A tough morning. It had been a restless sleep disturbed by raging storms and appropriately bizarre nightmares but I had no chance to be bleary eyed. Walking from the front door to my car the unremitting wind and accompanying vicious showers suggested strongly that I return to my bed. Tempting, but I pushed on. Crazy stallions were stampeding towards the shore and I worried about those who were out at sea and for those who might have to save those poor souls. Soon I was cajoling Max’s less-than-keen Dad into the garden (yes you’ve guessed it “Its just a shower!”). We struggled through the gales and rain like evil needles, whilst we dug up more of the dull fuchsias and ferns and non-performing azaleas. All this on a steep slope, muddy underfoot. To add insult to injury, gusts shoved us spitefully like a school bully, while trees groaned beside us mimicking our own misery.
After a soothing lunch of soup, bread, cheese and chat, I was refreshed and refuelled and ready to continue the fight. Then the kamikaze scaffolders arrived to take down the scaffolding and a car was in the way. So when MD said “The car has to be moved, shall we go to Marwood to see what they’ve got in the Plant Centre?” I was buckled into the car before minds could be changed. So I was back at Marwood again, twice in one week! We met the lovely Marwood gang, drank coffee in the inner sanctum, cuddled a lurcher puppy, bought bergenia, veronica, hellebores and cleyera and admired the greenhouse camellias. Some of these camellias will be exhibited this weekend at the Early Camellia Show at RHS Rosemoor, surely this virginal white, gold bossed “Coronation” is a contender? Now what’s that other saying? Oh yes “third time lucky”!