Wednesday, 21 January 2015


In a wet jasmine clad greenhouse a steamy cup of green tea...fragrant January at 
I like pouring your tea, lifting
the heavy pot, and tipping it up,
so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup,

Jasmine, Gunpowder, Assam, Earl Grey, Ceylon,
I love tea's names, which tea would you like? I say
but it's any tea for you, please, any time of day

Extract from "Tea" by Carol Ann Duffy
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 January...the cleansing, the cold, the cloudy, The threshold of the new...for clarity tea, I drink tea in comforting bucketloads. Cupping my hands and musing what might be...

Jeska at Lobster and Swan posted about a brilliant tea shop, VRAC, in Lewes here the teas are exquisite...I am longing to try the Primavera...
"An enchanting and invigorating blend of olive leaf, orange blossom and Spanish mountain thyme. From the same garden as the lemon verbena and harvested last month. Can’t get more vibrant than this!"

 - - - -
 Yes to Primavera! Spring!

I am smiling at myself, as, I looked back to last year 's posts, early February and there I was...Petersham Nursery! such a creature of ritual...

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

What's new?

Early last Spring, there was a house down a lane. A lovely old house whose timber frame creaked in the wind. A lovely old house full of nooks and curves, oak pegs and wobbly glass nestled into the hill. Such a friendly solid house but with a little dark kitchen...

We first viewed this house on a wet and windy November morning 5 years ago. Ellie Goulding was singing ..."This will always be my home..." as we turned into the drive and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. "I'll end my days here" I thought...then I shook myself, cursing my fairytale mind...To the left a little orchard, 6 or 7 fruit trees and a row of crab apples. At the corner an enormous fir tree, stories high. At the top of the drive a ramshackle group of derelict farm buildings. "I want it!" I mouthed to him as we stood in the cowshed with the roof leaking into puddles on the concrete floor looking out across the field we now call "Rounders".
"I think we should look at the house before we make any decisions" he said sternly
"Yes." I said, whilst imagining the apple blossom in jam jars on trestles inside the cowshed.

The house, well it's all we ever wanted. Oak beams, inglenook fireplaces, wonky windows...but light...all the rooms are light, walls full of leaded lights, an oriel window in the hall...but the kitchen...
the kitchen is small and dark, with a strangely positioned cat-slide roof with a velux window that hints at a beautiful view but actually is a blank stare of sky just above the horizon.
"We'll have to change the kitchen" I mutter, " Yes," he replied.
And so, last March, 4 years later, the digger rolled in and we began. I remember feeling excited and anxious. Having seen reels of Messrs. McCloud and Clarke I knew my naive exhilaration would soon become stress and ultimately tears, and I couldn't quite see the end but I dived in unabashed.

 I had thought I wouldn't write about the build here but my absence for long periods last year deserves some sort of explanation and now that we are almost finished it seems silly not to reference it at all.
And I can report my earlier statement about the stress and the tears was completely accurate, but the end has come and gone and I am writing this from the end of our longed for and much anticipated kitchen island!

This wonderful new space is populated by treasures collected from, inspired by and or made by many friends made and found here in the blogosphere and so my grateful thanks to :
Alastair Hendy at A G Hendy Home Store
Alex and Zoe at i gigi
Chloe and Harriet at Closet and Botts
Gilly at Woodlea Craft & Design
Pen at Cottage Industry
Polly at Folly&Glee
Penny at Le Petit Jardin
Rose at Butlers Emporioum
and last but not least the gorgeous kitchen itself, all hand made by the wonderful Nathan Levick at LevickJorgensen

To coin a very hackneyed phrase, building something is a journey and an education. I  loved sourcing reclaimed Tudor bricks, our old oak beam, limestone flags, marble, basalt etc, You discover how resilient you are, as despite your best efforts there are always delays and budgets are stretched beyond your wildest dreams.
 Our kitchen was finished on December 22nd and the home team rolled into town on 23rd!
And so at last, here we are!
Just you and me and the's quiet, no workmen...

