Something very annoying has happened. When I say ‘very annoying’ it is not as annoying as Brexit, crowded trains, spilled puddings, Instagram influencers or broken zips but still annoying. The fact is that, while procrastinating about something else, I found myself ferreting around in the backstage area of this website and discovered a blog post that I had written but completely forgot to publish.

I know that this blog has become so infrequent and blogs in general as numerous as gulls round a chip shop that there is not exactly a slavering crowd eagerly awaiting my next post but, it was annoying to have gone through the effort of writing the damn thing to no purpose.

Therefore I am now posting something that is very out of date…

This summer (author’s note: by which I mean 2018) I have attended a lot of flower shows. That may not seem that unusual as I am forever chuntering on here about judging this and swanning around that. This year, however, has been remarkable as I have not only attended all the RHS Shows – plus a couple of international offerings – but I have also designed four show gardens. For someone who purports not to want to do show gardens that is quite a lot…

Admittedly there has been a bit of duplication and I have relied upon the help of some fabulous people but, generally, it has, in spite of a level of exhaustion unbecoming in a gentleman of my vintage, been quite fun and has worked out pretty well. It began at the RHS London Show in April when I was asked to do a sort of reprise of the sound garden I made at Chelsea 2017. I wrote about it here but never got round to showing you the finished article – it basically involved making a woodland floor quiver with repressed desire. I, rather pretentiously, called it the Dryad awakens.

The second garden was at Chatsworth. Again it was unjudged and was a collaboration between me, a theatre set builder called Mark Winrow and some theatre design students from Worthing College. The idea came to me that it would be fun to hide a small but perfectly formed garden underneath an enormous bowler hat (it started as a teacup but moved on quite quickly). The hat would then mysteriously levitate into the air as if by magic every few minutes. At Chatsworth we arranged a rather delightful confection of roses (which smelt divine) and topiary. People were generally charmed and delighted as everybody likes a bit of whimsy.

The third was another sound garden variation but this time at the Moscow Flower Show (about which I have written many times) which was a bit more of a challenge mostly because Russians do things a little differently to us. That and the fact that the show collided with the World Cup so the place was teeming with foreign fans and every hotel was stuffed to the gunwales. Fortunately the hard work was not done by me – I sent my amazing sound kids out to populate six small tanks with water and sound. The garden was built by Jonas Egger (who works in Moscow so knew the score) and planted by Jamie Butterworth. I had sent him some images of what I wanted but basically it was designed by text message which seemed to work very well indeed. I was after a very small floaty meadow and that is precisely what he delivered. While all this labour was going on I was absent and only appeared for three days (to do judging and, as previously mentioned, swanning around) to enjoy the garden, absorb a bit of football atmosphere and to bask in the glory.

The fourth was another excursion for the hat, this time at Tatton Park flower Show. This time we planted it with Dahlias, a couple of nice Calycanthus, a good Hydrangea aspera and some various fillers. It was still popular although the hydraulics chose this show to be awkward and it upset the Health and Safety people by smelling of burning at one point. Eventually it became a less exciting version: the garden was still pretty but the hat no longer levitated. Still fun but a bit of a damp squib in the end.

So that was my summer and very delightful it was: I am now back writing this last bit in early March 2019 where, incidentally, the weather has suddenly come over all summery. This too is annoying as people are flitting around saying that it is spring: it most certainly is not and I would be very surprised if we did not drop back into days of freezing rain and icy winds afore long. This is just winter taking a breather.

We are now rapidly approaching the precipice of another show season and I have vowed not to get caught up with show gardens this year.

This may, or may not, be successful.

I am listening to The Year of the Cat by Al Stewart. Quite why, I have no idea.

I gave a talk the other day to assorted nursery people on the loose subject of Social media. One of my points was that if you have a blog on your website then you must update it otherwise it looks as if you do not give a fig. “It is better to have no blog at all than one that seems neglected” I thundered. I then noticed that I had not updated mine since before Christmas so thought I had better do a bit of practising what I preach. In my defence I did write one on my first day back at my desk after Christmas about what total tosh the various New Year guides to garden trends were but then I forgot to post it and the moment has now safely passed.

