark but welcome contrast to the colourful houses.

Thursday was supposed to be a wet day but it wasn’t we had planned to go to the Guggenheim so we did. It amazes me just how cheap the entry to the museums and places of interest are in Spain. But Ian said it was a bit much for me to have time enter an upstairs window if I got the reduced price for a senior. What bugged me more is that they didn’t seemed surprised,

The structure is fabulous and the inside spaces amazing. Lots of steel; glass and shiny surfaces. But it’s incredibly light and airy and never feels too busy. Like a lot of museums I don’t get all of the art or sculptures but I’m sure I am not alone in that.

I liked these ~ an exhibition called masking identities. An interesting collection. Big. Bright and interesting. Not so the next painting which I just don’t get. No doubt someone will. But it’s not me.

Yep. That’s it. I stood and looked for a while. And looked. And looked. But still I don’t get it. I’m sure one of my artist friends will enlighten me. But I still won’t get it.

Have I said I like tulips? This was a great creation ~ a bouquet of multicolour balloon flowers. 2 metres tall and 5 metres across. These were part of the Jeff Koons celebration series from 1994. I loved them. I think I will put a blog with just photos o many to put here.

I suspect you’ve had enough by now. I have so the rest will be in part 2. Till then it’s an exit from the Guggenheim and a snack.

Posted on October 25, 2022October 25, 2022 by happyretiredblog · 5 Comments

Here. There. Over here.

So I’ve had a break. Yes I know I’m not long back from one. But this time it was solo. 7 nights at la casa. Alone. When we first had the cottage I’d occasionally go there on my own. My mother, who rarely went anywhere on her own in the nearly 70 years that my parents were married, would say. ‘ But won’t you be lonely.’ My reply ‘ No mum. I’ll be alone. That’s a totally different thing. To be fair Ian and I haven’t been together for 32 years by spending 247 together. Ask him how we have got this far he will say ‘ at first different counties. These days different countries. To be fair. He’s right.

It was an eventful flight over. The flight was full. Totally full. I found myself getting cross at some of the passengers. Then realising I was probably older than the ones I was getting cross with. The flight was 65% Saga and 20% 16-18 ye olds on a school trip. The first group was a Saga group which I was reminded that I am old enough by a long way to be a member. I’m a ditherer whenever flying. Checking the whereabouts of my phone. My passport. Ian. But multiply that by trillions and it was this flight. Not helped on arrival where we had to board the bus. Sadly I remember travel where you had to stand alongside the plane as the luggage was offloaded and you had to pick yours out. These days I rarely put luggage in the hold. It’s amazing just how light you can travel.

As usual I digress. But a quick run to pick up the car hire bus. Not pick up a bus. That would be silly. But the bus to take me to pick up the car and I was away up the mountain. Up the wiggly road whilst continually thinking just how dry everything was. Crisp I think was the word that went through my head. Still no significant rain. And still no sign of it coming. Oh and still we don’t have mains water permanently. This trip I gave up trying to work out what day we got it and what days we didn’t. Or even what times of the day.

I still get that feeling as I pull into the drive at the house. Usually the feeling after the drive up the wiggly road of needing the loo but always the joy of arriving to the gate. No. It wasn’t open for me ~ this was taken after the toilet stop.

When we first bought the house I had arranged to have a lock put on the gate. We completed and had a flight booked for two weeks later. Did I wait? No. Two days after completion I was here. No lock on the gate. I woke the next morning to find the gates being put into a pick up and about to be driven off. I went to the gate and realised they were going off to have the lock fitted. I asked in my Spanglish when they were coming back. How rude when the driver stuck up two fingers. Until I realised he knew my Spanish was pants and was trying to tell me that they’d be back at 2. They did come back. Not at 2. I realised at that time the meaning of the word manana.

The name of the house has this this year been accurate. Casa Verano Eterno. The house of Eternal Summer. This years summer has and still goes on. And on. And on. A bit like me to be fair but at some point the weather has to turn. Speaking of turning. Years ago I was having Accupuncture. My mother knew I hated needles. ‘What are you having that for? ‘ she asked. ‘To make me a nice person’. Really? She replied. ‘Does she have enough needles’ Apparentlyq not!!

The garden is so dry and it’s amazing what does and doesn’t survive. It’s such a huge learning curve for me. I keep saying it. There are drought tolerant and there are drought tolerant plants. I’ve lost things like gaura which have burnt to a crisp. The leaves on the agapanthus are scorched. Some salvias have survived. No flowers. But still alive. At this time of year there would normally be rain and there would be a further flush of colour. But there’s no rain forecast for at least another month. We are still on a day on few days off mains water cycle. But it is getting easier now the summer demand for water is reducing.

I’m always staggered at these ferns. They get some water but not a lot. They are in bright hot sunlight. Yet they are pretty magnificent. I’d never be able to replant them in new pots ~ one I’d never move them and two they are big enough. Three. I can’t actually be bothered. There are other things on the agenda. On Ian’s lists. Yes. They still appear.

The one thing about the heat is the slight whiff of the curry plant as you walk past on the heat of the day. I hacked these back pretty hard in Spring on the basis if they died they died. But they haven’t and have become more bushy. . Very few yellow flowers this year but I can live with that. They are under the large olive tree and the soil here is pretty rubbish too. But they do well. I did consider a curry path. But….. it’s not really the scented path I imagine.

