November notes

Any quote or poem that mentions November usually includes the words damp, dismal, foggy, or dull. Well, I suppose given the last few days they may have a point. Emily Dickinson, whose poems I have never seemed to take to, despite thinking that I should, describes November as "the Norway of the year". Has the Eurovision Song Contest been going that long? I have never been to Norway, but I would like to, and I imagine it is a fine place during this month of Remembrance, Thanksgiving and my birthday.
So - instead of a trip to Scandinavia, I offer you a trip around my garden on this bright(ish) November afternoon.
Above is my front door, complete with my new planters. I also bought a couple of juniper trees to put in them, with a vague image of a Country Living magazine cover in mind. In a year or two - decorated with homespun twiggy stars, dried orange slices and cinnamon sticks maybe?


We are lucky to have a large conservatory which looks right out onto the fruit trees. It's a great space, and we always feel in part of the garden. I bought some new bird feeders and a nice selection of seeds, nuts and fat balls for the coming winter. The window feeder was a great success last year, and much time is spent sitting watching the birds going about their business.

A shy violet primrose peeks out from under the plum tree. What an uplifting sight!

Some pea shoots - escapees from the summer harvest, poking up in the new garlic bed.

A robin in a pear tree.

This is my bean trench for next year. Kitchen waste goes in, some soil goes on top and big fat beans will come out in the summer. Simple!




Glorious orange calendula. I always grow this, and intend to harvest the petals to make an infused oil. Somehow, though, I can never bring myself to pick them - I love to see their cheering colour when I walk down the garden.



My intended asparagus bed. Definitely a work in progress as you will note. All weeds will be eliminated and kept out by a weed suppressing membrane. Seaweed has been collected and will be dug in to the bed ready for the crowns to be planted in early spring. They can grow it in Perthshire, so I don't see any reason why it wouldn't grow here. Watch this space.



Just one raspberry plant escaped the clutches of the hens. It almost escaped me too, but I spied it in beside a clump of tall nettles. Gardener's perks ;)