A summer postcard...

Oh, go on then, why not make it two...

Dartmouth Castle, dating back to the 1380s.

... from stunning Dartmouth on the coast of Devon here in the UK. These photos are from a couple of years ago and I long to go back. Should you find yourselves anywhere in the area, I urge you to visit this gorgeous spot on the on the western bank of the estuary of the River Dart. Stay in Dartmouth or across the water in Kingswear and take the small ferry across to have dinner in Dartmouth, enjoying the sunset on the water. Great sea view walks in the area and for those longing for white sails, there is the annual Port of Dartmouth Royal Regatta. 

The countdown has started. Summer holidays, come, come!!!

Summer greetings,

Helena

Fairytale feathers...

It is quite a crazy creation, don't you think? (Good crazy!) This blue beauty, our 'town bird'. 

Yes, going for a stroll around our little town without stumbling over a peacock or five is actually quite an unusual thing. They live in the grounds of Corsham Court, the local Estate house, but often venture out into the streets, stopping for a casual rest on the side of the road, on top of a wall or in someone's garden... 

Even as I write this, just after midnight, I can hear them calling, in that "tooting" voice I have become so accustomed to, yet still find so peculiar. How can these, the prettiest of birds, make that noise? Fairytale birds who, you would think, ought to have vocal cords like silk to match their spectacular costume?

But don't get me wrong... I love these fancy feathers and their unusual way of communicating with the world. And I love stumbling on them on an almost daily basis, sometimes even in my road. Nature's own painter's masterpiece. The world's very real fantasy bird.

All the best,

Helena 

Pretty in pink...

Dear readers, 

Greetings from a dormant blog...!

It has been a while. A very long while...

Having just spent a snowy (!) Easter in Sweden, it was rather lovely to come back to a very pink world in our small town in the UK. Eager to enjoy the floral fiesta before the petals fall to the ground, I walked down to the local cricket field, stroking the soft, fluffy cherry blossoms as I walked underneath them, spotting at least two benches where I could see myself with a picnic basket...

With a head so full of craft ideas and a heart full of blog-longing, I would love to take a few trembling steps back into the blog world. Life tends to demand my attention to be directed elsewhere, but I might just try a gentle re-entry... Baby steps...

Wishing you all a colourful day!

Love, 

Helena

Why I think I might start drumming...

Every now and then I hear other parents tell me - not seldom without a poorly hidden despondency in their voices - that they have just bought a drum kit for their child, because said child really, really wants to become a drummer...

I have often wondered how I would react if one of my boys presented this idea to me...

Glorious, GLORIOUS part of this home, housing the indoor swimming pool.

I am not sure I would jump up and down with joy... 

I think I would rather spend the rest of the day trying to convince them that the instruments 

they are already playing are SO much better for them, for so many reasons... 

Noise level being one of them... 

However...

... having today fallen completely and irrevocably in love with this 

stunning house and its equally stunning gardens...

 I am beginning to think that this drumming business is not such a bad idea after all...

If this is what Nick Mason, former drummer in Pink Floyd, is able to call home (one of his homes) today 

(and yes, this is his home, on the outskirts of our little town)...

... I think my view of my boys potentially choosing a drumming career might just have changed dramatically...

In fact, I think I might give it a go myself!!!

Summer greetings to you all!

Helena

Trashy treasures and a woolly welcome...

Dearest blog readers,

Would you let me hug you, please? 

Hold you tight for a minute and tell you how lovely you are and how touched I was 

by your kind words after my modest blog come-back two weeks ago? 

I struggle to find the right words to describe how you made me feel. 

I feel I ought to say something profound and yet all that comes to mind, 

over and over again, is "you made my day". 

You. Made. My. Day.

During my blog silence, one of the things that kept me busy was moving in to this little 18th-century cottage, in a tiny hamlet a few minutes away from the "old" Swenglish Home. Full of good vibes, history, lady birds and spiders (!), this is a home where my compact living skills will be tested again and again...



