So that’s that then. The end. Ten years after starting work at The Priory – almost to the day – I’m leaving. I’ve spent about a fifth of my life here: a sobering realisation as I hurtle through time with no brakes.
May
If this summer has been too fiercely hot and dry for Sussex gardening, 2018 was a good final year nonetheless. After a proper, hard and snowy February there were none of the usual later frosts to which the garden is prone. With non-frozen flower buds the big, old wisteria had more bloom than ever before – though I’ve always thought it a shame that the racemes aren’t longer.
Also in May, the leaning-over-ready-to-fall laburnum was magnificent. Normally its flowering is rather half-hearted and pathetic. A bit sparse – because of those late frosts. But this year she did me proud. I’m not particularly fond of laburnums but I make an exception for this one. Long may she not fall over.
Overall, spring was brilliant for flowers: the honeysuckle on the south side of the house looked and smelt great … though actually it always does and is a perennial joy.
June
Groups of peonies planted up against the house were big, old plants back in 2008 and still flower lustily. The flowers don’t last long, are way too blousy for me and so ridiculously heavy that they need a supporting steel hoop but I enjoy their arrival anyway.
Oddly, the Viburnum opulus ‘Roseum’ on the west lawn, if still looking good in May, wasn’t as smothered with bloom as it so often is.
April
I’m chuffed with the two apple trees on the north lawn. They were roughly hacked about in the past and responded, as apples will, with a forest of water sprouts (long, thin shoots) from their wounds.
Removing the sprouts and forming a frame of branches over the years has been bloody satisfying. I hope somebody, anybody, will continue to tend these two old dames.
I’ve planted dozens of trees in my time here. Here are two of them – Prunus ‘Kanzan’ flowering in April,
brightening the path to the greenhouses before the rock border stirs and buttercups flower.
April
I planted ten fruit trees on the meadow. This one is Pear ‘Concorde’ and someone needs to keep an eye on it and its companions too, please.
May
A grouping of three Cornus controversa ‘Variegata’ on the west lawn has suffered repeated deer attack this year. I had planned on removing the lower, damaged branches to lift the crown, smarten it up and allow for easier mowing, but those nibbled branches do hinder deer from rubbing away the trunk bark with their antlers – something they have already done to one.
May
Yellow flag irises have colonised the ditch between the two ponds and create a golden ribbon between mown lawn and meadow. I like wild interlopers, mostly.
April
And another wildflower, bluebell, is spreading further each year. In time they will be quite The Priory springtime feature – if they’re spared the strimmer in the years to come.
In the autumn of 2008, I planted hundreds and hundreds of bulbs – amongst them, one hundred Narcissi Conspicuus. A scribble in my notebook of the time has the ominous words, “some mouldy”. I imagine that “some mouldy” is why they never flowered. Each spring I eagerly, fruitlessly looked out for the flowers until, stripped of hope, I gradually forgot.
And then, one day in April this year, a tiny yellow splash caught my eye. I walked across thinking, “Surely not now. Not after all this time.” But there they were. Three hoop petticoat daffodils. Three! How can three tiny yellow flowers fill me with such amazement and joy? Being a silly old sod would be one reason. Nine years is a goodly wait for a flower or three from a hundred mouldy bulbs. If you are of an impatient disposition, you might not want to bother.
May
At the same time, during that first autumn, I planted a hundred Allium Aflatunense in the long borders. What a bargain they were. Reliable, long-lasting flower heads and a steady proliferation of offsets (new bulbs). I’ve dug up and replanted a multiplicity of free bulbs about The Priory and in other gardens too.
Definitely one for the cash-strapped, if patient, gardener. Buy a handful, plant them, enjoy the flowers, wait a couple of years, harvest some bulbs, repeat.
The rotten alder is central
Though there has been little (and often no) money for the garden, I did arrange for a final tree surgeon visit. A leaning, partly hollow alder near the house had concerned me for a couple of years. Last year, a zipper of bracket fungus ran up the trunk and this year there was a noticeable thinning of the canopy. Money or none, it had to be made safe.
Ivan the Tree Surgeon felled the tree without damaging the adjacent rose tunnel, which impressed me no end. After the deed, he told me that much of the trunk was sponge.
Though he’s retiring very soon, Ivan then scampered up into an oak like a young ‘un to cut out several dead branches. I’d worried that if these came down in their own time, they’d smash one of the greenhouses.
