21st of May 2013

Well I did it. I posted my first blog. It has been a strange morning. I feel slightly elated after writing down all that. Going over the past made me realise just how far I have come but also still how far I can and will go.I have to watch myself when i'm like this that I dont get too high, cos then their is the anti climax. Keep it real.  I've been up since 3am penning and posting the first episode. I went out and bought planted some seeds at about 5.30am. A few flowers this time as I have been concentrating on Veg. I had been in aldis and seen some at 37p a packet, I am convinced they cant be any good for that, but i'm going to give them some tlc and see if they grow. Just some cottage garden favourites, that I can dot into the flower beds as I make space later on. Cosmos sonata dwarf mixed, Godetia little frills mixed and Alyssum snow carpet because I love its honey scented fragrance on a hot summers day. If we ever get one. I am not buying many perennials this year as the garden, whilst quite charming, is knotted with both perennial and annual weeds I wont get cleared, so annuals to fill in the gaps is a cheap way of prettying up and it wont matter about the weeds getting entangled as they will all be dug up and thrown away at  the end of the year.

I decided to start the garden renovations on the vegetable plot first as it will give me good organic crops and save me some money, an essential as I am surviving on benefit at the moment.  Atos have decided I am fit to go back to work wether I feel ready or not so I am keeping my eyes open for any suitable job that might come my way, it may well pan out for the best but its still scary. Still i'm up for it.  I am feeling optomistic today.

Last bank holiday was such beautiful weather I was out in the garden nearly the whole three days. I prepared the ground that I had dug out old raspberry canes from and went to the garden centre in Llanfoist that a friend had just introduced me to. They did a really good selection of the usual and a few more difficult to find vegetable seedlings in strips, which would be plenty for my requirements. If I was still growing for my family it would have probably worked out much cheaper to grow them from seed.  But i'm not and this was perfect. I bought Runner bean plants, some hispi cabbages that grow quite small, some purple sprouting broccoli, Cavello de nero kale, some Russian black kale (red in colour) some ruby chard,  and red oak leaf lettuce, Suzan lettuce and lollo rosso and lollo bionda (i'll check that later for accuracy) a couple of things I cant remember right now, thats age for you. I also bought two tomato plants to grow on, one of which was called Vanessa, so a must have purchase.

I was so excited when I got home I started straight away planting everything in the garden. No straight rows for me! The beds are an irregular curved shape so I decided to go with the flow. The first thing I did was to put up the canes  for the runner beans. I decided to put up a wigwam as the bed is semi circular and it would follow the contour partly. Having put in the runner beans I planted the lollo lettuces inbetween the canes and a few in the centre as they will be ready to harvest hopefully before the beans grow up and block out the light. Then I planted a hispi cabbage at the bottom of each cane. You may think I am cramming it all in and you are right. But I had prepared the soil well and enhanced its nutrient status with some good old blood fish and bone and also the cabbages can feed from the roots of the runner beans as they grow nitrogen fixing nodules on them and cabbages are heavy nitrogen feeders.
 I then proceeded to put in the Russian kale in a little semi circular row to embrace the canes. The sprouting broccoli was the next to go in I planted that in a block of six plants, not too close together as they are greedy little buggers and need lots of nutrient. The cavelo de niro was planted equidistantly between. I then made little groups of the ruby chard and interplanted them with lettuce Suzan.

There is another slender curved bed that I had cleared of strawberry plants, leaving only the plants around the edge as I'm not overly fond of strawberries. I planted that up in patterns too with the remaining plants. Satisfied I had done a good days work I watered then all in, a huge chore as I have to borrow my neighbours tap and do it with watering cans that seem heavier and heavier as I carried them up and down the terraced steps. My back, which is weak, was compalining and I ached like mad unused to the physical work as I am, but as I came back to the house, I had such a lovely feeling of contentment it was good compensation.

The next day I decided to clear out the raspberry canes from the other small plot on the other side, they were yellow fruiting raspberries, it seemed such a shame to get rid of all this good fruiting stock and I had had fabulous fruit crops the year before, but leafy crops are what I use most of and I needed the space for those and other crops, so reluctantly I set about digging out  the congested canes. with my bad back I can only dig in short spurts do it took me the rest of the day to dig out a satisfactory area, with lots of sitting in the sun and cups of tea being consumed while I did it. When I stopped i was shattered but I was so satisfied and I realised I was so happy, happier than I had felt for a long time and satisfied too. As I suffer with depression it was a feeling I am unused to and that made me happeir still lol.

Bank holiday monday found me back out in the garden yet again! This has been unheard of for a long time. That day I went back to the garden centre and bought some propagating trays. I had already purchased some seeds and my sister had given me some packets of salad seedling when she had visited last Autumn with my mother. She has been trying to entice me back into gardening for several years, bless her, and I think she thought I would get excited by all the seeds she had bought with her. But I had just chosen a multi pack with salad vegetables from the huge selection she ahd bought up.

I planted seeds of Rocket, little gem lettuces, spring onions, tomatoes, outdoor cuecumbers, curly kale, Rainbow chard, and red and yellow oakleaf lettuce. which have all now sprouted and I spent yesterday pricking them out into pots or individual cells.

After the glorious joy and sunshine of the bank holiday the rains came and we were under a downpour for several days. I was disappointed not to get back out into the garden but happy because I knew it would water in the plants good and deep. To be honest I was also aching like mad as I was so unused to the physical labour so glad of the rest. I had just started at weight watchers the week before and I lost four and a half pounds that first week rather than the usual one I lose with great effort!  My weight is another thing I fight with weight gain bought on by depression. I'm giving it my best shot at the moment and trying to give up smoking. I am quite hard on myself but it seems to be all or nothing.  At least I can take or leave drink!

In this weather the hedges have been growing like mad and I thought if I buy myself the tools to do it myself, I will always be able to have a little go at it and keep them under control if I do little and often after the first really hard back breaking work.  So I bought an electric hedge trimmer, a strimmer and a couple of jojo cables to enable me to do the work. They have been sat unused for two weeks or so.


This Saturday an old friend of mine, Sabrina,  came up to visit from London.  I also had the plumber in the house to fit me a new bath as my old one cracked. I had probably not seen Sabrina for about 20 years. She had found me on facebook about  three weeks earlier and excitedly arranged to come up and see me. I was delighted and had looked forward to her coming with glee. There is something about my friends who have known me for years that revitalises me, I see myself through their eyes for a while, not the sad jaded person that i had come to despise, but vital and capable.    At least that is how they make me feel and Sabrina was no exception. Presenting me with a good strong columbian coffee in case I had turned into a herbal tea drinker, we made a pot and sat down to dissemble the past. I did not realise that she had not know that Vinda and I were split up and that i was living on my own, so that was briefly gone over. She said to me, I cant believe what you put up with, the Vanessa I knew would never have put up with that. We did not spend too long on all that, there were far too many interesting stories to share. I had not known she had been working as a stand up comedian doing the rounds and also built herself a considerable property portfolio, all inspiring stuff. We had a great evening with much laughter (whats that alien sound coming out of my mouth) and I woke happily at six the next day and went out into the garden with a cuppa. I was going to the usual sunday car boot and Sabrina came there with me before scooting of to Gloucester to meet up with another friend. I was reluctant to say goodbye but got into the buzz of the car boot, buying some more tomato plants of different varieties and scooping a pump action screwdriver I had been wanting for £1.50.

