Last summer I noticed that the formal borders around the garden seemed oddly lacking in colour during June and July. Why was this?

Well, most of the formal borders face east, and were shaded by overgrown shrubs and perennials which hadn't been divided in many years. The south-facing border is unfortunately super-dry and in parts quite shady, thanks to the huge eucalyptus tree that sits in the middle of it. 

So - what to do? 

There was nothing I could do about the drying effects of the eucalyptus, so I edged the front of that border with drought-tolerant plants. 

We pruned back the shrubs to let in a bit more light , and I lifted and divided as many of the perennials as I could. I planted some Hydrangea aborescens 'Annabelle' along the east-facing borders, and these are now popping out in large white balls against the green background. Interestingly, the day lilies have flowered much better this summer, and with a much stronger peach colour, after I divided and replanted them last autumn.

Then I planted a lot of bulbs - tulips for spring, and alliums for summer - as well as plenty of penstemons, mainly the 'Garnet' cultivar, which is pretty hardy. I also grew from seed and planted on some purple and blue-coloured annuals like Delphinium grandiflora 'Gentian Blue,' Agastache 'Black Adder,' and Cosmos, as well as some Verbena bonariensis and a few green-globe Artichokes.

Did it work? Well, this summer has certainly been an explosion of colour. Now, if we can only tackle that eucalyptus... 

Mr. P questions my sanity. Somehow or another, despite me planning to tackle the pond in a few years time, I have begun tackling the pond... now. No idea how that happened! 

I am being more sensible than the first winter we lived here, when I hand dug and cleared nettles from several large chunks of land, and knackered my back repeatedly. This time, I've had some help. Tom valiantly removed rushes from the pond and dug out the remains of the diseased bamboo. Jan, too, helped removed the ground elder, while I've tackled the bind weed. But it's a big project, nonetheless, especially without using contractors or chemicals. So I'm tackling it bit by bit.

How then?
Step 1: Clear overhanging shrubs and trees and mow nettles and acanthus so that we can actually access the pond! Getting there.

Step 2: Carry out repeated "weed removal" exercises, over the growing season. One round down, but since these are all repulsive perennial weeds, I'll be at it again later this summer, and autumn, and next year...

Step 3: Clear pond of built-up muck and decayed rushes. Done for this year.

Step 4: Replant banks. Work in progress!

Step 5: Monitor, weed, replant, and weed... repeating often, over the next few years. 

Nothing like a challenge! 

Kitchen Garden Kicks Off
This year's crops are in full swing in the new Kitchen Garden. Even the sweet peas are flowering, thanks to May's warm weather. 

Rocket rules... 
I began to harvest lettuce and rocket from mid March. Good crop but a mixed bag in terms of flavour. As ever, the rocket was great - hot, peppery, fierce, fantastic when compared to shop-bought. But lettuce was another matter. 


... but lettuce does not...
I don't think I'd sow "winter salad" mixes again - they contain too many brassicas for my liking. Nor would I sow Romaine lettuce "Bionda Lentissima a Montaire" again - it was too bitter for my taste. "All year round butterhead" lettuce cropped well from seed, and was tender, but pretty bland. Once I've cleared the ground of these crops, I'll sow red lettuces and chicory instead, and hope for better results. 

... so eat chard instead.
Chard has been a real success, though. I've grown several types, both Swiss Chard "Lucullus" and "Verde a Costa Bianca," and I'm already harvesting  young chard leaves. They're delicious braised in salty butter. These I would definitely grow again and again. 

Autumn sown broad beans 
I've been harvesting autumn-sown broad beans Aquadulce Claudia since mid May. This was the "final" year I was going to grow broad beans: I was so fed up with them being devoured by aphids. For the first time I tried the autumn sowing approach. From now on I'll always grow broad beans this way. 

(Sow them into individual pots under cover in the autumn; transplant late winter/early spring into the soil; chop off new growth in early May, once they've flowered and begun fruiting, to avoid attracting aphids; keep weed free throughout.)

Agretti
Now I'm harvesting Agretti (Salsola soda). All of my veg, this was the one I was most excited about growing this year. I first ate it last summer, at Worton Organic Garden, and loved it. It looks like floppy samphire, but tastes less salty.

Huge anticipation, bit of a let-down
My experimental attempt to sow it under cover last autumn failed completely. This spring I tried to sow it under cover and then plant out, and also to plant out direct. Of the two approaches, only the direct sowing worked. My harvest is good, but the flavour is hugely disappointing - it needs jazzing up with lemon and olive oil, but is still akin to crunchy grass.  Let's just say that Mr. P will not partake, and I'm not sure I'll bother growing it again. 

Next on the radar - the first strawberries (Frigaria ) - for which my mouth is already watering. Fingers crossed I manage to eat them before the pigeons, rabbits, chickens and slugs find them.

