Chelsea Physic Garden and the Snowdrop Parade

Today I took a trip to the Chelsea Physic Garden, which is an old favourite of mine. I'm keen on using plants and natural remedies when I can, and so I find the history of this garden irresistible. It was founded way back in 1673 by the Society of Apothecaries so that their apprentices could learn how to cultivate and use medicinal plants. Back then it was surrounded by market gardens and orchards, taking advantage of the south facing aspect, the free-draining soil and the easy access via the river to the City of London.

They still have lots of useful medicinal plants, but this morning pride of place was being given to the Snowdrop Parade. Right now they have over 100 varieties of Galanthus (that's the la dee da botanical name for the snowdrop) blooming around the garden in drifts and clusters and pots. My very favourite of all has to be the Galanthus Grumpy, if only for sounding like it has an even worse case of Seasonal Affective Disorder than I do! Here it is, the Galanthus Grumpy, in the Snowdrop Theatre:

There's a lovely woodland walk along the embankment with snowdrops blossoming all around.

And this morning there were lots of other things in bloom as well: harbingers of better, brighter days to come. Check out old Sir Hans Sloane surrounded by a multitude of spring-time gorgeousness:

Want a close up of the great man's plinth?

Thought you might! Feast your eyes on all this multi-coloured loveliness: 

Now savour the intensity of blue in these dwarf irises: 

Lovely, eh?

And then there are the very pretty Hellebores. How I love the Hellebores at this time of the year!

And the humble catkin? Let's hear it for the lambs' tails!

And the flowering currant (I've given up on the la dee da botanical names - they just don't trip off my tongue):

And what do you know, before I came home the sun came out to make me really believe that spring might be just around the corner after all.

The Physic Garden will be open daily from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. for snowdrop viewing until 16th February.

Happy Monday Peeps!

Bonny x

All quiet on the Potomac, West London

Today the sun shone, and the sky was blue for just a little while. So Maxi and I dashed off to Gunnersbury Park, West London to make the best of it. It was dry, but even the snowdrops looked just a tad mud-spattered from all the rain. See what I mean:

Gunnersbury is one of my favourite places. It's big and majestic in its way, but with a faded splendour that hints at something amazing that used to be found here in its glory days.

Once upon a time this was where a branch of the de Rothschild family lived. Their magnificent old Palladian mansion stands over at the other side, near Pope's Lane.

It's all very grand up that end, but Maxi and I prefer the wilderness that is the Potomac Pond. That's right, you read correctly: we have our very own Potomac here in West London. Here it is:

Once upon a time our Potomac was a clay pit. It used to be called Cole's Hole, which you have to admit lacks a certain pizazz in the naming department. No one appears to know for certain why it came to be called the Potomac. There's a theory that it came to be named after a popular saying.  During the American Civil War, when there was a temporary cessation of hostilities, people in England would say "All quiet on the Potomac". And as our Potomac was always peaceful, it seemed as good a name as any.

Whatever the way of it, the clay pit became a boating pond. Someone introduced some carp, but no one ever remembered exactly how deep it was. There's a rumour that it's very, very deep and that down there in its murky depths lurks a giant carp: a monster of its kind... .

Once upon a time when Cole's Hole was still a clay pit, there was a kiln that used to stand on the edge of the abyss, because it was certainly a very deep clay pit. But a kiln was an ugly thing that didn't fit in well with the landscaping. And so it was given a make-over.

It became a folly, a wonderful, gothic folly, with a central staircase that led up to a glorious room with large glass windows that afforded the most splendid views across the Potomac and over the rolling parkland beyond.

You see it really was a great success. Jolly boating parties paused to take tea on its upper terrace. On rainy days ladies in crinolines sought sanctuary in the lovely room with the arched windows, and on lazy summer evenings chaps would sit out on top, smoke their tobacco, and put the world to rights. 

But now the tide has turned for the little tower. It sits alone and abandoned on the bank of the overgrown Potomac Pond. An air of neglect hangs over everything. No one ever goes there for tea any more. You're not allowed to go inside to admire the lovely views from the arched windows.  It's a bit of a tumble-down wreck if we tell the story straight, and unless we do something soon it's liable to be lost forever.  And that makes me sad. Even during a happy interlude when the clouds part and the sun shines down I feel sorry for the little tower. 

Bonny x

Knitted, heart-shaped lavender sachet

Today I'm making a lavender sachet as a gift for a friend who won't be feeling very happy this Valentine's Day. I won't talk about her private grief other than to say that I think she's being a real star, handling a very tricky situation with great dignity and lots of courage.

Anyway, what do you think? Any chance it might raise a smile?

 I'm loving all the pinky, flowery, girliness of it, and I'm not normally a very girly kind of girl.

If you would like to make one of your own, you can find the pattern here Skinny heart pattern on "Lulu loves" website. It's very clearly, and accurately written, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to you.

I filled mine in part with the suggested toy-filler, but in the very middle I placed a couple of sachets of dried lavender seeds, tied up in some kitchen muslin so that they don't come out. As a result my room is smelling like summer, and that is making me very happy whilst the wind whistles down the chimney and the rain batters against my windowpanes.