When I got home I missed Sabrina. I knew the only thing to do was to busy myself, so I unpacked the hedge trimmer and decided to trim back the hedge that was encroaching on a delightful small patio area I have. after a while i got the hang of the trimmer and made quite a neat job of it, scooping all the debris into the green bags and carrying it to the pick up point. I then swept and cleaned the patio area and started to shape up and trim some other shrubs. By this time I relaised that the trimmer i had bought was not man enough for the job. It kept cutting out about every two minutes and made the job a real chore. Such a shame as i had left behind a fabulous echo petrol hedge trimmer and strimmer when I left the family home. I shall attempt to take it back and complain about it and just have to spend a bit more cash on a decent one.

Yesterday found me back planting in the garden again, although it is a little early to plant them out I decided on the sacrifce method of planting, do or die, whhile there is still time for me to replace the plants with new ones. So I took out the two yellow courgettes and a green one that i had bought midweek on yet another trip to the garden centre and planted out my tomatoes and courgettes. I'm starting to run out of space already so will ahve to think about clearing more ground. I intend planting some in among the flowers too cottage garden style but have noticed the slugs have eaten the few I had already done that with, I shall have to wage war on them.  I also planted out all the pots of kitchen herbs that had been bought in the supermarket, from my kitchen window ledge. flatleaf and curly parsley, corriander, chives, and basil.  phew. Well thats kind of bought you right up to date with my garden and me. From now on my posts will probably not be as extensive. As I hope to keep them shorter but regular. I have had a few people post encouarging posts on Facebook regarding my efforts and if you ahve got this far I hope I have not bored you to tears.  If nothing else this has been really cathartic and got me buzzing. I'm thinking now I should go to bed and have a short nap as I really must take care of myself and Its 3pm now and ive not eaten breakfast. So i'm off to get some weight watchers style. I may just get the strimmer out and test it on the grass paths....Cheerio for now...

I intend using this blog as a diary of progress, mainly about my gardening exploits.  I have not kept a diary since my mother read mine when I was fourteen years old and I took them into the garden and burned them all in a fit of fury.  I‘m a very open person and feel like I should give a bit of background about myself to explain why I want to keep a blog diary and also why it might help or be of use to others.

I was raised in Brighton. There was nothing remarkable about my childhood, it was happy enough as although I had a father who was prone to violence I had a very optimistic and vibrant personality and managed to shrug off or ignore what was wrong and see the fun things in life. When I was twelve, in 1972 my elder sister Fays friend, Ione, took me with her to The Rainbow Theatre in London to see David Bowie, I was rather nonchalant about it, I liked his music, Ione played it to me frequently, but I did not really know much about him. We arrived at The Rainbow and took our seats, it was exciting, waiting eagerly for him to come on, but at this point so would any show have been.  David walked onstage and started to sing,, within minutes I put my hand on Iones arm and uttered the words, “oh my god Ione, I love him.” That was it, wham bam thank you maam, I was in love totally and with all the passion of an adolescent, it was love at first sight. The music, the show and him, I was gripped and could not take my eyes from of him.

David Bowie became my passion. I saved up for or nicked his records from boots and bought every copy of every paper that had a mention, no matter how small, of him. I found friends who also liked him and a whole new world opened up for me. It was with great excitement that that his Ziggy Stardust tour was announced and Ione and I got tickets to go and see him for the 23^rd of May 1973 at Brighton Dome. We excitedly counted down the days to the show.  We did not have much money coming in at home at that time, so mum used my school uniform grant to buy fabric and made me a beautiful halter neck waistcoat, made out 18 pieces of blue denim with flocked red stars on, and lovingly stitched the words Ziggy on in sequins, to wear for the event.  Eventually, it seemed like ages, the day arrived for the show.  Within minutes we were up and out of our, rather excellent seats, and ran down the front and were crammed by the ensuing crowd against the stage. We were slightly to left of centre stage, where Mick Ronson stood. The show was totally amazing, I can still see it  in my minds eye. At the end of the show, Mick Ronson looked directly at me and held out his hand to me, so I reached up and he took my hand, when finally we let go hands, I found he had left his guitar plectrum in my palm. It was a cherry red heart, with his signature on in gold.

Of course, Ione and I talked our way backstage but when we got there, the band had already departed. I’m sad to say we ravaged the dressing room for momentoes before we left clutching anything from Davids trousers and towel to Trevor Bolders navy blue platform boots.  I charmed an tour aide into telling me which hotel  they were staying at.  I was always on a tight curfew from my father, although he would let me out later with Ione looking after me (ha ha ) so we decided to go home and bunk off school the next day and go early to the hotel.

Next day, I waited for mum and dad to go to work and then carefully dressed, borrowing my mums black and white dog tooth check suit to wear. I met up with Ione and we went off to The Bedford Hotel where the band were staying. We were looked older than our years, but were not worldly and so did not just walk into the hotel, but rather waited outside, joining a handful of other girls.  There was a huge glass window to the restaurant area  and we could see in. Presently the band came down for breakfast and sat right in the window soon we were communicating by gesture and mick tipped his hand as if drinking and I nodded my head. The next moment he was outside and invited Ione and I in to have breakfast with them all.  Soon David came down and joined us all and then all too soon it was time for them to leave.  Mick asked me if I wanted to go to Croyden with them for the next gig that night, not realizing my age. Of course I wanted to but had to decline. We were asked to go outside as there were TV camera crews outside by then and the band came out and had to make it look as if we had just met. Sadly we waved goodbye to them all.

That night  we were sat  having our tea and I heard my mum shout oh my god Vanessa, what are you doing on TV. The cameramen had caught us on film and there we were waving the band goodbye. Not only was I busted for bunking off school, but for borrowing my mums suit!!! Luckily she saw the funny side of it, my Dad was not informed.

There were many more gigs and many more meetings after that. David and Mick became my introduction to the glamour of the London music scene, in which I thrived, I had developed a passion for Vintage clothing as I could buy the most glamourous things to wear and started to develop my style. but for now the scene has been set. My horizons were widened, I was no longer content with my life and longed for the glamour of London and  later New York.  For a working class girl,I dreamed the impossible dream.  But in those days I had a big talent for making things happen.  When I was sixteen, as soon as I could leave home, I packed my bags and I set off to live in London. I had secured a job at an hotel in Bayswater and lived there while I tried getting jobs in record companies and other more glamourous places. After an eventful year and a half in London trying  to get work, working and partying hard, I quit my job and moved back to Brighton but it was never the same. I settled back into Brighton and its thriving punk music scene making friends with all the bands and sharing my London contacts with them.  When I was just 19, I met a chap called Vinda at a Piranha s gig in Brighton. Fell in Love and moved up to London to be with him.

