With the use of social networks and finding myself amongst the Instagram generation by mistake, I thought I should come clean. Since I discovered that people buy gorgeous stuff from places like The Range, Next and Homesense, take them home, photograph a room set for Instagram and them take the products back to the stores, I have become very cynical about the whole caboodle.
I glanced through some of pictures of the garden here at Pinks Barn and realised that after this wet spring, working for the CSG and other ventures, I could hardly recognise it anymore. As a result, I am showing you exactly what is happening here in all its jungly, Instagram-unfriendly glory. Even worse than the guilt and rampaging ground elder is the fact that and I can do nothing about it for at least another fortnight.
Bill and I are off to Croatia any minute and I cannot ask my house elves to tackle the garden as well as the two-page list I am leaving behind. My neighbours are looking after the greenhouse for me and hopefully I will be able to catch up. I tell myself this is my equivalent to ‘no-mow-May’ and I am merely being wildlife-friendly by leaving all the undergrowth until the baby birds have fledged and the nests are empty.
