Sweeping, watering, time out and the table I can't have.

Hello friends!

I hope you are all ok? Still in limbo? SAME. I’m aware that at some point my brain is going to have to make a shift and accept that this is how it is.

Monday

Another scorching day. I pull the rug off the living room floor and put it out on the lawn, because my garden table is now leaning so precariously that I’m not sure it can deal with another lunch (not that my lunch table heaves with food (sandwiches darling)…it’s just that children seem to USE tables to lever their bodies into places…I have only noticed this since my table has become unsafe…and now I am aware of it constantly - anything, ANYTHING presenting the opportunity for LIFT-OFF, so to speak, is used in order for their feet to free themselves from the ground. It happens with my garden table, but it also happens with any surface, even my knees if I happen to be in the miraculous position of sitting down…the hands are planted, weight thrust forward and feet levitate). I have been on the hunt for a new garden table for weeks now. I had a rude awakening when, having decided I was now in the market for one, and with a (what seemed to me) smashing budget in my head, I emailed Gaze Burvill - purveyors of exquisite wooden garden furniture, to enquire about their boardwalk table that I had seen two Chelseas ago and lusted after. The stand was was designed by the brilliant Butter Wakefield. She surrounded the table with glorious things, and anointed it with more glorious things. I particularly loved the green cushions on the benches…ANYWAY. I emailed them, and got a phone call which began with the usual pleasantries, and then progressed to lead-times in the time of coronavirus etc. Until finally her voice changed to an ‘are you sitting down’ voice. I didn’t need the price..dreams dashed before she divulged. I gulped and mumbled something about how the table was ‘one for the vision board’ or some such nonsense before putting down the phone and pulling my chin off the floor.

And yet of COURSE a beautiful, hand-crafted table with a lazy susan and four benches, all made of the finest oak and finished to perfection is going to cost the same as a car….of COURSE it is (and truly, I’d rather have the table than a car) However, it is not to be and I am back to the drawing board. Leaning now towards cast iron rather than wood and I will let you know how the thing progresses…scintillating isn’t it!?

I sweep and water, and yes, that’s still gardening but otherwise no gardening today.

Tuesday

I need to tell you about my weekend…it was sublime. Rotter took the children to his parents for the day and I had a good six hours to myself, in my own home, such happiness. I purposefully banned myself from doing any cleaning or tidying, and instead racked my brains to think of things to do that I would never even ATTEMPT with children around. And my thoughts immediately turn to the quilt kit that I purchased ten years ago for my now-eleven year old daughter and which hasn’t been touched since I bought it. This is something I’d thought about at the beginning of lock-down but had visions of pulling out the cutting mat, and the rotary cutter and the sewing machine and all the fabrics amidst the deluge of “what’s that mummy?” and “can I have a go?” and had put it to the back of my mind again. But Saturday was different. I pulled everything out and remove all the dust. I layed out the fabric. I cut and pieced and cut and pieced and cut and pieced some more until I had ten sixteen-patch blocks ready. And today, I piece twenty nine more, because two of my three children have gone back to school (reduced hours, and only half the week but I’ll take it). The little man who is left is rather more malleable than the two girls. He sits around and does lego while I sew. It really is VERY BLOODY NICE to do something different. I go out and cut a bunch of sweet peas when we get back from the school run, and begin chopping the alchemilla mollis (Lady’s Mantle) which is just coming into flower right now. I chop it back so that it will give me a later display, when other things start to get a bit tired and past their best. This is known as ‘chelsea chopping’ and can be done to lots of other things too, should you be so inclined.

And yes, I spend most of today thinking about racism and how I can be a better friend, and teach my children. It’s not enough to have an ‘in this house we believe’ poster in the kitchen. We must all go deeper and keep working to check ourselves at every turn. Sound exhausting? Try being black.

Wednesday

The children aren’t at school today and it feels like I have been suddenly been thrown back into jail again. It’s not that I dislike my children (please understand this) it’s simply that I need a little space. We wade through a bit of online schooling and then give up and go to the park.

The rain finally comes (not enough of it but it’s good to see you, rain!) I plant out the rudbeckia that’s been waiting patiently for my attention. Half of the seedlings have been munched by snails (or could it be just one snail) that made its way into the tray of water I had these little babies in until I noticed the destruction. I had some salvia seedlings in here too, but they were un-touched…perhaps they are less appealing…anyway, a couple of weeks ago, I moved the rudbeckia from the tray onto the edge of the table, which is ironwork, and full of holes, and I believe this prevented any snails from doing further damage as they couldn’t cross the various chasms in the table surface. The rudbeckia are going into the gaps between the newly planted salvia and the rest of the inhabitants of my flowerbeds (japanese anemone, geranium, sedum, etc), and I’m hoping the flash of yellow they give will be cheering and glorious along with everything else because goodness knows we need a bit of cheering up. Constant, relentless worry and concern is truly, truly tiring. As always, it is the garden that keeps me away from the edge. Thank you garden.

Thursday

More rain. The rainier it gets the happier I am. Sorry. But I still water the pots first thing, and then spend five minutes weeding the pots on my terrace, which are weed-tastic and need some love. It takes less than the allotted amount of time and I sneak in a bit of strawberry picking, and I also harvest a bowl of greens, kicking myself that I forgot to sow another pot two weeks ago. This pot of mixed leaves has taken a month to reach picking stage, but now that we’re ‘there’ I’ll be able to eke out a fortnight’s worth of regular pickings. If I’d sown another pot a couple of weeks ago, I’d have that one ready to take over from this. It’s something I love doing, having home-grown greens, and while it would probably be enough for self-sufficiency if we were in a state of permanent lockdown (and let’s not wish for that, friends) I still have to supplement with bought greens in a normal season, in order to feed people that we invite over. They do taste utterly delicious though - so worth the trouble of sowing a pinch of seed every fourteen days. Here is my salad-growing strategy if you’re interested in giving it a go. The hearted lettuce that I sowed a month ago is still at baby stage.

Friday

Proper rain, which I’m thrilled about, but there is the small matter of dealing with the children all day. We begin with collage…the sort where the child does three minutes and then you do the rest…sound familiar? I’m good with it. I end up watering down the glue and decoupaging the heck out of the thing. I zone out as I paint the glue on. I think they have all gone to the screens. I don’t care. Things immediately start looking better when the doorbell rings and a tray of krispy creme donuts appear. Rotter has his charms and this is one of them. Eldest is completely into her book, and there is a break in the weather so I take the small ones out to the park. We get there and the heavens open again, so we just get wet.

I had hoped to find the wherewithal for a huge pot of summer bedding today. I had meant to get myself to a shop and buy something fabulously over the top, and plant it in something large. But the urge dissipates with the hours that pass, and I end up, stuck to the sofa, practising my spanish and unable to move. I do go out and pick a big bunch of roses though, and spend a delicious half hour arranging them in a bowl. Other than this though, I’m content to see the garden drinking up the rain, and hoping that it’ll continue

All the good things dear friends

x Laetitia

PS you may have missed:

My favourite late summer flowers

Hanging basket recommendations

Tomato tips

PPS if you enjoyed this letter, do please ‘like’ it, so that I know! Thanks xxx