And then I embellished it with some knitted lavender stems for luck.

If you'd like to have a go at knitting your own lavender, here's what you need and here's how to go about it: 

Materials:

Small amounts of 4 ply wool in lavender and green colours. I used Sublime extra fine merino wool in 4 ply.
1 set of 2 mm needles. I used a 4-needle set that I have for making socks, and I found having a spare needle to do the double-back-and-make-petals bits quite handy.

 Pattern: 

Cast on 3 stitches

Row 1: knit (3 stitches on needle - all numbers in brackets shown below are the number of stitches you ought to have on your needle at the end of the row.)

Row 2: purl (3)

Row 3: knit (3)

Row 4: purl (3)

Row 5: knit into the front and back of each of the first two stitches, knit 1. (5)

Row 6: purl (5)

Row 7: *knit 1, cast on 5 stitches by rolling the wool in front of the needle to create two loops and drawing the first loop through the second one to create a stitch. Cast off the 5 stitches that have just been created by knitting back across the new five stitches and casting them off one by one*. I found it useful to use one of the other sock needles to knit back in the opposite direction and cast these stitches off. Repeat from * to * across the row, ending with knit 1. (5)

Row 8: purl (5)

Row 9: knit (5)

Row 10: purl (5)

Row 11: knit into the front and the back of each of the first 4 stitches. Knit 1. (9)

Row 12: purl (9)

Row 13: knit 1, cast on 5 as in row 7, and cast them off again. *Knit 2, cast on 5 as in row 7, and cast them off again*. Repeat from * to * across the row, ending with Knit 2. (9)

Row 14: purl (9)

Row 15: *slip 2, knit 1, cast off the first 2 slipped stitches by drawing over the first knit stitch*. Repeat from * to * across the row. (3)

Row 16: Change colour to green to knit the stem: purl (3)

Row 17: knit (3)

Repeat rows 16 and 17 until the stem is as long as you want it to be.

Cast off.

Sew in your ends, and sew up the back of the lavender head and stem.

Ta-dah: you've just made a lavender flower.

 Enjoy!

Bonny x

The Spring Knitting and Stitching Show

I don't know about you, but I love a good knitting and sewing show. I love getting to meet all those arty, creative people who share my passion for textiles and wool. I love seeing all those glorious fabrics and yarns, and dreaming about what I could sew/knit/crochet them into. I love a good day out with a couple of friends in tow, a spot of lunch thrown in, and the odd coffee to sip along the way as we take the weight of our feet for a well-earned rest after all that heavy browsing.

If that sounds like your sort of thing too, then you seriously need to check out the forthcoming Spring Knitting and Stitching Show at Olympia.

They promise to have over 200 companies exhibiting their wares along with lots of workshops in everything from quilting and dressmaking to crochet.

You can check it out here :-

The Spring Knitting and Stitching Show

Put the date in your diaries: 13th to 16th March at London Olympia, and maybe I'll see you there.

 Bonny x

The Metropolitan Drinking Fountain & Cattle Trough Association strike again ... on South Ealing Road ...

Do you remember the other day how I got very excited about a water fountain on Ealing Common?

Ealing Common Drinking Fountain

Well, as I was sitting in a traffic jam on the South Ealing Road yesterday, I saw another one. This time it  had been donated by the good folk of the Parish, and maintained thereafter by the Metropolitan Drinking Fountain & Cattle Trough Association. I'm not an expert, but I'd say it had been intended for the quadrupeds to use. What do you reckon?

I'd say it was pitched at the bovine/ equine end of the market, but, as we don't get many of them passing through these days, the Council have decided to use it as an impromptu flower pot. Indeed their wallflowers seem to be growing very nicely in it, thank you.

 I got out of my car for a better look, and was touched to read the inscription:

 "This cattle trough and the fountain opposite were erected by the Parishioners of Ealing in memory of Jane Margaret Walpole, eldest daughter of the Rt. Hon. Spencer Horatio Walpole MP. A simple life of piety and good works endeared her to the hearts of all."

 The drinking fountain, which is rather splendid, is just a few steps further down the road, built into the wall of St. Mary's churchyard.

I was intrigued by Jane Margaret, and went home to look for her on the internet.

It would appear that she died young, at the age of just 38 in 1874. She never married, and lived with her father here in Ealing. He was a bit of a mover shaker, having served three terms as Home Secretary, but she must have quietly lived her life in his shadow, helping out where she could and impressing her neighbours with her kindness.

 I go up and down this road almost every day I'm in London, and I've never taken any notice of either the fountain or the trough before, but I imagine if I'd been living here in the late nineteenth century with no clean water piped into my home, and a thirsty horse to get me into town I'd have been paying a lot more attention. I might even have felt grateful that Jane Margaret's memorial was something useful rather than another stone angel in the local cemetery.

 Anyway, enough whimsy.

Happy Monday!

Bonny x