I have taken up a haphazard and frankly blasé approach to gardening. Some people might scrunch their faces up at this. There are weeds. Rogue poppy plants. People asking me how we grow peonies*. (*Answer: they were there when we bought the house. I kind of let them do their thing). I employ Garden Darwinism. If you’re …
Don’t sideline your damsons just into jam. Please. There is so much more to that perfect black and dusty blue plum. Whilst they are rarely given in small quantities and they sit in a carrier bag in the kitchen for a day or two, they are umm-ed and ahh-ed over before being consigned to the …
We turned off our phones, roasted marshmallows, watched the sun set, hiked, ate at village pubs, drank cider and prosecco by the fire. We baked potatoes in the embers, seared steaks in cast iron pans and stewed apples from the orchard with blackberries. We read books, did crosswords and fell asleep in the bow top to …
Sometimes, you have to stand by your decisions as an adult. Like cutting your own fringe or deciding that fondant fancies for breakfast and diet coke for dinner is a totally acceptable diet. I stand by the word “quickles”. A filthy, amalgamation of the words quick and pickles. The Brangelina of the brined cucumber word. …
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