Today at Button Moon was a day of digging holes.  Big holes, little holes, medium sized holes.   Some awkward roots and slates, some easy passages.  Luckily I was armed with a golden spade, it made life much easier.  Everyone should have a golden spade, even if you haven’t got golden boots.  Into these holes I planted a pot bound camellia, three Heuchera ‘Marmalade’, a Viburnum tinus and Rhododendron ‘Horizon Monarch’.  Grow, grow, grow!

This osteospermum needs no encouragement.  Some might say it needs to calm down a little.  Not me.  I say “grow, grow, grow!”

The Future

Poppy Seed Head

Last week, on my first day back on Button Moon, we prepared the annual wildflower beds for the coming year.  It seemed a fitting way to mark the occasion of my return to the fold.   The border was weeded, the bones of last year’s blooms were pulling up and any remaining seed broadcast.   Looking forward to the future.  It is the only way to go.

This is the carcass of a particularly frou frou, bruise purple poppy that infiltrated the native mix.   It might not be true to the standard meadow form, but it was welcomed with open arms.  The contents of the pepper pot seed head will be scattered with the rest.  We do love a bit of frou frou.



Another hydrangea, and why not?  It has made the effort to flower, and so beautifully.  Today on Button Moon, glowing in the low and most welcome sunlight, it was hard to believe that it wasn’t blooming just for our delectation.  Of course it doesn’t care a fig what we think.


After very enjoyable, but rather hectic, weekend it was a treat to spend the day on Button Moon.  Even better I was joined by my friend Pickle.   First we surveyed the garden.  I was looking for progression and regression in order to make an accurate assessment of horticultural jobs and their relative urgency.  Pickle was compling an inventory of sticks, balls and miscellaneous toys including Pink Piggie.  Later I picked pears and apples, collected seed, weeded re-emerging ground elder and dead-headed herbaceous plants. Pickle rolled in badger poo.   So pleased we didn’t get our jobs mixed up.

Bright Side


There are some advantages to persistent mizzle, even when you are out in it all day, stewing like an old turnip in head to toe waterproofs, the only ventilation provided by a leaking boot.  They are as follows:

  1. Good company, both human and canine, although a degree of encouragement was dispensed from the dry side of a window (yes Pickle I am talking about you, fair weather friend).
  2. Excused the chore of lugging watering cans up and down steps (lucky as a strategic tennis ball was positioned at the very top) (anyone else think this is a bit suspect?) (and what was that piece of paper I was asked to sign the other day?)
  3. Rapid weight loss, although unfortunately only temporary, it went straight back on when I partook of my early evening quart of Merrydown and black.
  4. Photogenic raindrops on refreshed flowers.


coreopsisThe annual wildflower mix on Button Moon is still going strong, with tickseed and late marigolds  beginning to take over from the linum and nigella.   This is great news not only for us but for the host of pollinators who are enjoying these riches.  Today I pursued, in the nicest non stalker like way, a tiny blue butterfly.  She landed, briefly, on Eschschlotzia californica ‘Red Chief’ which is lolling about on the adjacent bed.  With a zoom and a lucky shot I captured her, before she flitted off again, blissfully unaware of the huntress.

Eschsholtzia californica 'Red Chief'

Weeds and Wildflowers


One of my first tasks on Button Moon was to pick out the weeds from a sowing of wildflowers.  I was stumped.  Wildflowers.  Weeds.  Aren’t they the same thing?  I was worried that my dumbfounded look was not impressing my new employers.  Pickle the Jack Russell looked disappointed at my reticence.  The silence was awkward.

Inaction was not an option.  I did my best. We decided that the perennials were a disaster, mostly nasturtium and dandelion.  The annuals more promising.  Some were obvious, I shimmied around others.

This linum survived, as did many others.  All beauties, none of them weeds, as few of us are in our mothers’ eyes.