My first season in this garden was the summer of 2012. It was a summer of misery as I watched some of my new plantings being destroyed by voles, forcing me to the annoying option of planting things in wire baskets. The second summer, 2013, it was box blight and chafer grubs that had me weeping on my way up the garden path.
But this year, I'm pleased to say, I finally feel that my little plot is beginning to look like a garden. Let's just hope I don't now have to move on again, as I've had to do so often in the past. (FYI - the wire baskets are almost a distant memory!)
Things are not looking very well-kempt at the moment, but who cares? With the hot autumn sun we've had, and so many colours to delight, I'm back doing early morning patrols in my dressing gown, just as I was in spring. Above are the blue flowers of Lycianthes rantonetii on our supper terrace, complimented by the colouring leaves of a rather ordinary hydrangea. Before we moved the last time, we were living in a small town in Alsace; bedding displays in French towns are generally wonderful. I made a series of early morning raids, armed with plastic bags, - et voila, blue flowers where you want them! I don't really like hydrangeas much, and so I was surprised to get so much pleasure from them in pots. These common pink mopheads were scorching to death on our hot slope and came to live here almost accidentally. Perhaps their finest hour? 
Nicotiana mutabilis 'Marshmallow (from Thompson & Morgan) has been a really pleasant surprise. And much larger than I expected! It seems almost to have its own luminous glow in the early evening, just as the light in the sky is fading - but thank goodness it's only an annual. I planted it, with Nicotiana sylvestris, to clothe the Long Border in late season and it's smothering everything else there. Especially the roses - my favorite trick, always followed (as night is day) by a season of worry when I notice what I've done! Unfortunately I am absolutely addicted to large, large plants.
Nicotianas and asters rule ok in the Long Border! Poor old rose 'Benjamin Britten' 
Probably the most exciting change in the garden has been Nick's re-siting of the steps that lead up to the Rose Walk (still a work in progress; that's my sweetie!) They were previously off-centre to the walk itself, but finally we have the beginnings of the lovely, straight formal lines that were supposed to characterise the top of the garden. The yews that will mark the edges of the new paths have taken off this summer - I've watered them a little less and they've found their feet. Let's hope winter wet doesn't drown them. Making a garden on a sharp slope is not for the faint-hearted. In our case all the required steps will be gradual additions over more years than I care to imagine.
The new position of the steps makes sense of the yew planting I did last year and better (albeit scruffy!) paths are starting to appear in the garden. Now I see where we're going ... 
Behold my two shabby potential box balls in the Rose Walk (above). They live, however, and I'm beginning to understand how to manage box blight in inauspicious weather (March and September are the worst months). I've high hopes for them in the future (there are six box in all, along the length of the walk). Perhaps I'll even manage to pave the path this winter - this kind of hairy planting definitely needs some order imposed on it, in my humble opinion. (Not to mention my very wet feet in winter!)The color in the Rose Walk is mostly achieved at the moment with Verbena bonariensis and the gray foliage and purple-blue flowers of Nepeta 'Six Hills Giant', which has been cut back and reflowered three times in the course of the summer. The bronze fennels are also growing, and flowering, out of their third haircut - seems to be a good way to manage them. I've hopes for the purples and reds of penstemons in future autumns, but at the moment the work of tender perennials is proving to much for me. Give me a couple of years.
Does anyone else own a garden that used to be well known locally? Sometimes I rue the day I fell for a sculptor's garden. It's an awful lot to live up to and depressing when people dismiss my work, saying, oh well, of course ... But the up side is that he's opened my eyes to the value of sculptural pieces in the garden. Sad that they are usually so expensive. The solution for us is that I'll be scanning antique and junk shops to find bits and pieces that might work - I even imagine creating my own work out of scrap metal. Above is a rather nice little chimney pot that I found in the attic. At least it's something - and I love the color against the box balls. 
I usually dismiss other people's ramblings about unseasonable flowers; every year is different, after all. But we actually had some irises flowering in August (admittedly, they were transplants last autumn). Here is a self-sown Salvia sclarea flowering much later than usual. It's sad that the salvia will have to be banished from the Rose Walk for the health of the roses. But other kinds(especially nemorosa types like 'Caradonna' and 'Mainacht') work fine and could be divided later on. 
We don't really have too much autumn color yet in the garden. But finally Nick understands (I think) why I didn't want to get rid of the purple berberis that caused him such pain when the Long Border wasn't dug or planted and he was strimming the rough weed growth. Their colours, with the asters, are enough to leave me with some warming memories by the time the gloomy days of November roll around. 
The Artemesia 'Powis Castle' have been amazing this year but, whoops, still haven't taken any cuttings. Probably a job for tomorrow and the heated propagator although I think it's too late. I've quite a few babies dotted around the garden, though, so perhaps it'll be sufficient to pray for a winter that doesn't go down below -10C? They are certainly adding something to the Mirror Garden where I'm trying to create a green and gray (with a dash of yellow) theme. Actually, further to the ex-sculptor owner/lover of this garden. To exorcise his friendly ghost (and get rid of the verbascum seedlings that germinated so well in the lawn after the drought), I'm seriously planning a full-scale knot garden up here. 
Incidentally, I see that more than a few people have visited this site in my recent long absence. Thanks for showing an interest! I don't know who you are, but someone clearly likes to glance at 'Garden Dreaming' from time to time! Greetings from a happy gardener who finally has something to be vaguely proud of ...