However, my nose for recycling and turning trash into treasure has already proven intact, for example when I spotted these two rattan chairs being thrown away at the local recycling centre. "Stop, hold on! Surely you are not throwing those away?!" I bellowed at the men unloading the contents of their lorry into the skip. "Want them? They're yours!" they bellowed back, raising one or two eyebrows at the beaming Swede embracing their rubbish with such joy. Perhaps not my dream garden chairs, but they were free and they have already proven to be splendid seats for lunches in the sun.

The observant among you may have noticed that there seem to be two front doors to this little aged beauty. This is indeed true. In the old days, this used to be two cottages and as I sweat and fret over lack of storage space, I think of what it must have been like living here in those days, in only half of the cottage, and instantly I feel really blessed and grateful for the space that I have got!

The front door to the left in the photo above leads straight into the kitchen. This is a kitchen that, in the mouth of an over-eager estate agent might be described as "bijou", but which we all would know means "so tiny you can barely turn around". But do you know what? It also comes with this view:

 ... and that makes even washing up (my least favourite household chore) a joy!

And just like my woolly neighbour welcomed me into my new home,

let me welcome you to

 "The New Swenglish Home Blog"!

Helena

The winds are changing...

Today when I went for my morning walk, the fields were full of sheep, crows and autumn. The sheep, who usually greet me with cheerful baah-baahs, were surprisingly silent. Perhaps they thought that the croaking wall of sound from the black feathers was enough noise for a Sunday morning, perhaps they were simply contemplating the changing seasons...

And the seasons are definitely changing. A different wind tickled my temples today, luring various strands of hair out of my ponytail and playfully throwing them straight into my eyes. The ducks in the lake told me in no uncertain terms that they were not impressed by my lack of bread for them, and the skies looked at least fifty shades of grey...



The photos in today's post are from the pretty little village of Monkton Farleigh, just a few minutes drive from here. It is apparently known for its underground mines of Bath stone, which have been converted into one of the largest Ministry of Defence underground ammunition stores in the UK. To me, however, it is known for its beauty, its quintessentially English... well, Englishness!

It is with a spot of melancholy that I say goodbye to the glorious summer that seemed to last forever, but it is also with a smile that I greet autumn. The colours, the crisp air, the cosy nights in... bring it on!

Wishing you all the most wonderful autumn days!

Love, 

Helena

At last...

... a small sign of life ...!

Yes, I am indeed alive. And kicking. Mostly accidentally kicking sheep droppings on my many walks in the countryside here, where summer has been lingering and the air has had that lovely scent of promise, warm soil and cow dung. Well, the latter might not be my preferred perfume as such, but there is something so grounding, so wholesome about walking through agricultural land, that a whiff of fresh cow pat actually does add that je ne sais quoi that makes the picture complete somehow...

The summer of 2013 was glorious, the weather sensational and I simply could not bear to spend a minute more than necessary indoors. The blog was neglected and with life picking up speed again now, I dare not make any promises for regular posts anytime soon. But perhaps that is how it is sometimes, that one part of your life has to slow down in order to make way for other parts to evolve...? 

I hope you have all had a relaxing and soul-nurturing summer and that September has begun with smiles all around!

Love, 

Helena

Going bananas on flowers...

Magnolias.

Just taste the word for a moment. Magnoliolioliolias.

Everywhere I look, their pink or white upside down bud skirts are filling the sky, ready to explode into full bloom any second. Alas, there are no magnolia trees in our garden...

... but when I went for a walk this morning, 

I found myself in one of those situations that could have 

ended up being rather embarrassing ...

You know the ones where you just can't stop yourself, but h-a-v-e to lean so far over a wall just to photograph a bud and nearly end up doing a nose dive straight down into someone else's garden (in this case probably risking breaking your neck too!)? All in the name of... art. Ehm.

 

Speaking of art. Well, speaking perhaps rather of someone introducing a humorous little twist to their otherwise very traditional (at least externally), beautiful old cottage. I must have walked past this house in Lacock a hundred times, but not until last weekend did I notice this gentleman (?) peering out on passers-by from a small window just below the roof.

