One of the charming characteristics of keen gardeners is their generosity in sharing plants with others. Many gardens, ours included, have been established with freebies - those bits of plant and roots supplied by family and friends from their own gardens.
An essential part of a visit is a stroll round the garden to examine what's done well and any new or unusual acquisitions. This is followed by the garden owner going round the beds, trowel in hand to dig out bits of plants new to the visitor.
The result of this is that it's often possible to remember the source of different plants - it makes them much more personal to you. A couple are in flower at the moment that originate from the garden of the farm where I lived as a child. One is a pretty Dicentra that has delicate pink flowers and finely divided fern-like foliage, very common, but special because of the memories it evokes. The other is equally memorable. It's a bright yellow Turk's cap lily - quite ordinary - but aways known amongst us siblings as 'stinking rogers'. No-one seems to have a clue as to why we gave it this name, only that it does indeed stink, or has a pungent, unpleasant aroma.
So why beware?
There are times when a plant is donated simply because there's lots of it and it's growing really well. It is, we come to realise, actually very invasive and will soon colonise the whole garden. It's all to easy to get caught out in this way. Having admired a pale pink soapwort (Saponaria), I was given a bag full. How I regretted planting it. The first and second years all was well. It flowered beautifully. But too late I realised that it was nothing but a thug - all the other plants disappeared, being no match for the invader. Only by digging out the whole border and picking up every little bit of root could we eliminate the pest.
Today was spent in a not dissimilar manner. Many years ago, before I had wised up, a kind neighbour gave me a bit of creeping Jenny (Lysimachia) informing me that it has a lovely yellow flower. It does. It also spreads and covers everything in its path. Of course, had I given some thought to its name, or had the sense to look through gardening books, disaster could have been averted. Instead, every spring, a few happy hours are spent in the rockery ripping out Jenny from where she creeps.

One thing is sure...if we do not shop a little differently an important part of our heritage will go, only to be seen in some dreadful "theme market." Shopping in our local market, particularly at this cheese stall means you get authentic, traceable food, served with a smile and a friendly word. But not only that, you also get a bit of history. Mary used to first come to this stall, with her mother, who owned it then, over 50 years ago. It looks, she says, just the same. In a world that has become as packaged as a lot of the food we eat, this must be fairly rare.
But all is not doom and gloom. Sometimes, the queue at Mary's stall stretches well down the market. So, there must be lots of us who appreciate quality...and shopping in a more moderate and measured way.

Between the writing, cooking, sewing (Margaret) and the gardening we are having a good spring. One job I'm not at all sorry to see the back of is cleaning out the calf you see in the picture and her mates. Mind you they have had to listen to me telling them a fair lot of nonsense throughout the winter as I loaded the wheelbarrow. Who needs to lie on acouch and talk to a therapist? The other day we opened the shed door and they- very tentatively at first- began to venture out. But you should have seen them when they discovered the joy of long grass and freedom...leaping and jumping about. One of the most joyful sights of spring.

It can't be a year from the last one, can it? Surely not. Yes, the time for the open garden day in our village is nearly upon us...just over two weeks away. Please don't think from my tone that I'm in the least bit stressed about this. Panic is much closer to the mark!

Foolishly, along with lots of other locals we've agreed to open the garden so that people can come and have a wander around. Not that it takes very long in our particular plot. But what it lacks in size we hope it makes up for in interest. We presume there's been a garden here since the house was built, that is 1862 or thereabouts. There was quite a bit of dressed stone and lots of old bricks when we moved here so we've used these to build walls and stone steps up to the higher level. Well Les has - I just provide advice and copious amounts of tea.

My favourite part of the garden is a shallow trough, hewn by Brian from a large lump of stone, that forms part of a water feature. A lion's head, a gift from a neighbour, spurts water into the trough, which then overflows down the front onto some large pebbles.

Of course, there's loads of work to do to get everything ready and we're gardening fiendishly at every opportunity. It certainly gives a sense of purpose though and I must admit, I absolutely love the challenge. Such a short time - so many weeds. No pressure then.

We have been working on The Homely Year for almost 18 months, and I suppose it is fair to say it has had an impact on us, and those close to us - they may well be sick of the sound of our enthusiasm! By attempting to live a little more in tune with the seasons and echoing some of our disappearing traditions we have been inclined to stop and stare a bit more, and to appreciate what is going on in the current season. That is when we are not busy, making, doing, or of course, writing about it. A little quiet exploration in one of our gardens revealed the beautiful sight of a song thrush's nest.

