That manicure is not going to happen now. The days are longer, the temperature a few degrees warmer and the sun, comfortably clearing the rooftops by mid-morning, is now bathing both my little north-facing garden and the work allotment for a good portion of the day. My hands are in and out of the soil as much as possible: in the morning, in between sips of coffee - a little tweak here and there; at lunchtime in between meetings, pushing beetroot seeds and beans into the raised beds; in the evening, before I've even put my key in the front door, I'm pinching out spent blooms from my windowbox, and then I can't help but tuck a few new seeds into a pot before dinner. So a manicure would be a poor investment.
This week in the garden my husband has made progress recycling our old slate bathroom floor into hard landscaping; the attic bathroom has been converted into my spring greenhouse (no more guests for a while); I have been rediscovering plants that I'd either forgotten or thought would never survive the winter; been reminded which tulip bulbs I planted as they come into flower (Aladdin's Record); and moved oversized shrubs to give me more growing space. This last is long overdue and I feel so much better for opening up the congested borders. Although the dog thinks it's an invitation to rampage through my plants, so I must fill the gaps soon: I will add scent, taste, colour and texture - new plants will have to earn their keep.
Writer, gardener and lover of gardens, plants and all green spaces, especially in cities where grass really does seem all the greener when it has concrete as a companion. I have a small back garden, shared with my husband and dog. A bigger space is a long way off, so for now I'm happy gardening in the neighbourhood and at work, whenever I can and discovering new greenery around town. This blog is about how I get my garden fix in London.