This blog is over twelve years old now and I have witnessed the bell curve of blogs. When I started we were a small and tight knit band of bloggers: nobody knew we were there – if you remember social media did not really exist in 2006. Facebook was invented in 2004 but Twitter not until after the birth of this blog. People did not spend all train journeys on their telephones as the smart phone did not invade our lives until June 2007. It was a different, possibly more innocent, time. Then there was a surge of interest, blog posts regularly got fifty of sixty comments and more and more people jumped onto the moving train. From that peak blogging has rather faded away as our attention spans get shorter, video became easy and podcasts arrived. Too many things to distract so nobody really reads stuff any longer. I don’t know how many people read this blog as I have never been that interested in statistics, I have nothing to sell and it is mostly a way for me to fritter away time that should be spent more commercially.

Anyway, this particular post is to draw your attention to the RHS Orchid Show and Plantfair which begins on Thursday evening in the Horticultural Halls, Vincent Square: it looked empty yesterday but I am assured that it will fill up with nurseries and gin and stuff. It runs until Saturday evening and is, as the name suggests, stuffed to the gunwales with Orchids of every sort, shape and parentage. In addition there is a slightly less exotic corner where the RHS asked me to do a rehash of the garden I made at Chelsea Flower Show last year. Some of you may remember the garden, it was on the subject of sound and was one of the Radio2 Feelgood Gardens.

Rather than redo the same thing I decided to do a little twist so we are making a leaf strewn woodland floor which will shiver as if the leaves were being kissed by a gentle breeze or disturbed by a restless Dryad stirring just beneath the surface. It is quite odd to build a garden on a table in a hall – although there are many advantages, not least that we are safely tucked away out of the rain.

The leaf moving is under the care of the always smiling Pär, Seb and Rossana who leap around in that annoyingly energetic way young people do tweaking sound waves, tapping on laptops and scooting under the table with screwdrivers and wires as if they were grease monkeys under Cadillacs.

I suggest that you come and see us and the orchids. There will be talks – one by me probably, food, shelter from the weather and, I believe, gin. Entrance costs a fiver for all – this has caused certain RHS members to grumble but it costs quite a lot to put these shows on, money that should be better spent on more useful charitable interests. To ask five pounds is not exactly unreasonable. It is the same as have just paid for a cup of coffee and a pain au raisin in Bicester Village railway station.

I am listening to Glen Miller’s “Falling Leaves” which seemed appropriate. The small picture is of some mud – in which the outside world is covered.

Went to London to speak at the RHS Shows Launch.

This is a press junket in order to announce the highlights of all the flower shows from Cardiff in April to Tatton Park in July (not forgetting the monthly shows in London). I was speaking, briefly, about the Malvern Spring Show which is a particular favourite of mine.

Others talked about their gardens at the various shows, nurseries explained their new varieties etc,etc. The whole thing lasted over two hours which was a little on the long side – my buttocks were thoroughly anaesthetised by then.

Highlights to look forward to (or not) include: my energetic friend Chris Beardshaw is doing gardens at Malvern (rural crafts), Chelsea (homage to Hidcote Manor) and Hampton Court (education and green spaces for children). He is also moving house and his girlfriend is having their second child. Lunatic man – as I have often told him but he is incapable of sitting down (I think he sleeps with his eyes open while suspended from a coat hanger). He showed 117 slides.

An American lady called Lesley doing a Chinese garden at Chelsea.

Jinny Blom and Laurent Perrier doing something that could be rather lovely. I didn’t like her very white garden last year very much.

Claire Whitehouse is designing the Centrepoint garden at Hampton Court.

There was also a presentation by Marshalls (the paving stone people) who are sponsoring Chelsea for the next three years. At the Garden Writers Guild thing in November (see archive) I expressed a light hearted concern that it was a bit odd having Marshalls when the RHS were campaigning so hard to protect front gardens (for sound environmental reasons) from being paved over while seeking lots of money from the company most likely to benefit from that very paving.Anyway that caused a very minor furore – which was quite exciting for about 20 minutes. Their presentation went some way to allaying suspicions – they are sound on ethics having refused to import Indian sandstone from quarries where child labour is used. (Although the cynical would wonder where those children have gone – the next quarry down the road, probably – and what Marshalls are doing to help make up the shortfall in their families’ incomes).

There was a lot of stuff about Sustainability. A good buzz word. A bench made from sustainable sources uses wood from trees that are are replaced by newly planted ones – therefore creating a sustainable chain of supply.What, exactly is a sustainable paving stone, do you think ? I’m sure that I will bump into someone from Marshalls somewhere and they will tell me. In the meantime I have just specified that only Marshalls Indian Stone should be used on two jobs of mine so I am trying to do my bit to support their ethics.

I am listening to Red Beans by Professor Longhair and the picture is of a lonely January rosebud.