Have you ever been to a well dressing? If you're anywhere near the Peak district in late spring and summer then do try and visit one of the many villages that decorate the wells - they are stunningly beautiful.
It's thought that the traditional of dressing wells dates back to pagan times when thanks were given to the gods for the vital supply of water. Many villages continue to dress the wells and hold a procession to visit each well, with inter-denominational blessings of the water.
The intricacy of some of the dressings takes your breath away. Boards are covered in wet clay and the design is assembled using flower petals, moss, seeds, stones, pebbles, leaves, cones - any natural
material, in fact. Some illustrate a religious text, while others have the natural world as a theme.
At the weekend, the village of Tissington held it's well dressing. It's one of the most well known and we can see why. Six wells are decorated, one by the children of the village. It was superb weather to wander around the village admiring the skill in each one, and enjoying a cream scone sitting outside the village hall.

We have written all about preparing the garden for winter. But I di not follow our advice last year, or if any tidying up and putting away did get done, it obviously fell short, and here is the result. a daft robin decided to build its nest in a plant poy which was lying abandoned on the ground by the greenhouse. It started something though. Brian's mission for the rest of spring was to photograph as many nests as possible. So, as we say again and again, we are amateurs, and do not claim to be perfect (or anywhere near) and a bit of untidiness often throws up some interesting results...

Since starting the book we have been much more conscious of the seasons - appreciating them, noticing the subtle changes and trying to carry out the activities most appropriate to this time of year...at the moment walking and taking in the hawthorn blossom, the massed bluebells and cow parsley tangled up in the rich green grass by the roadside. We are both nurturing herbs, salad leaves and other culinary plants, while beginning to think about village fetes, shows and 20 things to do with fruit! Though of course we like to shop, there is as least as much pleasure to be gained from not shopping. We are not extreme...or evangelical. I read an article in the Times the other day about thrift which is apparently catching on, particularly in the US. But there was a tinge of the cultish about it that made me uneasy. That may be the sign of a backlash against the designer madness of the past few years. We do not advocate any sackcloth and ashes...but there is a lot of fun to be had by well not shopping all the time...or maybe shopping a little more selectively. Charity shops, market stalls, independent butchers and greengrocers, specialist sweet, coffee and cheese shops deserve a collective award for hanging in there in the face of the giants. And as for little secondhand bookshops...paradise!

It was marketing day today. No supermarket means having to set off fairly early. First stop the butchers, a chat about my sister-in-law. Next stop the pet shop, more chat with the owner whose sister is ill. And so it goes, friendliness, smiles, warmth and not so much flaming endless decisions and meaningless choice. Just shopping, not a shopping "experience" where you know well you are being manipulated into buying stuff you do not even want. Later to the charity shops. That was good too, bought a jumper and a book. One thing though...I could do with another of those bags of Margaret's. I don't care if it is retro...colourful, whatever...

Such has been the success of the tote bag that colourful versions have been flicking through my mind. A root through some remnants of fabric has just turned up a scrap of cotton with circles in orange, brown and green - very retro. It will certainly be different...but then that's one of the maint points of spending time to create something. No-one else will have exactly the same. For us, it isn't just the end product though - there has to be enjoyment in the process.

Getting to this point hasn't been easy. Hope you're ready for a sob story!

The urge to be creative was always there as a child, but skill with a needle was conspicous by it's absence. At primary school this was a time when girls were still separated from the boys of the class for one afternoon a week. While the boys made interesting models with balsawood and glue, girls were at the mercy of a teacher who expected nothing less than perfection in the stitching of embroidered tray cloths, knitting bags, and fabric covered sewing boxes.

I failed miserably at these tasks and spent ages unpicking what had just taken me hours to sew. Needless to say, I didn't enjoy it. To add insult to injury, at home two older sisters were proficient at these skills, having been under the tutelage of the same teacher.

Not until I left school and decided to make myself something to wear did I realise that there was no real mystique to sewing, just a bit of practice. Some pretty fabric and a paper pattern soon became a dress. Compliments ensued. This was great.

Like anything, it's just wanting to have a go and giving ourselves opportunity to be creative. Hope we're right in thinking that sewing is ready for a resurgence in popularity.