I know I’m missing out loads but they are for the book lol . No I will return and write in more detail if it becomes relevant. I am merely trying to outline my life here.

In London I signed on looking for work, but once again could not secure a job that interested me.  Vinda and I had found a squat to live in.  It was licenced to his college and in Whitechapel, a three room apartment, bathroom, Kitchen and another fairly large room. The talented Vinda Built a raised bed in the large room with a  long corner sofa attached to it. We had a tea chest that we put a wooden palette on for atable and other piece of furniture we made up out of things we found, or bought down Brick Lane Street market.  We had a sofa bed in the kitchen for when friends came to stay and were very happy there apart from the poverty we lived in.  

It was then that my friend Amanda took a stall in Kensington market, making up clothes and selling them there. She found it hard to find time to make them and man the stall so it was arranged that I would work there for half the week for no wage but I could have half the stall.  I have already mentioned that I had developed a penchant for vintage clothing and there were several vintage stall in Kensington market, so I literally put all of my clothes, shoes and handbags into the stall. It became my wardrobe, I would take home something of a night to wear the next day, wash what I had worn and put it back on the stall as stock, buying more from scouring jumble sales and trips to Brick lane market.  It was not long before I built up a good business. I spent my evenings clubbing and my days in the stall or scouring for stock.  Kensington market became really trendy and we made lots of friends there, including the lovely Gaz Mayall, who asked me to do the door later when he opened his club, ‘Gaz’s Rockin Blues’.

During this time we managed to save enough for a deposit on a house in the East End in Bow and were later to open a shop in New Oxford Street called Cuba. Which we ran happily until our lease was up and not renewed. (again more details in later blogs but I am trying as quickly as possible to get to today)

The property market was at its height and we tried to get another shop in the West End, but were constantly gazumped as the prices rose and rose beyond our reach. By this time I was 29 and we had been seriously considering children and the time seemed right to indulge ourselves.  Two daughters later and by default I became a stay at home mum, not what I had intended. We lived happily in our house  in Bow, but Vinda became discontent with living in London and the constant struggle trying to get across London to work.  On a trip out of London we stopped on the way back in Monmouth and Vinda fell in love with an old farm/manor house and so we ended up moving out of London which I still loved, but was prepared to move, 1 for the adventure of it and 2 because I loved Vinda.

Life was no longer in my control. Vinda was well established working in London  and continued going back to London to work during the week and came home weekends leaving me at home, in the middle of the country three miles from the nearest Village.  AT first I was happy enough, it was like being on holiday, but soon I became bored and lonely. It was also a big culture shock. I was totally unused to country life and it was struggle to learn and fit in.  I was lucky that I still had my upbeat personality and that saw me through several years until I got worn down, living next door to the neighbor from hell, I was losing myself more and more. I threw myself into my garden and that seemed to content me. I had three acres to deal with and it took up my time. I grew all our own vegetables and sold off the surplus at the WI market for pocket money.

It was after a shocking and sad incident when my daughters best friend, and the best friend I had made here’s daughetr was murdered that my life took another turning. We were all devastated by the passing of Emma and were totally in shock, she was murdered in late May.  We carried on best we could and gave as much support to Karen, her mother, as we were able.  I was unable to function properly, Karen’s plight became mine as I sought to help her get back on her feet.  The school holidays were coming to an end and I was dreading being on my own all week. I went to Usk College to look at doing some part time classes in horticulture as I had always been a keen gardener. I thought it might give me something else to focus on.  While I was enquiring one of the tutors came out and said to me that, in my position, I could do a full time course for free. I talked to Vinda about it and then signed up for a two year National Diploma in Horticulture. Which I duly signed up for and excelled at getting a distinction in every module. When I finished that I then signed up for a two year course at Pershore colledge in Worcester to do a HNC in garden design again getting a distinction.  On finishing the course the head of my old college at Usk  asked me if I would like to teach there. So I took a job teaching garden design and history and also running the garden design evening course. I both loved and hated it. The garden design courses were great with people who were really interested, but the diploma courses were more difficult. The students were mainly interested in doing practical things rather than learning in a classroom and mainly wanted to go work for the council after the course, few had interest in the subject I was teaching.

So here I am. Having been through a difficult couple of years, stressful job, neighbour, who by now I am by now taking to court after finding him plumbed into my water and electricity supplies, acting as my own solicitor and having to learn about the law as I cant afford help. My relationship with Vinda had come to a point where we barely communicated. A friend said to me Vanessa you are severely depressed, go to the doctors and get some Prozac, so I did. From then on things went from bad to worse. I became totally paranoid about my neighbour, who I was certain had been breaking into my house.  Well he would not have even had to break in, Vinda had not changed the locks since we moved in and I was certain the neighbour still had a key. I would return home and find things gone or the kettle hot when no-one had been in, all sort of things. Vinda would still not change the lock although I begged him to, as I was home alone with the girls during the week. The paranoia then extended itself to Vinda and I became really ill to the point where they asked me to go into hospital, which I did, only to come home to the same situation.  With no family and few friends around to help.  I felt more and more isolated and ended up back in hospital. When I came home they put me on some very powerful drugs for about eighteen months or so. I could not function on them. They had given me a diagnosis of Bi Polar affective disorder. I did nothing for all that time. I just sat in a chair, putting on more weight. I had already put on weight after having our girls, and the drugs made me put on more. I was like a slug I would sit in the chair with the TV on, I could not even tell you what was on. My family would get really angry with me and shout at me that I was useless. My relationship with my girls and Vinda suffered. 

I was at the point of suicide when I finally said to my support worker that’s it I have had enough, I cant live like this anymore. Luckily they stepped in and told the doctor, who then agreed that I could come off the drug I was on and made an effort to find me something which I would at least be able to function on.  I was still ill but I had made a start on the long road to recovery.  When I finally had my eyes open, I looked at my once lovely garden, now overgrown and full of nettles and brambles and I did not have the heart to start again, the once coveted three acres became a sign of my weakness and I no longer found the escape I once had in the garden. I could no longer bear it. It was a sign of my failure and despair.

My relationship with the girls and Vinda had become strained to the point of failure.  We never said to each other that’s it, but one day I just put a bed and all his things in the spare room, when he came home that weekend, he just said, oh that’s very clever, sarcastically, but movedinto it without challenge. I turned my bedroom into a bedsit and stayed living in there rather than go in the family rooms where I was either ignored or ridiculed.  Things went form bad to worse.