Few things are as cheerful as little flower faces stretching their necks high up towards the sky, showing off their splendid colours and singing the tunes of summer... Flowers are good for the soul, at least for mine, and if I could, I would wear flowers in my hair every day...!

 The world is turning greener by the minute and I L-O-V-E it!

... and with this rather incoherent, or shall we say 'eclectic' post, 

I would like to wish you all a sunny weekend with flowers lining your paths!

Helena

The Lost Gardens of Heligan II

Welcome to the Jungle...

...or the Lost Valley, the Melon Yard, the Sundial Garden, the Italian Garden, the Wishing Well...

or one of the other many, many lovely areas of The Lost Gardens of Heligan that bear names that speak to every pore of my green-curious being...!

The Jungle is a delightful oasis with several interconnected ponds over which small bridges and stepping stones allow you to explore the different views and see the sunlight filter through some stunning green ferns.

As for the rest of the gardens, yellow seemed to be the flavour of the month. Wherever we walked, we were greeted by sunny daffodils, and this particular little grouping of mossy pots caught my eye. So simple, yet the effect of many put together is so striking, I think.

OK, go on then, throw in a pond too, I can handle giving up "simple" for this...

In the woodland part of the gardens, there was more yellow happiness to enjoy and in fact, our whole Cornwall weekend was wrapped in yellow, as daffodils are cultivated - it seems - all over Cornwall. Wherever we drove, we came across rolling fields of these cheerful yellow faces and the rest of the family soon seemed a little fed up with my excitement about this - in their eyes - trivial fact...

Perhaps I am spoiled with too much of the beautiful sand-coloured Bath stone around where I live, but I can't help but  having a secret crush on old brownish red brick walls... 

When it comes to gardens, I sometimes think 'more is more', i e bring on flowers en masse! However, sometimes 'less is indeed more', and this simple trio of pots together with a metal bench, a yummy (and yes, slightly mossy!) brick wall with a few plants trying to grow out of the actual wall, well, it does it for me! 

OK then, perhaps just add one cushion. Or two. Ehm.

Cup of tea in the sun outside the greenhouse, anyone?

So, what about the name then, why The Lost Gardens of Heligan?

There is some interesting history to be found on their website, but I have here copied some facts from Wikipedia, as a shorter version for those of you who may not have the time to explore further right now.

"The gardens were created by members of the Cornish Tremayne family, over a period from the mid-18th century up to the beginning of the 20th century, and still form part of the family's Heligan estate. The gardens were neglected after the First World War, and restored only in the 1990s."

"Before the First World War  the garden required the services of 22 gardeners to maintain it, but that war lead to the deaths of no fewer than 16 of those gardners, and by 1916 the garden was being looked after by only 8 men. In the 1920s Jack Tremayne's love of Italy, which had earlier inspired the Italian Garden, led him to set up permanent home there, and lease out Heligan. The house was tenanted for most of the 20th century, used by the US Army during the Second World War, and then converted into flats and sold, without the gardens, in the 1970s. Against this background, the gardens fell into a serious state of neglect, and were lost to sight."

On their own website, The Lost Gardens of Heligan describe how they 'rediscovered' the gardens...

"Our discovery of a tiny room, buried under fallen masonry in the corner of one of the walled gardens, was to unlock the secret of their demise. A motto etched into the limestone walls in barely legible pencil still reads “Don’t come here to sleep or slumber” with the names of those who worked there signed under the date – August 1914. We were fired by a magnificent obsession to bring these once glorious gardens back to life in every sense and to tell, for the first time, not tales of lords and ladies but of those “ordinary” people who had made these gardens great, before departing for the Great War."

Call me an old romantic fool, but this tickles the - well - the old romantic fool in me!

Think bee hives are great but do not find them so pleasing on the eye? Try 'bee boles'! Before the development of modern bee hives, they were a practical way of keeping bees in many parts of Britain. You can read more about them here. 

