08/06/2026
The garden looks so refreshed and sparkly this morning after another terrible night.
This relentless cold weather and almost non stop rain have left us three, nearly four, weeks behind where we would normally be growth wise. While some plants are doing well and flowering on time, their overall growth has been restricted. There are gaps in our views that should have closed up by now. The house feels enclosed in a wall of green once again, but not with the same intensity as in previous years.
The trees and shrubs we moved all seem to be suffering terribly from transplant shock. Some have failed to put on fresh new leaves after their first flush was savagely torn off by that awful cold, sharp wind we experienced in May.
It's a trying season in the garden at the moment. For the first time in a very long time, I almost feel like throwing my hat at it. Every time we get an area tidy and ready, the weather, and life itself, seems to get in the way, knocking us back yet again.
My displays are sitting there sulking, refusing to perform, or else offering themselves up as sacrifices to the slug gods.
I've never felt so close to asking, "Why do I bother?"
How can I expect visitors to enjoy the garden when there are times I don't even want to stick my head outside our own door?
Airbnb guests arrive, only to spend their evenings shivering in their rooms, the heating on full blast, with tantalising views outside their windows that, sadly, they can't properly experience.
For God's sake, we're still lighting the stove in the kitchen most evenings. Even The Models often refuse to go out for a quick run, preferring the warmth of the fire to a dash around the garden.
We treated ourselves to a new patio furniture set this spring, promising ourselves we would actually sit on it. Morning coffees would be slow but refreshing starts to our days, while evening beers or glasses of wine would help us unwind and appreciate the little piece of heaven we have created here.
Instead, we sit indoors with the fire lit, asking ourselves if we will ever truly spend time in our outdoor space, proper relaxing time, not time spent cleaning up after each seemingly unending weather system that rolls through.
Does anybody else feel the way I do, or am I alone in feeling so fed up?
Am I complaining about something that exists only in my own head?
I normally find such pleasure in life. This year alone we welcomed two beautiful, healthy grandchildren into our family, something that fills us with joy and gratitude. I know that all of us, Timmy and I included, along with so many of our faithful followers, have our own crosses to bear. Yet, in general, we are happy, healthy and alive, thank God.
All we're asking for is a little pleasant summer weather, something that warms the bones and makes you think "Life is Good".
So tell me again, am I alone in feeling this way, or are there others out there looking out the window and wondering if summer is ever going to arrive?