Then to cut a long story short, Vinda was inspected by the tax man and owed them a lot of money he could not raise so the house had to be sold to pay the taxes owing. I was sad for him as he was in love with that house, but for me it had been an unhappy place where I had lost myself. It did not sell in the allocated time so we were given and eviction notice so it could sent to auction. On the day of the eviction, my support worker had arranged for me to be taken to a B&B, where I lived for 5 months I was then given a small studio flat with bathroom which I lived in while the house was sold.  On the sale of the house the tax man gave me my half and took there money from Vindas before they gave him what was left.  My girls were furious and told me if I did not give the money to him they would never speak to me a gain. I was torn dreadfully. But even had I done that I would still not have had their love. They had not understood my illness and blamed the failure of the family on me as if I had had some control over myself while I was ill. 

Now I think I’m at the point where my story begins again. With my money I bought a small 2 bedroomed house with a garden. Damn another garden that’s been neglected  to look after!!!!! It had the advantage that the road runs in front of the house cutting off the garden so I could disassociate myself from it. I was not keen to garden again, once the passion of my life it had now become a burden a symbol of my failure. I was still very depressed but I set myself about personalizing the house as best I could. Every so often, as one is supposed to do with a garden that new to you, I would cross the road and walk through it noting all that needed to be done.  I had left all of my gardening tools behind at the old house so could not even do anything if I wanted to. Eventually as I walked, I would start to pull a few weeds and even spent two whole days in the garden, but hurt my back and it put me off again. Still I would wander through noting all the plants and wondering if I would ever do anything with it. Then Tescos had a club card scheme to double your points and I used them to buy some gardening tools and my sister gave me a few surplus to her need, but still they lay neglected in the shed.

Last winter I met a tree surgeon and asked him to take out most of the trees in my garden, as I had noted they were mostly varieties that would grow huge and cost a fortune to remove if I left them to a later date, The whole aspect of the garden changed from a shaded overgrown plot to a sunny open one.  One day when I was feeling up I went and got the garden spade out and dug out all the raspberry canes that had been allowed to run through the small veggie beds . again I dug all day and hurt my back, so that was it.  This whole year has been one of such change to me. Getting used to living on my own after being in a relationship for 34 years and living without my family has been a huge step for me.  There have been many times in the last couple of years when I have felt weak in myself and worthless to the point I could not care for my existence, but it seems little by little, I am getting to a point of contentment with what I have and who I am. I have been getting in touch with old friends, who give a piece of me back to myself and make me remember who I was before the nightmare began. I must say facebook has been a saving grace, helping me find my old friends and make new ones. Without it my world may not have opened up again, Gradually I feel I am re-establishing myself.  I feel stronger and stronger day by day and although I cant say I’m back to myself, I still have dark days,  now I can see the light. This spring seems to have been a turning point, not only did I pick up my spade and re-dig the veggie plot, I went out and planted what I had cleared and have started to go back into the garden every day to do a little, not too much I have learned, but enough to see a little progress. I decided to use my talents in gardening and design and get back out and have a go. Each day I am in the garden I feel lighter in mood and am excited once again by the things growing in it, have a vision of what it could be. I even thought I might write a book to rival the one ‘Old Garden New Gardener’ . Perhaps this is the starting point.  I don’t know if this will be of interest to anyone, or if anyone will care to follow my progress. I have laid myself bare here. A kind of warts and all exposure.  This blog will be my diary of my garden and personal progress. A kind of therapy for myself and a record so I can see how far I travel. Hopefully with some useful gardening tips on the way and certainly a seasonal record of when to do what in the garden.  When I discover how to I will include photographs of my journey through the season and progress.  Hopefully it will inspire others who have had similar problems to have a go. I’m also happy to answer gardening questions and problems if I can.  I think that’s enough for today.  I hope I don’t regret posting this tomorrow lol as they say….

 Please excuse any typos etc as I have written this with no spellcheck.  And I am not going to read it back in case I don’t post….

I intend using this blog as a diary of progress, mainly about my gardening exploits.  I have not kept a diary since my mother read mine when I was fourteen years old and I took them into the garden and burned them all in a fit of fury.  I‘m a very open person and feel like I should give a bit of background about myself to explain why I want to keep a blog diary and also why it might help or be of use to others.

I was raised in Brighton. There was nothing remarkable about my childhood, it was happy enough as although I had a father who was prone to violence I had a very optimistic and vibrant personality and managed to shrug off or ignore what was wrong and see the fun things in life. When I was twelve, in 1972 my elder sister Fays friend, Ione, took me with her to The Rainbow Theatre in London to see David Bowie, I was rather nonchalant about it, I liked his music, Ione played it to me frequently, but I did not really know much about him. We arrived at The Rainbow and took our seats, it was exciting, waiting eagerly for him to come on, but at this point so would any show have been.  David walked onstage and started to sing,, within minutes I put my hand on Iones arm and uttered the words, “oh my god Ione, I love him.” That was it, wham bam thank you maam, I was in love totally and with all the passion of an adolescent, it was love at first sight. The music, the show and him, I was gripped and could not take my eyes from of him.

David Bowie became my passion. I saved up for or nicked his records from boots and bought every copy of every paper that had a mention, no matter how small, of him. I found friends who also liked him and a whole new world opened up for me. It was with great excitement that that his Ziggy Stardust tour was announced and Ione and I got tickets to go and see him for the 23^rd of May 1973 at Brighton Dome. We excitedly counted down the days to the show.  We did not have much money coming in at home at that time, so mum used my school uniform grant to buy fabric and made me a beautiful halter neck waistcoat, made out 18 pieces of blue denim with flocked red stars on, and lovingly stitched the words Ziggy on in sequins, to wear for the event.  Eventually, it seemed like ages, the day arrived for the show.  Within minutes we were up and out of our, rather excellent seats, and ran down the front and were crammed by the ensuing crowd against the stage. We were slightly to left of centre stage, where Mick Ronson stood. The show was totally amazing, I can still see it  in my minds eye. At the end of the show, Mick Ronson looked directly at me and held out his hand to me, so I reached up and he took my hand, when finally we let go hands, I found he had left his guitar plectrum in my palm. It was a cherry red heart, with his signature on in gold.

Of course, Ione and I talked our way backstage but when we got there, the band had already departed. I’m sad to say we ravaged the dressing room for momentoes before we left clutching anything from Davids trousers and towel to Trevor Bolders navy blue platform boots.  I charmed an tour aide into telling me which hotel  they were staying at.  I was always on a tight curfew from my father, although he would let me out later with Ione looking after me (ha ha ) so we decided to go home and bunk off school the next day and go early to the hotel.