Forty-odd years ago as an apprentice, Ivan’s first ever job was at The Priory. Fitting then that one of his last should be here too.
February 28th 2018
In one post, a while ago, I wrote: “(The oaks) were the first thing I noticed and the last I shall say good-bye to.”
Time to say goodbye.
April this year
In another post about The Priory’s Tulip tree, I said that though I loved the Tulip tree, it wasn’t my favourite. I never did say which of the garden’s trees is my favourite, though you might have guessed.
The oak tree on the east lawn isn’t the oldest, it isn’t even the biggest here but my word, it’s the most beautiful, loveliest oak tree I’ve known.
X marks the spot
I’ve never thought of the term ‘tree-hugger’ as a pejorative and I happily hug my oak when the mood takes me.
And, whilst I’m at it, I’ll hug another one. I might even hug them all. Call me a tree-hugger, I shan’t care.
The BIG Ash with an added anxious gardener for scale
These massive trees were a big draw for me when applying to work in this secluded corner of Sussex. Looking after them, keeping them safe for the gardener working beneath, admiring them, occasionally hugging them, and planting new ones was a delight during my time here. In the future, they will still need occasional attention but mostly they’ll be just fine without my hugs.
Weigela
As will all of the old shrubs which flowered before, during and, I’m sure, after my time.
Clematis ‘Broughton Bride’
I’ve added so many plants to the garden, so many, and most of these will hopefully continue to thrive too. Or else not.
Young Mandarins – July
As will the wildlife, of course; whether or not I’m around to watch. Kingfisher will still dart across the ponds, deer will come and go as they please, rabbit will tear through the wire netting, buzzard and the new arrival, red kite, will circle high overhead and the midday hoot of the tawny owl will still startle. Or so I hope. If the mallards haven’t raised any ducklings in recent years, then mandarin ducks succeeded in 2018. There’s always room for new life at The Priory.
Sadly, there are no plans yet for a replacement gardener, though someone will take over the lawn-mowing. And gosh, but I’m very happy to hand over the mowers to younger hands. I’ve mowed enough.
I thought you might like to see this aerial photo of the house and grounds. It was taken fifteen or twenty years ago and though I’ve studied it countless times, I still pore over it to see how the garden has changed, and how it hasn’t. The west pond is clearly visible with the six large weeping willows not large at all. The Despondent, bless her, sits upon the water – probably bearing a happier name. By the Land-rover, one of the two original beech arches is still being trained and there is a glimpse of the old, long-gone greenhouse, garden top right. My oak is above and slightly to the right of the house. The straight path-to-nowhere – without the Verbena bonariensis beds – is very obvious. And there were many hot mowing days when I could have made good use of that paddling pool.
I seem to have something in my eye, so I’ll leave The Priory now, closing the gate behind me. I used to think that I would work here until the day I retire. But outlook shifts, plans change, opportunities arise and another part of this island tugs me westward. It is the right time for me to go.
Margaret the Farmer is one of my greatest discoveries of the past ten years, and when I visit her in the years to come, and after a cup of tea and a hearty gossip, we’ll walk down through the fields with her sprocker spaniels, and peer over or climb the fence into the garden.
I’ll let you know what we see.
oooOOOooo
Jim, the boy and I are leaving our Sussex home next week. We’ll be rootless for a while until we complete on our new house in the Cotswolds. We’re putting all of our stuff into storage and thanks to the kindness of family and friends, we shall be flitting between spare beds until our new home is ready. When we do eventually land and settle, I’ll post again. But I may be some time.
Thank you to everyone who has followed and shared my interest, my love for The Priory.
The Anxious Gardener 
Pingback: A Selection of Paths | The Anxious Gardener | Earth 365
I have come to your blog very late but when I looked through your past favourite posts cam upon this touching farewell to a much loved friend (albeit a garden).
Having moved 23 years ago, into a wonderful house full of character and features dating back hundreds of years, many of which had been covered up but not removed, I am sure that the future holds so much joy for you.
The ‘field’ at Franks Place has become my garden. It took many years before I could make much of an impression (we needed to save money to make the house watertight and more damp-proof first – the new rafters and slates for the roof only went on 5 years ago! No more leaky drips through some ceilings in heavy downpours with strong winds!)
