Onto shrubs, the shrubbery.

(Question - is Monty Python so deeply ingrained in the English pysche that I can only say this with a speech impediment, as in Shwubwery!)

I've chosen 10 different shrubs and trees for a medium and long-term effect, autumn and winter colour and summer flowers.

So here's the thing I was surprised to learn: new gardeners have to learn a whole new language. Latin plants names. I obviously knew about Latin garden names and even remember genus, phyllum, species, family name, colliquial names sub divisions from school but I genuinely thought that this was just for tweed and pearl wearing stately home owning gardeners. But in order to look up the needs of the plants, the soil type preferences, it's sun habits, and planting months and so on, I need to know the Latin names.

Que sera sera. Qui veux peux.

I didn't think gardening would stray into the intellectual but I'm glad it has, being the eternal student type. (A bit more about me: I enjoy setting myself little goals, in the last 4 years, redundancy led to learning Thai cookery and making biscuits, offset with getting into running , which led to meeting Dear Husband! Working again, the year after was about painting walls, woodwork and other DIY for the first time. Then came a 3 month massage course with 9 months consumed by wedding arrangements. Then Pitch Puppy came along who needed a garden to play in.

So the next few posts will include all the latin and common names for the shrubs, Cornus Alba Elegantissima sounds much better than Dogwood, doesn't it? I'll try to include Dear Husband's clever little names too - just because they make me laugh. Dogwood to him are the sticks we throw that Puppy doesn't bring back (yet), and the Cornus in the garden are 'The Ones With Red Twigs'

First baby steps into the world of gardening

What do you do with a space at the back of an English city terraced house?

Deck the lot? How nineties. No, all-wood deck, pots and spiky tropicals are not my style one bit.

Grass and Borders is the way forward - Grass for the puppy to sit on and chew his beef knuckle bones, and wide borders crammed with evergreen shrubs and flowers planted in a sensuous cottage-garden-style, for my soul.


(This is Pitch Puppy, our 16 month old Labrador in a rare still moment on the lawn.)

Due to space limitations and the extra cost, I ignored Dear Husband's request for a shed. My fear that he'd simply stuff it full due to his hoarding tendencies, and the fact he may wa nt to actually live it, had nothing to do with it, Nothing at all.