Next day, I waited for mum and dad to go to work and then carefully dressed, borrowing my mums black and white dog tooth check suit to wear. I met up with Ione and we went off to The Bedford Hotel where the band were staying. We were looked older than our years, but were not worldly and so did not just walk into the hotel, but rather waited outside, joining a handful of other girls.  There was a huge glass window to the restaurant area  and we could see in. Presently the band came down for breakfast and sat right in the window soon we were communicating by gesture and mick tipped his hand as if drinking and I nodded my head. The next moment he was outside and invited Ione and I in to have breakfast with them all.  Soon David came down and joined us all and then all too soon it was time for them to leave.  Mick asked me if I wanted to go to Croyden with them for the next gig that night, not realizing my age. Of course I wanted to but had to decline. We were asked to go outside as there were TV camera crews outside by then and the band came out and had to make it look as if we had just met. Sadly we waved goodbye to them all.

That night  we were sat  having our tea and I heard my mum shout oh my god Vanessa, what are you doing on TV. The cameramen had caught us on film and there we were waving the band goodbye. Not only was I busted for bunking off school, but for borrowing my mums suit!!! Luckily she saw the funny side of it, my Dad was not informed.

There were many more gigs and many more meetings after that. David and Mick became my introduction to the glamour of the London music scene, in which I thrived, I had developed a passion for Vintage clothing as I could buy the most glamourous things to wear and started to develop my style. but for now the scene has been set. My horizons were widened, I was no longer content with my life and longed for the glamour of London and  later New York.  For a working class girl,I dreamed the impossible dream.  But in those days I had a big talent for making things happen.  When I was sixteen, as soon as I could leave home, I packed my bags and I set off to live in London. I had secured a job at an hotel in Bayswater and lived there while I tried getting jobs in record companies and other more glamourous places. After an eventful year and a half in London trying  to get work, working and partying hard, I quit my job and moved back to Brighton but it was never the same. I settled back into Brighton and its thriving punk music scene making friends with all the bands and sharing my London contacts with them.  When I was just 19, I met a chap called Vinda at a Piranha s gig in Brighton. Fell in Love and moved up to London to be with him.

I know I’m missing out loads but they are for the book lol . No I will return and write in more detail if it becomes relevant. I am merely trying to outline my life here.

In London I signed on looking for work, but once again could not secure a job that interested me.  Vinda and I had found a squat to live in.  It was licenced to his college and in Whitechapel, a three room apartment, bathroom, Kitchen and another fairly large room. The talented Vinda Built a raised bed in the large room with a  long corner sofa attached to it. We had a tea chest that we put a wooden palette on for atable and other piece of furniture we made up out of things we found, or bought down Brick Lane Street market.  We had a sofa bed in the kitchen for when friends came to stay and were very happy there apart from the poverty we lived in.  

It was then that my friend Amanda took a stall in Kensington market, making up clothes and selling them there. She found it hard to find time to make them and man the stall so it was arranged that I would work there for half the week for no wage but I could have half the stall.  I have already mentioned that I had developed a penchant for vintage clothing and there were several vintage stall in Kensington market, so I literally put all of my clothes, shoes and handbags into the stall. It became my wardrobe, I would take home something of a night to wear the next day, wash what I had worn and put it back on the stall as stock, buying more from scouring jumble sales and trips to Brick lane market.  It was not long before I built up a good business. I spent my evenings clubbing and my days in the stall or scouring for stock.  Kensington market became really trendy and we made lots of friends there, including the lovely Gaz Mayall, who asked me to do the door later when he opened his club, ‘Gaz’s Rockin Blues’.

During this time we managed to save enough for a deposit on a house in the East End in Bow and were later to open a shop in New Oxford Street called Cuba. Which we ran happily until our lease was up and not renewed. (again more details in later blogs but I am trying as quickly as possible to get to today)

The property market was at its height and we tried to get another shop in the West End, but were constantly gazumped as the prices rose and rose beyond our reach. By this time I was 29 and we had been seriously considering children and the time seemed right to indulge ourselves.  Two daughters later and by default I became a stay at home mum, not what I had intended. We lived happily in our house  in Bow, but Vinda became discontent with living in London and the constant struggle trying to get across London to work.  On a trip out of London we stopped on the way back in Monmouth and Vinda fell in love with an old farm/manor house and so we ended up moving out of London which I still loved, but was prepared to move, 1 for the adventure of it and 2 because I loved Vinda.

Life was no longer in my control. Vinda was well established working in London  and continued going back to London to work during the week and came home weekends leaving me at home, in the middle of the country three miles from the nearest Village.  AT first I was happy enough, it was like being on holiday, but soon I became bored and lonely. It was also a big culture shock. I was totally unused to country life and it was struggle to learn and fit in.  I was lucky that I still had my upbeat personality and that saw me through several years until I got worn down, living next door to the neighbor from hell, I was losing myself more and more. I threw myself into my garden and that seemed to content me. I had three acres to deal with and it took up my time. I grew all our own vegetables and sold off the surplus at the WI market for pocket money.

It was after a shocking and sad incident when my daughters best friend, and the best friend I had made here’s daughetr was murdered that my life took another turning. We were all devastated by the passing of Emma and were totally in shock, she was murdered in late May.  We carried on best we could and gave as much support to Karen, her mother, as we were able.  I was unable to function properly, Karen’s plight became mine as I sought to help her get back on her feet.  The school holidays were coming to an end and I was dreading being on my own all week. I went to Usk College to look at doing some part time classes in horticulture as I had always been a keen gardener. I thought it might give me something else to focus on.  While I was enquiring one of the tutors came out and said to me that, in my position, I could do a full time course for free. I talked to Vinda about it and then signed up for a two year National Diploma in Horticulture. Which I duly signed up for and excelled at getting a distinction in every module. When I finished that I then signed up for a two year course at Pershore colledge in Worcester to do a HNC in garden design again getting a distinction.  On finishing the course the head of my old college at Usk  asked me if I would like to teach there. So I took a job teaching garden design and history and also running the garden design evening course. I both loved and hated it. The garden design courses were great with people who were really interested, but the diploma courses were more difficult. The students were mainly interested in doing practical things rather than learning in a classroom and mainly wanted to go work for the council after the course, few had interest in the subject I was teaching.

So here I am. Having been through a difficult couple of years, stressful job, neighbour, who by now I am by now taking to court after finding him plumbed into my water and electricity supplies, acting as my own solicitor and having to learn about the law as I cant afford help. My relationship with Vinda had come to a point where we barely communicated. A friend said to me Vanessa you are severely depressed, go to the doctors and get some Prozac, so I did. From then on things went from bad to worse. I became totally paranoid about my neighbour, who I was certain had been breaking into my house.  Well he would not have even had to break in, Vinda had not changed the locks since we moved in and I was certain the neighbour still had a key. I would return home and find things gone or the kettle hot when no-one had been in, all sort of things. Vinda would still not change the lock although I begged him to, as I was home alone with the girls during the week. The paranoia then extended itself to Vinda and I became really ill to the point where they asked me to go into hospital, which I did, only to come home to the same situation.  With no family and few friends around to help.  I felt more and more isolated and ended up back in hospital. When I came home they put me on some very powerful drugs for about eighteen months or so. I could not function on them. They had given me a diagnosis of Bi Polar affective disorder. I did nothing for all that time. I just sat in a chair, putting on more weight. I had already put on weight after having our girls, and the drugs made me put on more. I was like a slug I would sit in the chair with the TV on, I could not even tell you what was on. My family would get really angry with me and shout at me that I was useless. My relationship with my girls and Vinda suffered. 