In the meantime, the sweet peas are coming on nicely, and the Oca, Yacon, Salsify, and Cardoons are in the ground. I've planted several squash on a heaving compost pile. Now I just need to find  some space for all of those Globe Artichokes... 

I love salad, rocket and watercress especially; but it's expensive to buy, and has usually been highly processed before purchase. Last season, though, my big success was rocket. I direct sowed it in succession, and we enjoyed lots of hot, firy rocket well into autumn.

This season I sowed winter lettuce, cress, and rocket under glass, in both seed trays and guttering, and then planted them out in March. They stayed in semi-stasis for a good few weeks, before suddenly bursting into growth in April. We've been eating all these leaves for 3-4 weeks now. 

But I rather over-estimated our capacity for salad consumption, and this past fortnight, I've certainly been feeling like I have to dutifully scoff large buckets of leaves at lunch and dinner. I've been giving it away to neighbours... but I finally accepted that enough was enough. The flea beetles have been beginning to make inroads, and, believe it or not, the rocket and the brassicas included in the winter lettuce mix have already begun bolting.

So I chopped down and thinned most of it, and am hoping for a second batch in a few weeks. Next time, though, I'll be a little less generous when I sprinkle the seed. After all, a girl cannot live on cress alone. 

In the Wild Garden in 2014

The Wild Garden suffered this past winter during heavy gales. Several months ago we lost both a beautiful rambling rose and a walnut tree, which collapsed over an old Viburnum (and hundreds of snowdrops). All of this needs to be cleared away. Meanwhile I'm researching flowering crab apples and cherry trees to replant in the area. 

All this has rather distracted me from the main task of clearing around the pond. Last year we cleared the self-seeded Salix which sat in the middle of the pond, and two large clumps of dead bamboo. This has allowed light into the pond and surrounding banks, and a few beauties have emerged - a little drift of purple Muscari armeniacumbrightening up one mossy bank. 

Clearing the Salix and bamboo has also made it easier to remove some of the other overgrowth around the pond. Brambles, euphorbia, ground elder, nettles, and self-seeded Syacmores are crowding the banks. We've begun to clear these so that we can move around without prickles - and replant with more interesting plants!

In the meantime, though, we have had some new visitors to the garden - wild ducks exploring the pond. Fingers crossed they may return again. 

For several years I had stored my vegetable and flower seeds in an old ice-cream box at the back of a cupboard. After all, the guidance on the back of seed packs is pretty vague. "Store in a cool, dry place." Is it any wonder that, like me, my fellow horticultural students took this to mean the garden shed, conservatory, airing cupboard, or under the kitchen sink? 

Why don't the seed companies write clear guidance? It doesn't have to be wordy. Here's my suggestion if they're really pushed for space: "Store in an air-tight container in the fridge." If they can stretch to an extra THREE words, then they could be really clear.  "Store in an air-tight container in the fridge, at a constant temperature."

Now, that's not hard, is it? After all, we've paid for this product, haven't we? Success is measured in germination rates as well as in the health, taste, and abundance of the plants we grow. So why don't the companies provide clear instructions on how to look after their products? 

To maintain dormancy and avoid using up reserves of energy, seeds need to be stored at a constant temperature below 5 degrees centigrade. They need to be kept dry, not moist, so they need to be stored in an air-tight container, like a glass jar or a close-fitting plastic container, with a silica gel pack added to absorb any moisture. 

They also need to be stored in the dark, so the seed envelope, and ideally the storage container, needs to exclude light. 

Kew, who run the Millenium Seed Bank Project, recommend glass jars over all other containers. Check out their advice for yourself.

You've probably seen those trendy enamelware boxes marketed for storing seed, selling at £20 plus. Forget them. They're not air-tight. In any case, you'd have to store that smart little metal box in your fridge, rather than displaying it proudly in your potting shed. 

Instead, buy a couple of glass jars with rubber-seal necks, or some decent lock-lid tupperware containers. Group your seeds however you choose - by season or by veg type, herb or flower - and store them in your fridge, at a constant temperature, excluding light. 

The online gardener
I often buy gardening items online. It's convenient and reliable, and although I often visit garden centres searching for plants and tools, I'm frequently disappointed by their narrow range of stock, leading me to turn online. Recently, though, I've had a few bad experiences shopping online that have changed my mind. 

Railway Sleepers
I bought 30 railway sleepers from a well-known online timber supplier, and paid in advance. I based my entire design for the Kitchen Garden around their advertised length of 2.6m. However, every sleeper that the company delivered was 2.5m, not 2.6m long. After much wrangling and chasing, they eventually exchanged some of them for sleepers that were... once again... 2.5m long. 

