Show me a garden that's bursting into life

I have never been that keen on gardening, but it was always one of my dad's favourite things. The kids like it too, so maybe it's one of those things that skips a generation.

I could write lots of things about dad's allotment, but that's for another blog.

This blog is about my regret at not having a garden. When I was growing up, we lived at 8 Smallholdings, Woodhorn Demesne, Newbiggin by the Sea. I lived there until I was about 15. It had a large back garden, a cottage style front garden with a path down the middle and a tree for each of me, my brother and sister - plus one I planted from an apple seed when I was six, and which grew to be about 12 feet tall before being cut down by the ne owners a few years ago. The house also had a side drive long enough to ride a bike - or in my brother's case a motorbike - up and down.

I loved the garden and played in it a lot. There were two sheds and a garage, and at one time a large greenhouse too. And a shrubbery! But as lovely as it all was, I spent far more time over at the Poultrt Farm, where my friends Darren and Stephen had acres and acres of wonderful fields, long grass good for hiding and mazes, and large bushes in which to make camps. Fantastic. Looking back on it now, it was perfect - again another blog in that one. The point is at the time as a kid you just think that your own childhood is pretty typical - so as much as I enjoyed it I just assumed that most kids did this sort of thing.

When I got married, our first house had a long front garden, and to be honest with you it was a nuisance. We had no kids, and untamed growing plants and grass that we didn't hive the time or energy to deal with. We actually longed for a house without a garden.

Then we moved back to Newbiggin just before the kids started being born. And our present house, where we've been for 14 years now, has no front garden to speak of. There's a yard to the rear, but there isn't the private space that I wish my kids had. I love the house, but have for as long as we have been here wished for a garden.

Now the kids are growing up - 7, 10 and 12. They're starting to be more indepenent, and playing a bit further afield. And a garden doesn't seem the necessity it did when they were toddlers. But I'd still like one. When I'm on holiday at a cottage somewhere, one of my pleasures is to relax on a comfy chair in the garden and read. I wish I could do that at home.

But a garden requires gardening, and I'm probably not ready for that yet. I can't imagine living somewhere esle, but I hope that if we do move, the next house has a garden. Ready for my retirement, and the grandchildren.

Comments

[Liz Curtis]

I know what you mean. I like a little garden then I can sit in it, feel virtuous when I have worked in it, but the task doesn't become too onerous. You can come and sit in my garden anytime, there's a nice comfy bench!

[Ange]

How/where is Simon? Hope he's doing ok.

PS Enjoyed the performance on Saturday - you do a canny Snow Patrol!

[Rebecca]

We have had a garden for the majority of our lives, up until moving to Newbiggin and our last one was our shining glory. I do miss it, more for the evenings and socialising, but am glad to be opposite some greenery and foliage rather than another terrace of houses. Retirement, not thinking along those lines just yet, just trying to hang on to what we have got.