Many changes have taken place in the garden since. I love it and since retiring spend most of my time in it when not making sculpture. Neither my wife nor I could ever think of leaving this dear old place; the thought of the inevitable time that comes to us all that will take us away from it fills me with sadness. The thought of anyone ripping the heart out of the place to ‘up-date it’ fills me with dread. The garden too could fall foul of a purchaser who sees the potential for ‘development’ whereas we have never ,and will never countenance the idea, even having been told we could do it and move to another lovely old house and have money to spare. People often make the mistake that a home is ‘just a house you currently reside in’. Nothing could be further from the truth and so i wish you every happiness in your home and your future garden.
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Thanks, Rob.
We have done up so many houses over the past 20 years – 6 I think, plus a flat and I can never pass any of them without taking a bit of a gander. I see trees and hedges I planted grown to maturity which is lovely and original wooden window frames which we sanded, filled and repainted ripped out and replaced with UPVC. So, some good, some bad.
We have no plans to move from our current house – and the thought of ‘doing up’ another house fills us with dread. But who knows what will happen? I hope you never have to leave your current home. If it’s of any solace a couple of my new clients are in their 90s and if they now need my help to maintain their gardens, they certainly have no plans on moving out to somewhere more ‘manageable.’
All the best
David
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Just read your blog again – more tears! I think it’s because you’ve written about your leaving so beautifully. And however sad, as you say, wildlife and nature will just carry on.
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Not sure whether I should thank you or apologise. But I’ll go with the former I think, Dave
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A beautiful, sad farewell with many a story, I suspect, hiding between those lines. Good luck in your new home.
Oh and thanks for the inspiration!
https://mjlstories.wordpress.com/2018/08/31/in-a-dream-i-strolled-barefoot-in-a-quiet-garden/
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My partner & I were very moved by your post, Miranda. I feel honoured. Thanks for brightening up a Sunday morning. Oh, and yes. A lot of hidden stories, D
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Pingback: In a dream I strolled barefoot in a quiet garden – MJL Stories
Wonderful farewell post. Lump in throat stuff. Good luck with the new home. The Cotswolds are wonderful and plenty of gardening good weather. A tree hugger needs to make no excuses – keep hugging. I will finally buy the mower you recommended, next spring and if ok, continue to throw the odd desperate plant query your way. Our oak is growing and doing well after-all. I think there comes a point in life when we all need a change however heart wrenching it is. It rejuvenates the soul. Even now in France, I still keep in touch with everyone back home – the blog is a godsend in that area too and looking forward to reading about your new adventure. Happy box unpacking when you settle. All the best, Judi
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Thanks Judi. Making a complete break and starting afresh is liberating. We are in our new house now and though living here in pretty squalid conditions is tough, it’s exciting too. I’ve barely looked at the garden yet but there’s no rush – and a huge wasp nest in the garden shed means the end of the garden is best avoided till the first frosts! Hope the mower recommendation works out!?! D
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I shall miss you terribly as will my sheep and cows. Who am I going to turn to the next time I have a heavily pregnant, cast ewe? Who will accompany her up to the farm, cuddling her smelly wet body to stop her jumping out of the tractor bucket? Who will help me douse a day-old calf with fly strike and covered in maggots? What a delightful picture I paint of the farm! Who will look after that lovely garden? You’re one in a million Dave and such an eloquent diarist. Please don’t lose touch. Margaret
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Fat chance you’ll be rid of me so easily. I shan’t lose touch. Helping you out at the farm occasionally and just enjoying being a part of it all has been such a highlight for me. If a certain someone has made the past few years less happy, you have more than made up for it. And for that I thank you ‘Margaret’. I’ll see you soon, Dxxx
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David, I have loved your uplifting pictures and writing – a unique and lovely perspective. Warmest wishes for your new ventures, Christina
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Thank you for that, Christina, very much. D
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“Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.”
Luna Lovegood
David, will you post a picture of the first thing you fall in love with at your new home or surrounding?
I’m really curious!
Smiling….Marcie
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I’ll try to remember, Marcie, though it might just be a pint of ice cold lager. D
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Good luck with finishing the new place and I look forward to the next chapter. All the best, Robin
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Thanks!
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😭😭😭 what can I say, you’ve been an enormous inspiration to me David and I’m sure many others, and I can’t thank you enough for that. The very best of wishes for the future – I can’t wait to find out what you’ll do next – take your time – but at the same time please don’t be gone for too long. We ALL love Yew! (couldn’t resist a reference)
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Hehe. Yew old blog post reader, yew. Thanks for this, Jack – what a lovely start to my day, my first of being homeless! All the very best, D
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You’ve been an inspiration. Loved reading of your adventures at the Priory and look forward with interest to your next tales. Peace and happiness. /Susie
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Thank you, Susie. I’m filling up again, D
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Argh I’ve just discovered your blog! A bit late. I wish you well on moving to the Cotswolds, so many exciting garden opportunities to explore there. Best wishes.