I was at the point of suicide when I finally said to my support worker that’s it I have had enough, I cant live like this anymore. Luckily they stepped in and told the doctor, who then agreed that I could come off the drug I was on and made an effort to find me something which I would at least be able to function on.  I was still ill but I had made a start on the long road to recovery.  When I finally had my eyes open, I looked at my once lovely garden, now overgrown and full of nettles and brambles and I did not have the heart to start again, the once coveted three acres became a sign of my weakness and I no longer found the escape I once had in the garden. I could no longer bear it. It was a sign of my failure and despair.

My relationship with the girls and Vinda had become strained to the point of failure.  We never said to each other that’s it, but one day I just put a bed and all his things in the spare room, when he came home that weekend, he just said, oh that’s very clever, sarcastically, but movedinto it without challenge. I turned my bedroom into a bedsit and stayed living in there rather than go in the family rooms where I was either ignored or ridiculed.  Things went form bad to worse.

Then to cut a long story short, Vinda was inspected by the tax man and owed them a lot of money he could not raise so the house had to be sold to pay the taxes owing. I was sad for him as he was in love with that house, but for me it had been an unhappy place where I had lost myself. It did not sell in the allocated time so we were given and eviction notice so it could sent to auction. On the day of the eviction, my support worker had arranged for me to be taken to a B&B, where I lived for 5 months I was then given a small studio flat with bathroom which I lived in while the house was sold.  On the sale of the house the tax man gave me my half and took there money from Vindas before they gave him what was left.  My girls were furious and told me if I did not give the money to him they would never speak to me a gain. I was torn dreadfully. But even had I done that I would still not have had their love. They had not understood my illness and blamed the failure of the family on me as if I had had some control over myself while I was ill. 

Now I think I’m at the point where my story begins again. With my money I bought a small 2 bedroomed house with a garden. Damn another garden that’s been neglected  to look after!!!!! It had the advantage that the road runs in front of the house cutting off the garden so I could disassociate myself from it. I was not keen to garden again, once the passion of my life it had now become a burden a symbol of my failure. I was still very depressed but I set myself about personalizing the house as best I could. Every so often, as one is supposed to do with a garden that new to you, I would cross the road and walk through it noting all that needed to be done.  I had left all of my gardening tools behind at the old house so could not even do anything if I wanted to. Eventually as I walked, I would start to pull a few weeds and even spent two whole days in the garden, but hurt my back and it put me off again. Still I would wander through noting all the plants and wondering if I would ever do anything with it. Then Tescos had a club card scheme to double your points and I used them to buy some gardening tools and my sister gave me a few surplus to her need, but still they lay neglected in the shed.

Last winter I met a tree surgeon and asked him to take out most of the trees in my garden, as I had noted they were mostly varieties that would grow huge and cost a fortune to remove if I left them to a later date, The whole aspect of the garden changed from a shaded overgrown plot to a sunny open one.  One day when I was feeling up I went and got the garden spade out and dug out all the raspberry canes that had been allowed to run through the small veggie beds . again I dug all day and hurt my back, so that was it.  This whole year has been one of such change to me. Getting used to living on my own after being in a relationship for 34 years and living without my family has been a huge step for me.  There have been many times in the last couple of years when I have felt weak in myself and worthless to the point I could not care for my existence, but it seems little by little, I am getting to a point of contentment with what I have and who I am. I have been getting in touch with old friends, who give a piece of me back to myself and make me remember who I was before the nightmare began. I must say facebook has been a saving grace, helping me find my old friends and make new ones. Without it my world may not have opened up again, Gradually I feel I am re-establishing myself.  I feel stronger and stronger day by day and although I cant say I’m back to myself, I still have dark days,  now I can see the light. This spring seems to have been a turning point, not only did I pick up my spade and re-dig the veggie plot, I went out and planted what I had cleared and have started to go back into the garden every day to do a little, not too much I have learned, but enough to see a little progress. I decided to use my talents in gardening and design and get back out and have a go. Each day I am in the garden I feel lighter in mood and am excited once again by the things growing in it, have a vision of what it could be. I even thought I might write a book to rival the one ‘Old Garden New Gardener’ . Perhaps this is the starting point.  I don’t know if this will be of interest to anyone, or if anyone will care to follow my progress. I have laid myself bare here. A kind of warts and all exposure.  This blog will be my diary of my garden and personal progress. A kind of therapy for myself and a record so I can see how far I travel. Hopefully with some useful gardening tips on the way and certainly a seasonal record of when to do what in the garden.  When I discover how to I will include photographs of my journey through the season and progress.  Hopefully it will inspire others who have had similar problems to have a go. I’m also happy to answer gardening questions and problems if I can.  I think that’s enough for today.  I hope I don’t regret posting this tomorrow lol as they say….

 Please excuse any typos etc as I have written this with no spellcheck.  And I am not going to read it back in case I don’t post….

Introduction to Gardenvenus

I intend using this blog as a diary of progress, mainly about my gardening exploits.  I have not kept a diary since my mother read mine when I was fourteen years old and I took them into the garden and burned them all in a fit of fury.  I‘m a very open person and feel like I should give a bit of background about myself to explain why I want to keep a blog diary and also why it might help or be of use to others.

I was raised in Brighton. There was nothing remarkable about my childhood, it was happy enough as although I had a father who was prone to violence I had a very optimistic and vibrant personality and managed to shrug off or ignore what was wrong and see the fun things in life. When I was twelve, in 1972 my elder sister Fays friend, Ione, took me with her to The Rainbow Theatre in London to see David Bowie, I was rather nonchalant about it, I liked his music, Ione played it to me frequently, but I did not really know much about him. We arrived at The Rainbow and took our seats, it was exciting, waiting eagerly for him to come on, but at this point so would any show have been.  David walked onstage and started to sing,, within minutes I put my hand on Iones arm and uttered the words, “oh my god Ione, I love him.” That was it, wham bam thank you maam, I was in love totally and with all the passion of an adolescent, it was love at first sight. The music, the show and him, I was gripped and could not take my eyes from of him.

