I have always said when asked, which is not very often, that if you are going to have a blog on your website then you should regularly update it. Otherwise people visit your website and, while ferreting around, discover that it has not been updated for years and it makes the whole place feel unloved. Like sweeping dust under the rug (which I think only happens in cartoons) or putting your dirty laundry back in the drawer.
Actually, this last is a practice I embraced when at school. It was a boarding school and you had to remember to send stuff to the laundry. basically I was too idle and disorganised (and teenaged) so regularly forgot. But, I discovered that if you put various bits of games kit back in the drawer then they seemed to be markedly less odiferous when you retrieved them again a week later. Teenage boys en masse are pretty rank: there was a chaplain who became a bit of a celebrity and appeared regularly on the radio and, when asked what was his main memory of teaching boys he said “the smell”. Unkind but probably accurate.
Anyway, I am writing this so there is something to show that my blog is occasionally loved. It is a bit passé I suppose. The days of blogs are over. I have toyed with starting up a Substack but it seems that almost everybody and their dog have one already and I have not got the time at the moment: a pity as I love writing stuff.
What has been happening? lots of gardens, basically. The odd article and some RHS stuff but mostly clients and gardens. It is lovely but quite exhausting: currently there are forty seven at various stages. I am really bad at saying no and still get very excited by new projects so I will keep on going.
I have not been anywhere terribly exciting so cannot do a travelogue for you so, instead I have dotted this post with drone shots of gardens. It is a newish toy and is really useful. The main picture is of the village where I live – when I first flew it here I got complaints as someone thought it was burglars casing the joint from above.
I am listening to Angelique Francis singing Long River.