Parkland

Running in tandem with my life as a grubby gardener and one of only two living Grand Masters of the little known Burnham Cartwheeling Technique, I have to confess to a third more sinister existence.  Actually it isn’t sinister at all, I was just trying to get your attention.  For almost two years I have written a monthly gardening article for Devon Life magazine.  This diversion from mud and acrobatics was not in the master plan; ha! I just remembered there was no master plan.  Although I hit the ground sprinting and at times it has been overwhelming (comfort zone, what comfort zone?) it has been and hopefully will continue to be extremely rewarding.  I can only compare the experience to entering a horticultural sweetshop.  It has enabled me to meet many interesting people, all doing diverse and creative things across the county.  The subjects have ranged from country estates to private gardens, from coast to moor, producing cut flowers, fruit, seeds or just beauty. There were black jacks, flying saucers and winter mixture, a few salt liquorice and a smattering of acid drops, each and every one of them delicious.  So yesterday, in my guise as garden writer, I had another assignation.  This required me to sup delicious americanos whilst lounging on a sofa in a trendy art centre in Exeter all whilst interrogating a lovely young man about his life as a designer.   Admittedly this was no chore, as someone whose first school report said “she has a natural inquisitiveness” which my father eloquently and accurately translated as “she is nosy”, prying comes as second nature.  After I had sucked his brain dry we wandered through the local (splendidly planted) park for a photo shoot in the sunshine and a notebookless chat.  If I had to pin him down I would probably say “lemon sherbert”.  It certainly is a hard life!