Hm. Not so keen on keeping bees myself, but I would not mind a wall like this!

There we are. It is time to say goodbye to these lovely gardens for now, but I do hope I will be able to go back one day in summertime, when I hope to see the flower garden in full bloom, see if the melon yard is indeed bursting with juicy melons and explore all the bits we did not have time to see this time. And if I do, I will certainly bring my camera again!

Wishing you all a lovely weekend and 

thank you for visiting and leaving such lovely comments. 

You brighten my days!

Helena

The Lost Gardens of Heligan I

Did you guess it? 

Yes, I found them, The Lost Gardens of Heligan, and I am very glad I did!

Having long admired a photo in a friend's house of this fair lady, I was more than a little excited to finally get to meet her in person. On purchasing the tickets at the entrance, I was eager to find out immediately where to find her and asked the lady selling the tickets where I could find... 'eh, that woman who's lying down... you know... covered in green stuff... eh'. Yes, that was a memorable display of my eloquence... 

However, this particular ticket selling lady happened to also be a particularly kind and service-minded ticket selling lady, who seemed to be able to ignore the stuttering Swede's complete linguistic train wreck, smiled and said "Oh, you mean the Mud Maid!" and pointed her out on the map. 

"Mud Maid"?!?!? Not quite the pretty, dream-like name I had envisioned, but undeterred, I ushered my family in the direction of her restful spot.

Please click on the image if you want to see the whole image, without the top of her head missing...

And there she was.

As soon as I met this sleeping green beauty, I realised that names matter very little when you are as striking a  señorita as this. When I have seen pictures of her in the past, her arm has also been covered in moss or ivy, so I guess that perhaps she had had a small injury that had recently been seen to, and that the moss has yet to grow back. Which I do hope it does, as it now looks like she has gone for a rest, forgetting to take her dishwashing gloves off...

Rubber glove images aside, this is one of those views that is somehow not done justice on a two-dimensional screen. In real life, there is something very special about this wonderful lady, something so peaceful, so tranquil. Something that speaks to my love of unexpected and fun creations in and of nature itself. And the fact that she is in the wilder woodland part of this large and multidimensional garden makes it ten times more interesting than had she been a more "formal" green statue in the formal parts of the garden.

Oh dear, here am I rambling on. We have a lot more grounds to cover, so here we go!

Flowers. FLOWERS. 

How starved we are of some colourful growing power after a long winter, 

and how soul-nurturing they are!

Terrific tulips ready to explode into full tulip mood any day? Check. Symmetrical lines of terracotta pots creating a feature in itself? Check. Oh, and an old brick wall to offset the whole display in the best possible way, making the squeaky green leaves squeak in perfect harmony against the brownish red bricks. Yep, check that too.

Aaah.

Yes, and then there was that "small" greenhouse in the same walled garden. The kind of greenhouse that makes me want to hold a photo of it up to our tiny, tiny, decrepit old greenhouse in our garden and whisper "grow, grow, please will you grow into this?"...

Magnificent mini greenhouse, flowering (!) rhododendron, more tulip squeakiness and lots and lots of dovecotes - love them all!

I am not sure, but I think these are balls of box, and I am quite certain that this is the story of mummy box, daddy box and the three little box babies, all lined up to salute the clock tower of Heligan House (private) in the morning...

SO wonderful to see so many flowers out! 

I felt like I was drinking them all up with my eyes, eager to try to store them in my imaginary box of visual candy, ready to be brought out and enjoyed whenever a grey day comes along....

In the distance, you can see the sea - not exactly a painful view to put up with as you are strolling around the grounds...

Peek-a-boo to you too, Mr Giant's Head!

Did I mention how much I love a fun and creative garden?

This rather 'nosey' gentleman may be no Richard Gere,

 but he still won my heart and made me smile!

I am afraid it does not end here... 

so if you are up for another stroll around The Lost Gardens of Heligan, 

join me again in a few days...

Until then, to all of you mud maids and giants out there,

have a lovely day!

Helena