
Beauty in decay: Plants that die nicely
When I first heard his prairie-ness Piet Oudolf say ‘I love plants that are dead’, I thought that the good man had sniffed one too many…
When I first heard his prairie-ness Piet Oudolf say ‘I love plants that are dead’, I thought that the good man had sniffed one too many…
I’m a sucker for learning from the pro’s. Tinkering, dabbling, bodging are just not in my armoury. Sad, but unfortunately very true. He probably never…
Pure luck. A ‘just to put my name on the waiting list‘ enquiry for a village allotment plot, resulted in my delightful custodianship of plot 10b.…
My very own Cousteau moment. Without the aqualung. Or the French passport. Or the sea for that matter. On account of my affection for garden birds,…
A confession is in order. To celebrate the momentous RHS Chelsea Flower Show Centenary, I attempted to collect 100 best show memories from garden designers,…
With infectious enthusiasm and gusto tantamount to Lord Flashheart, Mark Diacono has again put quill to parchment, and produced yet another brilliant oeuvre. The New…
Too small for little Red to lose her way, too narrow to hide Rapunzel in a tower, but big enough to be enchanting. Once a…
Tights are not just for elves. No siree. Come Christmas, the humble pair of tights, can be transformed into a rather magnificent garland. All tights…
The Oxonian has moved. Fortunately, well within the county boundaries to ensure the brand name is still very much relevant, but the address has changed.…
Not quite in the realms of Hannibal’s obsession for dubious meats, fava beans and chianti suppers, but every year my return from the RHS Chelsea…
No banoffee pie. No banana éclairs. No banana loaf. No banana ice cream. No, merci. With much fastidious struggling of my inner soul, I admit to…
The village of Geldrop, probably means precious little to most on our side of the channel. The odd Olympic enthusiast may vaguely remember it for…