There were very few grapes on the vine this year but the little there have been were eaten by the birds. I’ve realised I have the last two years vine prunings in the garage. They are great for lighting the wood burner. I’ve you bought any kindling this year. Is nearly doubled in price. Sadly we sing have grape vines in Camberwell.. I know nothing about vines and we had the Gardner from Vivero Fkorenas to prune for us. He’s Spanish and knows his stuff. We said we didn’t think it had been pruned for two years. He looked and counted. He said 5. He was right.

I spent most of the week in the garden. Weeding. Dodging the mozzies. Driving back and forth to the garden centre to collect compost feed to add to the soil. The soil on the garden is pants and needs work. I think I carried 21 bags back. Not literally. But in the boot of the car in a couple of trips. On Saturday I realised that I needed to go and get some more as the garden centre is closed Sunday and Monday. I had one bag left on the path. I thought I’d worked really hard lugging the bags around. So I headed off. Bought 4 more bags. Two more Clivia. And said to Lorraine ‘don’t worry. The car is down the ramp I’ll put them in the boot.’ I opened the boot and there were 4 bags. I hadn’t even taken the last lot out! Anyway. All bar one has been scattered on the garden. But look at the bags. To be honest I didn’t know whether to smoke it or scatter it. I’ve cautious. So I scattered it.

I did manage a short sit on the chair in the sun but I’m not one for sitting and getting burnt!

The view looking up the curvy path. I’ve lost the lavender again this year. So I’m giving up for now. It had two chances. And used them.

The creeping rosemary is doing so much better so I will continue to replant that. I have lost two very large rosemary bushes but I suspect they were pretty ancient. This path had some gaura. All gone. The agapanthus. The Clivia. The birds of paradise all doing ok. I have planted a new sesbania ~ an ornamental shrub with reddish-orange flowers. It has deciduous leaves and grows to a height of 15 feet. It says it likes water but the one we have already gets some but not a lot. The garden centre had some of the seeds from me and have grown them for me. Fingers crossed.

I make no excuse in including yet another photo like this. Growing in pots. With a fabulous view to the coast. As long as you don’t look at the dodgy hedge. I think we need some more for the bank. Not a cactus. A euphorbia.

Have you ever tried stripping the leaves off these yuccas. Well not these ones in particular but to be honest I’m very happy for you to. A bit of a nightmare especially without gloves ~ which were sitting on the shelf in the garage. But it cleans them up and I officially love the variegated yuccas.

There is always time for a cuppa and a piece of cake. The only trouble is that once I sit down it’s an effort to get back up. Sometimes I just don’t bother and stay there until I can. Watching crap tv. Or just loving the view. From the sofa. Especially on a solo trip.

A reminder of my years living with my parents. Except this plant is in the garden. Not in a pot in the house with the obligatory rubber plant and the spider plants. There are swathes of these monstera ~ Swiss cheese plants in the Botanical gardens in Malaga. And they look fabulous there. I’m not keen in the garden. In Malaga they are magnificent. But as long as it survives it stays. So far it’s done 5 years.

To be fair. Don’t feel sorry for all the hard work. All work and no play and all that. I did venture into Cómpeta. A few evenings at favourite restaurants. A walk around town.

Early morning light over the roundabout that’s not a roundabout. It was all cut back at the end of the summer and I’m hoping it will be awash with the wildflowers again next year. There are still wild fires happening around Spain which are worrying. That’s why I have the roundabout cut back. It worries me.

There are few flowers in the garden at the moment. I must ask what the first one is. It’s written down somewhere. UPDATE ~ you know when the owner of the local garden centre qheee i but my plants in Spain has read the blog. You get a message. ‘And the Red flower is jatropha integerrima’ Thanks Lorraine.!

Whilst there is little colour in the garden there are plenty of interesting leaves. Colour. Shape and texture. The large leaves of the black and white bird of paradise. Strelitzi Nicolai The gorgeous texture of the Colocasia mojito.

No garden post would be a Cómpeta post without the fabulous foxtail agave. I have replanted two and this pot contains a few more that need moving.

When we were in Cómpeta the last time we went on the fabulous Cómpeta Art Walk and Ian purchased these great black and white prints from our friend Dave at Cómpeta Portraits. These aren’t in their final place ~ maybe they are but Ian will need to decide. Along with two more that Dave has just framed for us.

So the week is over. A glorious last night view from the terrace down the mountain to the coast. An early night and an even earlier morning.

What idiot books a flight for 8.10 from Malaga for a Tuesday morning. Yep Ian. But for me. To be honest I don’t mind. I was up and out 4.45 to drive down the mountain and I met two cars untilI I got to the main road.

Back to the UK where a young boy with his father was at passport control and his father was joking with his son about the lady behind the desk saying she knew everything as she was friends with Father Xmas. ( sorry. Mentioning Xmas when Joseph doesn’t even know Mary is pregnant yet)

I couldn’t help myself. When it was my turn I said I couldn’t help overhearing that you are friends with Father Christmas. Could you do me a favour. I’ve been a good boy too so can you ask him to sort my b***y passport out. It never works on the E gates and I’m always sent to this naughty step! She laughed. ‘ sorry. I’m border control. If I was from passport office I’d love to help!

As I arrives back I get an email to say a parcel has arrived for me at the shop where all our mail is delivered. That will be my Peter Nyssen bulbs. I have returned home to boxes upon boxes of tulip bulbs. I may be quiet for a while. ( No chance).