Postcard from Moseley Old Hall

Complicated and labour-intensive gardening does not appeal to me. Here's what does: weathered brick enclosing a walled orchard, a lavender-lined path busy with bees, tea, and cake. This path led to a cafe serving delicious scones. Almost perfect. The quite large drawback is the M54 - makes it easy to get there but provides a constant soundtrack of tyre on tarmac.

Moseley Old Hall makes a big deal out of the fact Charles II hid there for two nights. They obviously hadn't got the cafe sorted back then or I'm sure he'd have stayed longer.

The property used to be a farm so the orchard is in keeping and the stables and other buildings have been put into service with shop, exhibition space etc. But they've done some gardening in what would have been the farm yard. Complicated, labour-intensive knot gardening. Those seventeenth century folk had no idea how to relax.

Postcard from Martineau Gardens

I'm fond of late summer/early autumn for a number of reasons, including fruitfulness. When I visited Martineau Gardens in Edgbaston harvest was in progress in the veg plots while laden boughs in the orchard begged to be scrumped. Grapes dangled from their vine and enticed with the promise of a nice glass of red. Although, I have to admit to doubts about how Brum-grown wine would turn out.

Not that my local produce can be faulted in any other way. I've been fortunate to have been gifted some cucumbers from a friend's garden about a mile away and some tomatoes from the allotments next door - can't get more locally sourced than that. Well, I could; if I did any gardening of my own. As someone who has managed to kill a houseplant in the last week though, I think it safest to admire plants from afar. Until they're ready for my plate of course.

Postcard from the path

I've posted from Winterbourne before, but it's the kind of place which rewards a visit in all seasons. In fact, the cafe rewards a visit full stop.

You already know the only gardening I do is in the line of admiration rather than action, and that I'm fond of a cake, so what's new? Well, Winterbourne is owned by the University of Birmingham - a fine educational establishment which saw fit to confer a degree upon me - and both are in Edgbaston, which I've recently heard is the leafiest suburb in Western Europe.

Birmingham likes these kinds of claims. While other cities  make a lot of noise about how special they are, Birmingham comes up with fascinating facts such as 'more canals than Venice' (true, but hardly comparing like with like), or 'more parks than Paris'. And now the leaves. What I want to know is: who counted?

There are a lot of trees in Edgbaston and I'm thrilled my degree came with added leaf quotient. Another fact: last year a record number of tourists came to Birmingham. My top tip for visitors: take a stroll down this garden path and check out the cakes.

Postcard from the parterre

I'm no fan of gardening, that popular bank holiday activity. The hard work the National Trust are putting in to restore the formal parterre at Hanbury Hall is impressive though and I admired their results. With the weather as it was this past weekend, the lawns were more popular with picnickers such as me. I'd rather laze in the sun than worry about gardeners' backaches as they trimmed the topiary.

My favourite aspect of the parterre was the frilly edged petals and raspberry stripes of the tulips. And with a picnic comprised of leftovers from a Royal Wedding party, the food was fun too.

Those of us who live in flats are always appreciative of a pleasant outdoor space. The parterre was pretty, but finding a sheltered corner to spread out a rug, with a vista of mature trees, warm sunshine and a cool box packed with treats makes a bank holiday in Britain great.

Postcard from Winterbourne Gardens

Wild mushrooms can evoke unease. A sighting of a strange form blossoming forth when the spring and summer growing season is nearing its end, brings a slight frisson of fear that it may kill you. Unlikely; as I never pick them to eat, preferring to admire them in situ. Especially when they look so charmingly like discarded pencil shavings.

Winterbourne Gardens are lovely, the house delightful and the food in the tea rooms reassuringly edible.  Delicious, in fact. With such huge grounds to wander around, it's easy to justify eating both lunch and afternoon tea there. From a table on the terrace, the views of the walled garden, lawns, pergola and woodland are almost as tempting as the cakes.