Thursday, 1 January 2015

A pocket full of Rye...

All my undone actions wander
naked across the calendar

A band of skinny hunter-gatherers
blown snow scattered here and there

stumbling toward a future
folded in the New Year...

New Year makes me melancholy...I find myself wondering if I wrung enough out of the year that's dying. Did I try hard enough, did I appreciate enough...what did I learn? Luckily there is a Birthday to be celebrated in our house on New Year's Eve, thank goodness, as I am much more myself when there is love to be showered on beloveds.

We have been chasing the East Sussex coastline these last few days...low slung sun...shards of light...lungs filled with icy air...the Downs, the Marshes...It's become something of a tradition.

Resolutions? No...I simply want to "taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain..." SYLVIA PLATH

...And as for those undone actions I mentioned earlier...let me remedy one right now...
 a heartfelt THANKYOU for taking the time to read this and for your kindness in visiting The Lane in 2014.
- - -
I wish you peace and happiness for 2015*

Monday, 29 December 2014

Winter treasures

I should begin by offering you the heartiest of 
Seasons Greetings! 
I adore Christmas, that is I am in search of that feeling of wonder, shooting stars tingling somewhere below my ribcage. Presents are great, but "that" feeling is peculiar to Christmas and I look for ward to it year in year out. When I hear the first Christmas Carol in early December the taper is lit.Sitting on the top deck of a big red bus as dusk falls and Christmas lights sparkle into life. One Sunday morning earlier in December I was captivated by a short clip of a glowing fire...

...posted by the deliciously lovely Gil Fox, maker of beautiful hats, corsages, hair pins and fripperies. 
A couple of hours, a muddy dog walk and glorious bowl later...I arrive at Great Dixter Christmas Fair.
Inside the Yeoman's Hall is a cornucopia of loveliness Merchant and Mills, Persephone Books, Folk at Home, Gil Fox Hats, Freight by Helene Adamczewski, Martha and Ed's Kitchen, Warp and Weft Styling . I KNOW, so special, Gil's stand looked gorgeous, her beautiful colours against the wooden panelling.

Outside the garden looks magical, half asleep but abundant with hips and haws and hints of future blossom in fat buds.

I love being outside, and wondering what might lay inside, behind ivy smothered windows, fairytales begin to form in my mind.

Back home enjoying the spoils, deck the halls!

Tuesday, 18 November 2014


I do believe in an every day sort of magic--
The inexplicable connectedness
We sometimes experience
With places, people
Works of art and the like;
The eerie appropriateness
Of moments of synchronicity;
The whispered voice,
The hidden presence
When we think we're alone.
Charles De Lint

Sunday, 28 September 2014

Last of the summer wine

It has been a long generous summer and we have been glad of it, with much of the house exposed to the elements whilst we extend. It has been a long generous summer, so much so I have become suspicious of it. Like too much pudding its a tiny bit sickly and cloying.It is weighing heavy, time to move on. Perhaps I am simply describing my mood? I want the Autumn winds to blow...the leaves to turn and tumble and the last of the builders to trundle down the drive and disappear into the mist hanging on the hill.
September has been slow moving but never dull. Magpie flew off to the Faraways for three weeks and they seemed an eternity. I was reminded how much I love this eccentric Island of ours as the tears of relief rolled  the morning Scotland said we would not be parted. I managed to slide off to Norfolk for a weekend with my dearest girlfriends, we stood arm in arm in a cornfield watching fireworks fly into the pitch. And my heart was full when I saw a bowls match being played with great gusto between two teenage boys and two senior gentlemen, the respect shown to one another by both teams was joyful to watch.

Whilst I have been busy choosing Tudor bricks, Kent pegs and English oak the garden has relaxed into a semi wild haven, there are spiders webs and long tendrils of green curls wrapped around things they oughtn't. I should feel guilty about the wildness but instead I am enchanted by it. The drive is a builders yard and so the roses bolting across the weatherboard feel anarchic and I approve! And all the while the hydrangeas are quietly developing their Autumn colour palette.

seeds of love