Chair
WFGA
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Where have you been all these years, Vanessa? I’ve missed you. Welcome at last and I’ll be back in a while. Dave
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Beautifully written. So hard to leave a garden. Wishing you luck in your new venture and welcome to the Cotswolds!
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Thanks, Chatty. A Cotswold welcome is my kind of welcome, D
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Thanks for the beauty of it all. All the best on your move. I look forward to getting a glimpse of your next season.
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Hi Shawn, gosh but you’ve been reading these pages for a long time. Thank you. Glimpses aplenty coming soon. Ish. Dave
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Thank you for sharing your gardening life at the Priory. Your posts have been a source of great pleasure and inspiration and have helped this rural Australian gardener, living half a world away and facing yet another drought, to keep going. May your new life and home be as special.
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I still find it quite amazing that my jottings are read all over the worlds, including South Africa, the US and rural Australia. Thanks for giving me a truly international jolt. It’s a great feeling. All the very best, Dave
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Good luck with the move to the Cotswolds, is the new house an artex free zone? Have only found you recently and throughly enjoyed your blog, I recently read the older posts about your present home and move there, very amusing, made me laugh.
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Ha! Nope, it is not. Grrrr. Not only are many of the ceilings stippled, they are also coated a deep mahogany – 44 years of nicotine from a 60-a-day smoker. Joy. One day quite soon, I’ll get round to writing the follow up to THAT old post. Honest. D
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Looking forward to welcoming you here in the west. I was wondering where you’d got to – of course plans never quite go to plan do they? A lovely farewell post – I hope The Priory gets another gardener it deserves as much as you were in your tenure.
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Thanks Michelle. As soon as we are ‘neighbours’ I’m sure we’ll meet up soon at some jolly or other. Hope so anyway, D
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Thank you so much for your blog – I’ve loved following your time at the Priory and seeing how it’s changed. All the best for the new chapter!
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Well, thanks so much for following, Rosie. It’s been a fantastic experience opening up The Priory to a huge virtual audience. It can get quite lonely down there otherwise. D
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Don’t know how you did it (left). Wish you happiness and fulfilment in your new life. Xxx
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Thanks Anne, and we certainly don’t intend ever, ever, ever moving again. At least not till the next time that is, Dx
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Nicely done, a graceful farewell.
Most of us pass through places, and either leave them unchanged, or a bit worse for wear.
A real satisfaction in leaving a place more beautiful than you found it. cheers, RPT
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A nice way of putting it, Robert. Cheers to you too, D
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Beautiful to the last! Best wishes, David. I hope you will keep blogging when you’ve got yourselves settled in the new digs. (I didn’t mean that to be a pun…)
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Thanks, Cynthia and thanks for following and reading my offerings for so long. D
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David….. Thank you for the last look at The Priory and your lovely description of the pictures you shared with us. I am going to miss your blog and do hope to be included in your future efforts. Best of luck in your new home in Cotswold. Happy and safe travels until you are once again settled in a proper place. I am only sorry I came to your blog so late…. but, rejoice in your move to new adventures.
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Hi Anne, thanks for that and indeed this last move (I never want to move house again!) is all about a fresh challenge and a fresh adventure. All the best, D
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All the best for your move to the Cotswolds and good luck for the future, I shall look forward to reading about your experiences.
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Thank you, Philip. D
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Lovely photos and commentary on your time at the Priory. Will you have much of a garden at your new house David? Good luck with the move, Graham
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Hi Graham, thanks. No not too big a garden and not too small – just the way I like them. I might even blog about it! D
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A sad day but I hope your new job will be as rewarding, I know you’ll do a great job. What a shame you have to move house too.
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Hi Christina, yep I hope my new job will be a good one but as I have no idea yet what I shall be doing – your guess is as good as mine. And the house move is a long-held ambition but only possible now because the boy is well, a man. D
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Well that was a beautiful last Priory blog, Dave. Oh this spring and summer with its luxurious gifts and heat-scares. Thank for for all the pleasure you’ve given me over the last few years. Now to a blog from some venture – I expect it will have something to do with plants, even if you need to give your limbs a rest from gardening. Good luck!
and love from Ursula
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Hi Ursie, thanks. I should think you’ll know all about our new life long before it appears here! And I hope to see you soon in our er, interesting new home. Dx
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Beautifully put David. Please continue to write, even if it’s about the vagaries of movers!!