My (very brief, internet based) research into the fungus pictured tells me it's a Coriolus Versicolor and is inedible. It is not, however, poisonous. Panic over. Time for tea.

Postcard from Eden

Cornwall's climate is benign compared to the rest of Britain.  The sheltering walls of a former quarry pit make the Eden Project's site even more plant-friendly.  The grounds showcase Cornish habitats as well as containing a lovely display of British flowers and vegetables intermixed with some foreign species coping just fine in the warmer temperatures.  Inside the domes though is where things get really interesting.

It may look like temptingly poppable bubble wrap from a distance, but the special covering retains heat and moisture while letting UV light through, meaning that Mediterranean-type and rainforest habitats can be recreated in south west England.   It's quite an experience to wander from Cornwall to Greece and on to Malaysia all in the course of one afternoon.

I loved seeing all the fruit and veg, from papaya and pineapples to nectarines and strawberries, and couldn't resist walking past beds filled with colourful salad ingredients into the cafe.  It would have been rude not to indulge in the Cornish cream tea after all.  I needed the energy to get me to another of Cornwall's special environments and an evening stroll along miles of golden sands.

Postcard from the Mill Garden

There are some brave splashes of spring colour in evidence in the chilly Midlands, but spring has not yet sprung with conviction.  In the absence of abundant floral displays, the backdrop of the Castle made for the most dramatic photo opportunity on a recent visit to the Mill Garden in Warwick.

I do like to be contrary though.  And Warwick Castle does just fine without me hyping it.  So this view may be the most dramatic, but wasn't my favourite.  That honour goes to the vista from the Mill Garden summerhouse looking across the mill pond and ruined bridge - best enjoyed whilst some welcome sunlight warms your face and the rush of water over the weir provides a soundtrack.  You have your back to the castle but the natural charms of the riverside make up for it.

Forget visiting the Castle dungeons - the garden boasts its very own set of stocks.  And I'm too old for playing at princesses.  Let's face it: it's more likely that most of us would have been working for the folk at the castle than living there.  So hanging out at the Mill Garden makes far more sense.  The thought that the tiny entrance fee goes to charity, rather than lining the castle coffers, just adds to the delight.

Postcard from outside

Even if politicians get slammed for talking about 'green shoots', it's nice to see the real thing coming through. Forget spin or economic analysis, the world is still turning and it's snowdrop season!

This weekend has also been the RSPB's Big Garden Birdwatch. Eighteen feathered guests visited us. All common species, but it's good to have the company. Good to have an excuse to gaze out the window too. Sitting in a dazed stupor can often be put down to the hard work of preparing to write (!), but this weekend it's all in the name of nature conservation.

I might brew a cuppa, find a comfy chair and take another look. The birds and the bulbs are getting busy.

Postcard from several degrees below

To say the UK is in the grip of a cold snap is to understate matters. What with the national obsession for talking about the weather, understatement is about as likely as High Street stores being saved from collapse by a sudden rush on bikinis. It's not as if we can afford to leave the country after all!

Out on the patio, frozen footprints tell a story – the only ones venturing out are cats and birds. Both are looking for food. The cat does not live here, but the evidence is clear. A trail of footprints takes a direct route from its own house, via a call at our back door to see if anyone's home, through to the neighbour on the other side. The return route is shorter. Having been unlucky in its attempts to gain access, it backtracks to try its luck with the houses to the other side.

The birds were luckier – there is seed on the bird feeder and no sign of them having encountered the cat!

Here's hoping the weather warms up soon…

Postcard from the first frost

Autumn's arrived and it feels more like winter. We had snow in April then snow in October. The summer never seemed to start.

This recently planted passion flower might have been hoping it would grow up to a life of sun-kissed bliss. Instead it's been put to work disguising a new fence panel and, within its first few weeks in the job, got chilled to the core. It's surviving though, clinging on and only shivering slightly.

Things have warmed up a little now with wet weather from the West instead of ice from the North. Sorry for the delay in posting this, guess I can't even pass the blame to the Post Office this time…