Back in 1993, Joe and I went abroad for our first and probably last time. We spent 17 days traveling back roads of England, Scotland, and Wales—in a rented car which Joe drove on the “wrong” side of the road.
We stayed at sheep farms and small town inns, and it was wonderful. Touring the British countryside had long been my desire, and we were not disappointed. Adventure and beauty greeted us around every bend, and we were not in the least bit tempted to venture into a city . . . .
. . . . except for on the last day. Scheduled to fly back to the U.S. from Gatwick, which is 30 miles or so out of London, we spent our last night at a farm near Dorking. We decided to ride the commuter train from that village into London, where we planned to transfer from Victoria Station to Paddington Station and (hopefully) buy a Paddington Bear to take home as a souvenir.
The train ride into London was fascinating, as the track ran through the back yards and alleys of old—I mean OLD!—neighborhoods. From the windows, we saw one consistent sight in even the tiniest city yards: carefully tended, interesting plots with funky “art” and a sweet little potting shed in the corner of most every garden.
How the Brits love their gardens! I was totally captivated by the concept of a LITTLE garden. At the time we lived on acreage, and I had very unruly gardens scattered hither and thither—plots which I couldn’t begin to manage. The idea of a tiny garden right outside one’s door got planted then and there in my head, where it has remained dormant until just 2 weeks ago.
Now in our small condo, I’m enjoying a tiny garden plot alongside our patio—with about as much space as the gardens we saw where the train ran along the back yards of London. Bleeding hearts, chives, tulips, and a couple of hardy rose bushes had already been planted here, and I am dividing and adding. By the end of May, I hope to have an English garden packed with perennials spilling over each other in quest of the morning sunlight, and then relaxing side by side in the afternoon shade.
On clear days, I toss colorful fabric and a Southwestern Indian rug over patio chairs—and my Teddies go out to bask in the sun. Sometimes Paddington Bear goes out too, although when this photo was taken he was “still sleeping” so I left him inside.
Incidently, there were no Paddington Bears at Paddington Station. I got my Paddington Bear at K-Mart, in Waukesha, Wisconsin. Go figure! 🙂
Margaret L. Been—All Rights Reserved
The Messy Palette . . . 