Summer of Distraction

House sparrows, Chelsea Flower Show, and May madness

It has happened: that thing that occurs every year - May is a magic month of madness and June arrives in a blurr, demanding I stop and breathe. I get called out into the garden by the hawthorn blossom and the dew, then before I can turn around, Summer has donned her frock of rose petals and exquisite perfume.

In the past I have apologised (on my blog/social media) for the dip in posting frequency at this time, but I have been busy; this is the season of being busy and of happenings, and that’s ok. I have been planting tomatoes and trying to raise seedlings, juggling frantic work days with keeping our small household fed and clean (husband has picked up the slack, for which I will never be ungrateful). I have been making fresh bread, and cleaning out the chicken coop, and watching house sparrows pick grit from the cobbles by the garden door. And spending time with visiting overseas family, soaring above the Sussex coast on a helicopter flight, and taking the train to London for Chelsea Flower Show. Building a pond, not mowing the grass. Re-watching early90s episodes of ‘TimeTeam’, and eating platefuls of fried leftover mash potatoes, black pudding, and egg, on days when my hormone cycle demanded the calories. Adding flowers to salads.

May started with a bank holiday Monday and one of my favourite tasks: stacking wood. We have oil heating and hot water here at the cottage, and although the hot water is obviously essential, we try to eek out the fuel by turning down the thermostat and using the log burner throughout autumn and winter. Most jobs around the cottage and garden are shared out with my husband – we don’t have many things which we designate exclusively to one or other of us. Stacking the log store however, is something I try to reserve for myself alone. Husband doesn’t get bank holidays off work, so I was home alone that Monday morning when I stood facing the 3m³ pile of logs that had been tip-delivered onto our driveway the Friday before. I ensured all other tasks were done: chickens fed, washing on the line, made a cuppa in my favourite enamel mug, and set to work. I had a system; 12inch logs on the right, 8 inch to the back and left. Two rows deep, any logs with mould or fungi put to one side for the next firepit burn. The paper-sap smell of the timber, the rhythm of the movement and the satisfaction of the perfect fit… but best of all that slight ache in the muscles at the end of the day and the reassuring sight of a whole winter’s guaranteed warmth, stored and promised, and tangible.

The tempo picked up when my parents-in-law landed at Heathrow from Canada. Despite the high prairie of Alberta certainly now being their home since emigration 17 years ago, the joys of England in May shall always be a lure to those who remember it.

My mother-in-law is a keen pilot. Flying is her passion. So, when the opportunity came up to book a helicopter flying experience, it wasn’t to be missed. We happily agreed to help out as taxi for the morning, heading to Shoreham Airport (recently renamed ‘Brighton City Airport’, but it will always be Shoreham to me.) just an hour or so away.

I never thought for a moment that I’d see the Sussex coast from that angle. I certainly never thought I’d be sitting in the back of a 4 seater helicopter (a Robinsons R44) with my mother-in-law, watching whilst my husband had the opportunity to take the controls and fly us over the sea, and countryside, surrounding Worthing and Littlehampton. During my MIL’s flight, husband and I sat in the back seats alternating between gazing down at the toy town of Brighton beside the blue green sea, and grinning madly at each other. It was an unforgettable experience.

I thought, after spending the final few day’s of the family’s visit to the UK doing days out with them, I was going back to work for a rest…

But this was May, the busiest month in the gardening calendar. Chillies to pot, tropical displays to manage, cacti in full bloom, wall-trained stone fruit growing by the day. Loofa plants and fuchsias, coleus and begonias, passionflower and peppers… the summer displays were taking off. (If you bump into a glasshouse gardener, in fact, any gardener, in May… maybe make them a cup of tea?!)

And then I volunteered to take a day out to support my employer’s trade stand at Chelsea Flower Show.

I am still planning to write a separate Substack post about ‘My First Chelsea Experience’, so for now I will simply include a gallery of just a few of my favourite moments and views from the day.

Those are all the ‘write home about’ moments of May, but the month was filled with small joys too. I found a no-kneed bread recipe which has allowed us to have a fresh loaf of bread most weekends. We built a pond in the garden which was visited by a dragonfly the very next day, and been a hit with the resident pair of goldfinches for drinking and bathing. I weeded out all the billions of forget-me-nots from the garden borders. And we finally had rain.

Usually, (hopefully), June is when I take a breath. It is my birthday month too, so I shall be celebrating another trip around the sun with family and friends. I'll be eating fresh bread with real salted butter, inhaling the heady scent of roses, and chasing those beautiful summer eves.

June is honeysuckle and shrub roses, picnics and bunting.
And the month when a very special flower has put in an unexpected appearance in my weedy eden of a garden.

Tell you more about that soon.