David Bowie became my passion. I saved up for or nicked his records from boots and bought every copy of every paper that had a mention, no matter how small, of him. I found friends who also liked him and a whole new world opened up for me. It was with great excitement that that his Ziggy Stardust tour was announced and Ione and I got tickets to go and see him for the 23^rd of May 1973 at Brighton Dome. We excitedly counted down the days to the show.  We did not have much money coming in at home at that time, so mum used my school uniform grant to buy fabric and made me a beautiful halter neck waistcoat, made out 18 pieces of blue denim with flocked red stars on, and lovingly stitched the words Ziggy on in sequins, to wear for the event.  Eventually, it seemed like ages, the day arrived for the show.  Within minutes we were up and out of our, rather excellent seats, and ran down the front and were crammed by the ensuing crowd against the stage. We were slightly to left of centre stage, where Mick Ronson stood. The show was totally amazing, I can still see it  in my minds eye. At the end of the show, Mick Ronson looked directly at me and held out his hand to me, so I reached up and he took my hand, when finally we let go hands, I found he had left his guitar plectrum in my palm. It was a cherry red heart, with his signature on in gold.

Of course, Ione and I talked our way backstage but when we got there, the band had already departed. I’m sad to say we ravaged the dressing room for momentoes before we left clutching anything from Davids trousers and towel to Trevor Bolders navy blue platform boots.  I charmed an tour aide into telling me which hotel  they were staying at.  I was always on a tight curfew from my father, although he would let me out later with Ione looking after me (ha ha ) so we decided to go home and bunk off school the next day and go early to the hotel.

Next day, I waited for mum and dad to go to work and then carefully dressed, borrowing my mums black and white dog tooth check suit to wear. I met up with Ione and we went off to The Bedford Hotel where the band were staying. We were looked older than our years, but were not worldly and so did not just walk into the hotel, but rather waited outside, joining a handful of other girls.  There was a huge glass window to the restaurant area  and we could see in. Presently the band came down for breakfast and sat right in the window soon we were communicating by gesture and mick tipped his hand as if drinking and I nodded my head. The next moment he was outside and invited Ione and I in to have breakfast with them all.  Soon David came down and joined us all and then all too soon it was time for them to leave.  Mick asked me if I wanted to go to Croyden with them for the next gig that night, not realizing my age. Of course I wanted to but had to decline. We were asked to go outside as there were TV camera crews outside by then and the band came out and had to make it look as if we had just met. Sadly we waved goodbye to them all.

That night  we were sat  having our tea and I heard my mum shout oh my god Vanessa, what are you doing on TV. The cameramen had caught us on film and there we were waving the band goodbye. Not only was I busted for bunking off school, but for borrowing my mums suit!!! Luckily she saw the funny side of it, my Dad was not informed.

There were many more gigs and many more meetings after that. David and Mick became my introduction to the glamour of the London music scene, in which I thrived, I had developed a passion for Vintage clothing as I could buy the most glamourous things to wear and started to develop my style. but for now the scene has been set. My horizons were widened, I was no longer content with my life and longed for the glamour of London and  later New York.  For a working class girl,I dreamed the impossible dream.  But in those days I had a big talent for making things happen.  When I was sixteen, as soon as I could leave home, I packed my bags and I set off to live in London. I had secured a job at an hotel in Bayswater and lived there while I tried getting jobs in record companies and other more glamourous places. After an eventful year and a half in London trying  to get work, working and partying hard, I quit my job and moved back to Brighton but it was never the same. I settled back into Brighton and its thriving punk music scene making friends with all the bands and sharing my London contacts with them.  When I was just 19, I met a chap called Vinda at a Piranha s gig in Brighton. Fell in Love and moved up to London to be with him.

I know I’m missing out loads but they are for the book lol . No I will return and write in more detail if it becomes relevant. I am merely trying to outline my life here.

In London I signed on looking for work, but once again could not secure a job that interested me.  Vinda and I had found a squat to live in.  It was licenced to his college and in Whitechapel, a three room apartment, bathroom, Kitchen and another fairly large room. The talented Vinda Built a raised bed in the large room with a  long corner sofa attached to it. We had a tea chest that we put a wooden palette on for atable and other piece of furniture we made up out of things we found, or bought down Brick Lane Street market.  We had a sofa bed in the kitchen for when friends came to stay and were very happy there apart from the poverty we lived in.  

It was then that my friend Amanda took a stall in Kensington market, making up clothes and selling them there. She found it hard to find time to make them and man the stall so it was arranged that I would work there for half the week for no wage but I could have half the stall.  I have already mentioned that I had developed a penchant for vintage clothing and there were several vintage stall in Kensington market, so I literally put all of my clothes, shoes and handbags into the stall. It became my wardrobe, I would take home something of a night to wear the next day, wash what I had worn and put it back on the stall as stock, buying more from scouring jumble sales and trips to Brick lane market.  It was not long before I built up a good business. I spent my evenings clubbing and my days in the stall or scouring for stock.  Kensington market became really trendy and we made lots of friends there, including the lovely Gaz Mayall, who asked me to do the door later when he opened his club, ‘Gaz’s Rockin Blues’.

During this time we managed to save enough for a deposit on a house in the East End in Bow and were later to open a shop in New Oxford Street called Cuba. Which we ran happily until our lease was up and not renewed. (again more details in later blogs but I am trying as quickly as possible to get to today)

The property market was at its height and we tried to get another shop in the West End, but were constantly gazumped as the prices rose and rose beyond our reach. By this time I was 29 and we had been seriously considering children and the time seemed right to indulge ourselves.  Two daughters later and by default I became a stay at home mum, not what I had intended. We lived happily in our house  in Bow, but Vinda became discontent with living in London and the constant struggle trying to get across London to work.  On a trip out of London we stopped on the way back in Monmouth and Vinda fell in love with an old farm/manor house and so we ended up moving out of London which I still loved, but was prepared to move, 1 for the adventure of it and 2 because I loved Vinda.

Life was no longer in my control. Vinda was well established working in London  and continued going back to London to work during the week and came home weekends leaving me at home, in the middle of the country three miles from the nearest Village.  AT first I was happy enough, it was like being on holiday, but soon I became bored and lonely. It was also a big culture shock. I was totally unused to country life and it was struggle to learn and fit in.  I was lucky that I still had my upbeat personality and that saw me through several years until I got worn down, living next door to the neighbor from hell, I was losing myself more and more. I threw myself into my garden and that seemed to content me. I had three acres to deal with and it took up my time. I grew all our own vegetables and sold off the surplus at the WI market for pocket money.