Not that we've lived and breathed the book...but, well we have really, at least for the 12 months it took us to do it. Was it the way we were trying to live that inspired the book, or the other way around? Both, probably.
But many things were needling us. Just think...convenience food and supermarkets were meant to save us from the "drudgery" of going round the shops and cooking a meal. Supermarkets were meant to save us from the vagaries of shopping in the market, the butcher, the greengrocer...or the local shop. So, most of them disappear because of their inability to compete with those superpowers, the supermarkets. Our towns become places without life after 5pm, and without a heart. If you don't enjoy the supermarket experience you're sunk. Then what was supppose to represent more choice has actually replaced choice. And all that lovely time all this has freed up? PLeeease!
So we don't bother cooking, making or growing...we forget how to do it. But a lot of joy has disappeared too.
But...and this is not just because of our philosophy...we predict a sea change.....

It's strange how articles in the papers echo just what we're banging on about.

One tip on how to become more energy efficient and cut waste is to use a shopping bag rather than plastic carrier bags. Of course, there's also been all the furore recently about the designer bag. Just what we've been doing with the cotton tote bag we made that we've included in the book. Now we've got used to taking it with us it's great in shops to be able to say "I've got my own bag, thanks".

While in the subject of articles and recent trends, there was also an interesting piece on younger women wanting to have more access to their creative side. They're even forming their own WIs.

Clearly, the WI isn't all 'jam and Jerusalem'- never was, in fact - but they now launch serious campaigns on green issues eg. cutting down on needless packaging, on support for dairy farmers and how to reduce carbon emissions. More power to them!

What inspired our book - as is usually the case- it was a number of factors. In Noreen's house is a very old copy of Mrs Beeton's book. You know you can find such a fascinating mix of stuff in there...it's brilliant.

There are zillions of cooking and gardening books out there, but not many books of a wider range.

Then, we found out that there seemed to be only us at work who did things like make jam and make Christmas cakes. That's interesing. Of course people are capable of it...recipes are everywhere. But it's like we've forgotten the pleasure and the fun to be had out of doing things like this. we are too busy, busy, busy. Have we lost something?

Somehow, if the things we no longer do because we have no time, or because they seem like chores could becomne our hobbies and what we do for pleasure. Well, it seemed like an exciting prospect.

The shopping experiment continues...not the easiest thing to do,I have to say.
It's really dificult to buy fresh fish locally (apart from fish and chips from the local chippy) as there's no fish shop close by. Thinking about this reminded me that quite a number of years ago a fish van used to come to the village every Wednesday afternoon, much to my son's disappointment...not his favourite meal. The intention is to plan ahead for meals a bit more, picking up plenty of fresh produce when in town. We do have some really good bakers, butchers and greengrocers.

The hanging baskets are growing well now, but still in the greenhouse as we never feel confident that we'll be frost free until the end of May. I planted these up from plug plants and like to make mixed baskets with fuschias, trailing pelargoniums, petunias, bacopa and verbena. I've stopped using lobelia because it's the first plant that suffers if the baskets aren't watered enough and doesn't seem to recover. It looks horrible when it's all brown and dessicated.

Some pots have been filled with similar plants, but there are loads more to do. Quite a few of them are still outside and full of spring flowers that are now way past their best... these need emptying out. The bulbs from these will be planted in the garden. There's lots more groups of little tete-a--tete daffodils in the garden since I've been doing this.

Tonight we had the first picking from the seed trays of mixed salad leaves, with some olives, feta cheese and cherry tomatoes. The basil seeds have germinated and need potting on - thats a job I always enjoy.

We do not always have the time to do as we preach...but this weekend has been spent as "seasonally" as you can imagine. We had a rogation service here at the farm last night. Rogation has been adopted now by the Christian churches but rural areas always held their rituals and celebrations marking the start of the growting season.

It's heartening that there appears to be a new interest in shopping locally, and wanting to know a bit more about what we eat.

We both try to minimise the supermarket trips as much as possible...such a dispiriting and boring experience. It's strange to imagine how these huge stores were seen as the best thing ever just a few decades ago...our local butter market was very nearly pulled down to make way for one...right in the centre of this town...one of the few to retain a bit of intividuality in the days of the cloned high streets. It's great to shp in the butter market on Wednesdays Fridays and Saturdays. Apart from the brown paper bags and lack of dep

Hi Noreen

this is a test first post.

have fun
Tom