Garden Envy

When my son was about 5, he asked father Christmas for a bigger garden with a tree in it.  Despite the obvious problems of getting this particular present down the chimney, he kept the faith. He told everyone that  Father Christmas was going to bring him a big garden with a tree in it.  Everytime I have my Christmas Highlights my hairdresser reminds me of his folly.  At the time he wanted a dog and he thought that a big garden and a tree were essential for dog owners.  As he has grown up, his desire for a bigger garden and a tree has remained (even though we now have a dog) and he has also added a hedge arch and a Summer House to his wish list.

Today, we went to Danbury and Little Baddow open gardens.  I love open gardens.  It's a great chance to have a snoop around, whilst convincing yourself it's all for charity.  Looking around gardens in places you probably couldn't afford to live, even if you did win the lottery is probably a mistake.  It's like looking around the gardens of a National Trust property that were landscaped by Capability Brown and hoping to re-create something similar in your own postage stamp.

At first it was fine.  There were no amazing vegetable plots and gardens were just big.  Then we started to notice the trees.  Huge trees:  Oaks; Horse Chestnuts; Willows; whole fields of Apple trees.  Even the small gardens had trees.  Sometimes they weren't actually in the garden but just behind.  Then we started to see gardens that had woodland areas in them.

If that wasn't bad enough, every garden we saw from then on had a hedge arch.  Every mother is used to a grumpy teenager but this was beginning to get silly.  Every arch hedge seemed to be personally taunting him, every tree was shouting, "look I'm not in your garden!"

Then the garden's started getting quirky, with fantastic seating areas and I was beginning to understand his pain.  Every garden needs good seating areas and a bit of quirkiness.

Then there were wildlife areas.  I like wildlife areas, we have a sleeping hedgehog area, which drives the dog mad but I started to notice that in Danbury and Little Baddow even the wildlife can read.  There were many signs specifically for the animals.  Lots of signs for cats; "Cats not allowed." "Cats welcome" and even signs for Badgers.  I'm thinking of making a sign for my allotment that says, "Dear Muntjack Deer, I know you like sweetcorn but just remember that I like venison."

Happy chickens made me slouch my shoulders in unison with my son.  I'd like chickens.  I think I'd like chickens.  In truth I'm a bit funny about flappy birds and although I'd like the eggs I think the chickens might frighten me a bit.

Even the houses were beautiful.  There were thatched cottages and I remembered that when I was young I always said that I'd have to live in a house with a carpet on top.

I often make a scarecrow for my allotment on a rainy day when I have old clothes to throw out.  My scarecrows are scruffy but in Little Baddow the scarecrows   are Toffs, with bad habbits.

The last garden we looked at had everything.  It had trees, scarecrows, wildlife (even a dead shrew on the entrance table), brilliant signs (including one that said Chien Lunatique - which I need in my garden), a thatched roof, a hedge arch, scarecrows and a perfect vegetable patch.

"That's it we're going home!"  I stropped.  "Finally!" said my son but as we were leaving I heard them complaining that no blue tits had nested this year, "Yes my dear, it's the weather don't you know. It's a bad year for Bluetits, no one has them nesting."

YES! A SMALL VICTORY! - I HAVE TITS IN MY BOX!!!!!!