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There’s a post about this particular move, Catherine. Boy, is there but I’m aware I still have to write up the follow up to our current house (cough, 2 and a bit years on). D
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What a fantastic end! Congratualtions on your time at The Priory, and all the hard work you put into it. I would say it paid off.
Thank you for sharing it all with us, and I wish you good luck in this new chapter. I look forward to learning where it takes you.
All the best David!
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You’re a good un, Kevin. Thanks for all the encouragement, D
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I imagine it must feel very strange now – leaving familiar routines and people. But there will be new things to see and do and there are decent folk all over this country – you just have to find them! The quality of what you do- whether it’s writing or gardening or whatever else – will sustain you. Best of luck!
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That’s a lovely comment, Peter. It has been a wrench saying goodbye to all our friends here after 23 years in Sussex. And leaving the South Downs and the sea is difficult. But yes, I shall soon be approaching complete strangers in Stroud asking them to be my new best friend. That’s gotta work. D
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Many thanks for a lovely reflection of happy days at the Priory. Looking forward hearing about your exciting times ahead. Good luck with the move.
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Thank you, Jennifer. It was difficult deciding what to put into this post as there is so much and so many memories. The poor old meadow and tropical border didn’t get a look in, D
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The Priory will miss the care and love and innovation you have showered upon it, but I’m sure your legacy will live on as you venture in to new things. I hope there will be trees to hug. Look forward to reading about your new Cotswold based adventures!
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Thanks, Janet and I blooming well hope there will be huggable trees. Though I’d best ask permission before running into people’s gardens to do the deed. D
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I think the first comment is the most eloquent. Whilst everyone has enjoyed reading about The Priory it is the gardener’s thoughts that have engaged us. I look forward to the sequel.
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Ta Ali, I must try to generate more thoughts – mostly my head is just full of images of kittens and puppy dogs. D
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The priory will miss you !! I hope you’ll be happy in the Cotswolds, good luck !
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Thanks, Gwennie and for following for so long, D
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So you are off, then. I know the bittersweet feeling, wishing you strength and joy to move through it.
We all look forward to reading about your next adventures, David. I, and probably many of your readers, don’t visit your blog for priory updates but for the knowledgeable, wise, and humorous person who shows us around it. Look forward to reading you again soon
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Gosh but you’re a very nice person, Chicu. You’re going straight on to my Christmas Card List. Thank you.
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Oh whoa you break you life into fifths? It isn’t gojng anywhere you can always visit. Life is a sand painting. Surrender isn’t mantra. The beauty is within you, blooming in every step! The best is yet to come!
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That’s the worst comment ever but I can’t edit it!
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Hi Jenny, nope, I don’t measure out my life. I was illustrating just what a big chunk of my life has been spent in this garden and hopefully illustrating what a wrench it is to leave it. Visiting the garden won’t be the same as spending 3 or 4 days a week there whatever the season, whatever the weather, But I get your point. And trust me, that ain’t the worst comment ever 🙂 Dave
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I will miss your tales from the gardens, and from your walks. Thank you for sharing. Good luck to you all for the move, and keep in touch with your news about the new life. XXX
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Hi Anne, thank you. I’ve had no time for a good walk this year but I’m itching to get out there, D
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You gave it all you had and made a fine go of it. Your work speaks for itself. I am sure you will be missed when all you did becomes blatantly obvious in your absence.
I wish you well on your next adventure!
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Thank you, Eliza-Constant-Reader.D
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Heartbreaking to leave that garden, your plants.
But I do look forward to seeing a new garden unfold, one fine day (with just the right amount of rain as needed)
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We’ve finally had rain, Diana and it’s been delicious. D
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Latest but not last posting please adds this reader, also with something in her eye. Bravo to you for making the move and best of luck to the three of you in your – eventual – Cotswolds home. Ceri
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Hi Ceri, I do like a bravo. Thanks very much, D
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Best of luck to you. I hope you remember us when you begin your next garden odyssey and blog from the first seed planted.