Fruit Trees
I also sourced some mulberries and apricot trees, which can be difficult to find, from what was meant to be a reputable specialist. When they arrived I was shocked to see how badly the trees had been packed. Many of the main stems were twisted and damaged. This particular nursery guarantees their plants "until the spring." However, I'll only see how the trees fare over the course of the summer and autumn, so the supposed "guarantee" is useless. My follow-up questions to them about how best to prune them were answered unintelligibly. Customer service is also not their strong-point.  

Buy local or ask for recommendations
All in all, a warning. If you have time to hunt around and buy locally then that's a good bet. If you can't find what you want and do need to buy online, then choose a company recommended by gardening pals. I'm happy to let you know the names of the companies that I'd recommend - as well as those I'd never buy from again.  

Although it's exceptionally wet at the moment, the temperature is not too cold to plant up next year's garden. If you are fortunate enough to have sandy or loamy soil you can plant now, while plants are dormant, and benefit from sales at garden centres or online nurseries. 

When we think about the garden, we often focus on spring colour and summer brilliance. I've come to appreciate, though, how important it is to plan for autumn and winter colour. These can be quiet months in the garden. So here are some of my favourite plants that add colour and interest during autumn in particular. 

Choisya ternata
Chief amongst them is Choisya ternata. This shrub is meant to favour full sun in a sheltered position. In Neats Home Garden it survives in fairly shaded spots, but is a little leggy as a result, so I've tried to revive it with some careful pruning. Choisya ternata flowers in late October, bearing small scented white blossoms, and can continue to do so for several more months.

Crocus kotschyanus
These bulbs are lovely and are a great choice for instant impact. I bought some of these from J Parkers Wholesale in late September, planted them in early October, and they flowered a few weeks later. The flowers are pale lilac and creamy white. I've planted mine at the front of a sunny border, but they also look lovely naturalised under trees.

Pyracantha and Cotoneaster
I used to turn up my nose at these shrubs. In London and other cities they're a common choice, mainly because they're tough, evergreen, and tolerate pollution. 

But recently I've come to value them for their colourful autumn and winter berries. They are perfect for a wildlife copse and for edging a boundary wall. They also mix well with other attractive evergreen shrubs like Ilex aquifolium and Taxus baccata. 

Local gardeners around us grow Pyracantha in espalier form in front of brick walls, and this image from Crocus shows how stunning they can look as a clipped hedge. So I've ditched my snobbery and embraced these enthusiastically - albeit with a thick pair of gloves!

I have been planting my second set of yew hedges around the Kitchen Garden. 

Yew, Taxus baccata, makes a lovely dark green dense hedge. It tolerates shade and sun, is tough once established, and bears bright red berries in autumn. Birds eat the non-toxic, gelatinous seed cover. Of course, yew does take time to grow, but since the years will pass no matter what I do, I'd rather plant a hedge I like. 

The Kitchen Garden already has a lovely old yew tree, shaped in a bush, which hides the potting shed and old greenhouses. It must have been planted thirty to forty years ago. The new yew hedges, which edge part of the Kitchen Garden, will introduce some evergreen colour and structure and will, in turn, hide the shed and compost bins. 

I've ordered my Taxus baccata, as well as most of my fruit trees, from Ashridge Nurseries. I like the them for several reasons. 
(1) You can call or email them and they give you helpful advice.
(2) You can pick and choose which week your plants are delivered in, which is helpful if you've got a lot on, and plan your planting time carefully. 
(3) Plants arrive well packed and cared for, and are guaranteed for one year.

And they really do guarantee them! Last winter, for example, I ordered and planted a lot of hedging and fruit trees from them. When one tree, a maiden plum, began to look unhappy, I emailed them some photos asking for advice. They identified the problem as probably being due to me failing to prune it during the summer, but still sent me a free replacement in this winter's order.

Top tip: if you have a dog, avoid using bonemeal as a base dressing! 

Dreaming of summer's harvest
I'm enjoying imagining the garden in summer: trellising laden with sweet peas, runner beans and pumpkins... beds brimming with rocket, beetroot and lettuce. But there are still plenty of practical things to do before the real fun starts. 

First, a bit more work
Next week Ashridge Trees will deliver my hedging and fruit trees and I'll be busy planting these around the kitchen garden. In a few weeks time, the beds will be filled with top soil and compost, then edged with old railway sleepers. After that I'll cover them with weed-suppressant membrane or black plastic to stop weed seeds germinating and to warm the soil for spring planting.  I've been nurturing my poor asparagus crowns, keeping them cool and moist in the pantry, but these will also need to go into the ground as soon as possible, along with the fruit bushes. 

Then onto the real fun 
After that, the real fun can begin - planning which seeds to sow next year. I'm consulting Thomas Etty's incredible catalogue of heritage veg for ideas... and planning a local seed swap so that I can gain from my neighbours' experience. More on that in the New Year. Until then, back to work!