It was after a shocking and sad incident when my daughters best friend, and the best friend I had made here’s daughetr was murdered that my life took another turning. We were all devastated by the passing of Emma and were totally in shock, she was murdered in late May.  We carried on best we could and gave as much support to Karen, her mother, as we were able.  I was unable to function properly, Karen’s plight became mine as I sought to help her get back on her feet.  The school holidays were coming to an end and I was dreading being on my own all week. I went to Usk College to look at doing some part time classes in horticulture as I had always been a keen gardener. I thought it might give me something else to focus on.  While I was enquiring one of the tutors came out and said to me that, in my position, I could do a full time course for free. I talked to Vinda about it and then signed up for a two year National Diploma in Horticulture. Which I duly signed up for and excelled at getting a distinction in every module. When I finished that I then signed up for a two year course at Pershore colledge in Worcester to do a HNC in garden design again getting a distinction.  On finishing the course the head of my old college at Usk  asked me if I would like to teach there. So I took a job teaching garden design and history and also running the garden design evening course. I both loved and hated it. The garden design courses were great with people who were really interested, but the diploma courses were more difficult. The students were mainly interested in doing practical things rather than learning in a classroom and mainly wanted to go work for the council after the course, few had interest in the subject I was teaching.

So here I am. Having been through a difficult couple of years, stressful job, neighbour, who by now I am by now taking to court after finding him plumbed into my water and electricity supplies, acting as my own solicitor and having to learn about the law as I cant afford help. My relationship with Vinda had come to a point where we barely communicated. A friend said to me Vanessa you are severely depressed, go to the doctors and get some Prozac, so I did. From then on things went from bad to worse. I became totally paranoid about my neighbour, who I was certain had been breaking into my house.  Well he would not have even had to break in, Vinda had not changed the locks since we moved in and I was certain the neighbour still had a key. I would return home and find things gone or the kettle hot when no-one had been in, all sort of things. Vinda would still not change the lock although I begged him to, as I was home alone with the girls during the week. The paranoia then extended itself to Vinda and I became really ill to the point where they asked me to go into hospital, which I did, only to come home to the same situation.  With no family and few friends around to help.  I felt more and more isolated and ended up back in hospital. When I came home they put me on some very powerful drugs for about eighteen months or so. I could not function on them. They had given me a diagnosis of Bi Polar affective disorder. I did nothing for all that time. I just sat in a chair, putting on more weight. I had already put on weight after having our girls, and the drugs made me put on more. I was like a slug I would sit in the chair with the TV on, I could not even tell you what was on. My family would get really angry with me and shout at me that I was useless. My relationship with my girls and Vinda suffered. 

I was at the point of suicide when I finally said to my support worker that’s it I have had enough, I cant live like this anymore. Luckily they stepped in and told the doctor, who then agreed that I could come off the drug I was on and made an effort to find me something which I would at least be able to function on.  I was still ill but I had made a start on the long road to recovery.  When I finally had my eyes open, I looked at my once lovely garden, now overgrown and full of nettles and brambles and I did not have the heart to start again, the once coveted three acres became a sign of my weakness and I no longer found the escape I once had in the garden. I could no longer bear it. It was a sign of my failure and despair.

My relationship with the girls and Vinda had become strained to the point of failure.  We never said to each other that’s it, but one day I just put a bed and all his things in the spare room, when he came home that weekend, he just said, oh that’s very clever, sarcastically, but movedinto it without challenge. I turned my bedroom into a bedsit and stayed living in there rather than go in the family rooms where I was either ignored or ridiculed.  Things went form bad to worse.

Then to cut a long story short, Vinda was inspected by the tax man and owed them a lot of money he could not raise so the house had to be sold to pay the taxes owing. I was sad for him as he was in love with that house, but for me it had been an unhappy place where I had lost myself. It did not sell in the allocated time so we were given and eviction notice so it could sent to auction. On the day of the eviction, my support worker had arranged for me to be taken to a B&B, where I lived for 5 months I was then given a small studio flat with bathroom which I lived in while the house was sold.  On the sale of the house the tax man gave me my half and took there money from Vindas before they gave him what was left.  My girls were furious and told me if I did not give the money to him they would never speak to me a gain. I was torn dreadfully. But even had I done that I would still not have had their love. They had not understood my illness and blamed the failure of the family on me as if I had had some control over myself while I was ill. 

Now I think I’m at the point where my story begins again. With my money I bought a small 2 bedroomed house with a garden. Damn another garden that’s been neglected  to look after!!!!! It had the advantage that the road runs in front of the house cutting off the garden so I could disassociate myself from it. I was not keen to garden again, once the passion of my life it had now become a burden a symbol of my failure. I was still very depressed but I set myself about personalizing the house as best I could. Every so often, as one is supposed to do with a garden that new to you, I would cross the road and walk through it noting all that needed to be done.  I had left all of my gardening tools behind at the old house so could not even do anything if I wanted to. Eventually as I walked, I would start to pull a few weeds and even spent two whole days in the garden, but hurt my back and it put me off again. Still I would wander through noting all the plants and wondering if I would ever do anything with it. Then Tescos had a club card scheme to double your points and I used them to buy some gardening tools and my sister gave me a few surplus to her need, but still they lay neglected in the shed.

Last winter I met a tree surgeon and asked him to take out most of the trees in my garden, as I had noted they were mostly varieties that would grow huge and cost a fortune to remove if I left them to a later date, The whole aspect of the garden changed from a shaded overgrown plot to a sunny open one.  One day when I was feeling up I went and got the garden spade out and dug out all the raspberry canes that had been allowed to run through the small veggie beds . again I dug all day and hurt my back, so that was it.  This whole year has been one of such change to me. Getting used to living on my own after being in a relationship for 34 years and living without my family has been a huge step for me.  There have been many times in the last couple of years when I have felt weak in myself and worthless to the point I could not care for my existence, but it seems little by little, I am getting to a point of contentment with what I have and who I am. I have been getting in touch with old friends, who give a piece of me back to myself and make me remember who I was before the nightmare began. I must say facebook has been a saving grace, helping me find my old friends and make new ones. Without it my world may not have opened up again, Gradually I feel I am re-establishing myself.  I feel stronger and stronger day by day and although I cant say I’m back to myself, I still have dark days,  now I can see the light. This spring seems to have been a turning point, not only did I pick up my spade and re-dig the veggie plot, I went out and planted what I had cleared and have started to go back into the garden every day to do a little, not too much I have learned, but enough to see a little progress. I decided to use my talents in gardening and design and get back out and have a go. Each day I am in the garden I feel lighter in mood and am excited once again by the things growing in it, have a vision of what it could be. I even thought I might write a book to rival the one ‘Old Garden New Gardener’ . Perhaps this is the starting point.  I don’t know if this will be of interest to anyone, or if anyone will care to follow my progress. I have laid myself bare here. A kind of warts and all exposure.  This blog will be my diary of my garden and personal progress. A kind of therapy for myself and a record so I can see how far I travel. Hopefully with some useful gardening tips on the way and certainly a seasonal record of when to do what in the garden.  When I discover how to I will include photographs of my journey through the season and progress.  Hopefully it will inspire others who have had similar problems to have a go. I’m also happy to answer gardening questions and problems if I can.  I think that’s enough for today.  I hope I don’t regret posting this tomorrow lol as they say….

 Please excuse any typos etc as I have written this with no spellcheck.  And I am not going to read it back in case I don’t post….