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Hi Lisa, thanks. The new house hasn’t been lived in for about a year. The lawn is up to my waist so seed planting might be a while! D
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GREAT post and AWESOME photos, by the way. I am sure The Priory will miss you and your care.
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Thanks BR, D
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So, now what are your plans?
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We’ve bought another house in need of work. Once we’re in (and given it a damn good clean) the first plan is a holiday! After that, I best find a job!
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I’ve enjoyed your blog but only discovered it recently. Good luck with your next chapter.
Hope to see you blogging again soon.
Sue
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Thank you, Sue. D
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I’m getting all teary, and I’ve only ever loved the Priory vicariously and from afar. Thank you for showing us that lovely place through your eyes, Dave. Hope the brief stretch of couch-surfing and plant-lugging goes quickly and (relatively) painlessly. xStacy
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Well Stacy, that’s how I felt at the end of Microcosmia! As you know, it’s all been very uncertain this past couple of years – couch-surfing and plant-lugging will be less worrisome. Dx
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I am relatively new to your blog, but I must say, this posting provided me with your long-time life at The Priory & made me a bit sad to be leaving. Well written & thank you!
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Hi Treah, well thanks for joining in at the end of the ride. D
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Thank you for sharing your life at the Priory with us. You take splendid pictures and write so well. We’ll all look forward to seeing what adventures you have in the future. I appreciate your making life more enjoyable as I endure the sweltering heat of South Carolina. Your lush green pictures help keep me cooler.
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I think we had a taste of SC heat here this summer, Ann. Truly sweltering – I really struggled to work through it and the garden struggled. Lush green is more what I’m used to! D
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One door closes and a new one opens – looking forward to hearing of your adventures in the Cotswolds
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As soon as I can breathe again, I’ll post. D
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David Thank you for your wonderful photos and writing. Good luck with the move and new place. ! hope all goes as smoothly as possible. Please don’t be away for too long! All the best
Dale
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Cheers, Dale.
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💐🌸💮🏵️ im sad to see you leave I love you guys… But I know know an admire the way you are taking your life in your direction as hard as that may prove… 🌷
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Hey, hey Finest Barber-man. I’m depending on you driving over to Stroud every three weeks to give me the short back and sides. Dx
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Feel a bit wet eyed reading your blog. Sniff. Hope you find somewhere wonderful to go to next. Best wishes from me,
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As soon as I’ve finished with this box of tissues, I’ll pass them over. Thanks for the good wishes, D
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All the best to you & yours are on your venture!
I have immensely enjoyed your posts and your photos.
Thank you.
Donna McKittrick, Victoria, B.C. Canada
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Glad you’ve enjoyed the blog, Donna. Very glad, D
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All the best for the future. An exciting time for you.
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Thanks, Jane. It’s all been rather too exciting recently. I’ll settle for the mundane quite soon. D
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Your work at the Priory have always been a source of inspiration…and envy as I struggle to garden on the Prairies of Western Canada. Thank you so much! I look forward to the next garden, long walks and photographswith anticipation. Carole Nelson, Saskatchewan, Canada
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Thanks, Carole. There’s a whole raft of new walks close to my new home. I’ll polish up my boots. And of course, a whole raft of gardens! D
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I’ve loved sharing your Priory experiences over the years and am sad that those days are now over. However, I am very much looking forward to sharing your next adventure, you have to let go of an old dream in order to have a new one. So be bold, be brave and come back and see us soon. xx
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Hi Paula, I’m trying to be bold – honest I am, and brave. And I am very excited about the future. Thank you for reading along. D
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Fare well. I hope to see you pop back up in the future. I’ve so enjoyed your posts and learned much. Thanks.
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Thanks – I’ll be popping up soon. D
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Thank you for these latest (not last) gorgeous photos. I have always enjoyed your blog. Don’t stop!
Best wishes to you in your next venture. Continue to live in beauty – and to write about it, beautifully.
Jeanne Mills
San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico
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I’m not intending to stop, Jeanne, if unsure what direction the blog will take. Our new house, if not everybody’s cup of tea aesthetically, is in a smashing location. I’ll share when I can. D
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David, good luck with the move, it’s always a bit of a nightmare. We will miss you, and look forward to your future posts. And photos.
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Thanks, Gill. Our last move was awful so we did think that, in comparison, this one would be a piece of cake. We got that wrong! This has been far worse. D
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Any thoughts! Overwhelming – it’s all so lovely, I look forward to your next posting.
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Thanks – and I love your blog’s title. D
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