February

After two very sleepless nights tending to a little one with a bug, who can't get comfy no matter how much squirming and crying he does, mothering is more than on my mind- it's in my aching arms, heavy eyelids, and cramped back.  With Mother's Day approaching fast in the UK (just one week away), I've been thinking about what that day and the act of mothering means. It is only possible to look at what mothering really is by acknowledging the diversity in mothering experiences. From looking after loved ones- not just children, to being mothered ourselves, mothering represents the qualities of care, compassion, and support and can be embodied by anyone who has played a maternal role in someone's life.

Over the next week, I will make and send gifts to those who have supported me in mothering Rex- my sister, my friends, my own mother. I will send notes to those in my life who have mothered and mentored, cared for, and tended to me in many ways and through all the different capacities of love. I'm grateful for those people, and I never tell them enough.

Historically, Paris and I have yet to make an offering for Mother's Day as it's too early for our flower season here. But seeing as we are obsessive gifters, love nice things, and are keen to honour those who have shaped and influenced our lives, we have put together some sets that are easy to gift and lovely to receive. We're excited to have a bunch of exquisitely scented, natural soaps made by Julie and her daughter Georgia just for us in Herefordshire up in the shop now.

We can attest that the soap lathers beautifully, smells heavenly, and perfectly moisturises our calloused gardeners' hands. There are three scents to choose from, Geranium and Lavender, Sweet Orange and Lavender and Three Flowers and Clay- we'd love to know your favourite. Paris is a fan of Geranium, so that one is an obvious win for her, and I like Rose, so with its citrussy, floral and rose undertones, it's the Three Flowers and Clay for me.

February starts in winter and ends with just a little spring. We’ve gone from snowdrops to primroses, the colour dial being turned incrementally by the day. The birds sing their loudest here at this time of year, and the morning is cracked open with the dawn chorus.

It was a month of weeding and mulching, fixing burst irrigation and clearing winter away to see the new shoots emerge. Camellias and Hellebores have made their way through the studio, and the first narcissus are showing their faces now.

The bulk of this month that always goes too quickly has been packing seed packets and avoiding the seemingly endless rain. We measure the seeds with tiny spoons and pack and pack and pack until we run out of seeds or packets or feel like there’s no way in the world that we will sell out of a variety!

We’ve been sowing sweet peas this month and will sow just a few more before we begin the sowing of our spring batch of hardy annuals next week. Our sowing will continue, the less hardy annuals waiting until at least the end of the month to be thought about, and we will soon be surrounded by little seedlings. It’s an exciting time.