Sweet Home Alabama | Where the skies are so blue | Sweet Home Alabama | Lord, I'm comin' home to you!

A couple of weeks ago was Thanksgiving. It was a bit of a weird Thanksgiving for me because I found myself across the Atlantic ocean in the country the pilgrims first fled from...

While I was sitting on top of the hill watching the sun set over the ocean, I had a frantic urge to write. I needed to capture the methodical crash of the waves against the cliffs...

When I was 8 years old, I decided I was going to be a novelist. I think I heard about an 11 year old who wrote a series of novels about dragons and became a child prodigy. I remember thinking, "how hard can it be?"

Since I have returned from my weekend at Sandhill Farm, I have realized that the garden really is Rosemary herself. Honest, beautiful, always changing.

Hardly anyone has heard of Rousham. No dogs or children are allowed. It has no tea room or gift shop. All it has is a ticket machine, and for 5 pounds you can have one of the greatest gardens in the world...

One of the first questions I asked Row was if Wisley was considered London. She replied, "No... Surrey, darling!" With this answer I knew I would like where we were headed.

I am currently sitting on the front terrace of my cute little Air bnb watching the most incredible sunset over the 11th century church across the street. The past few days have been dreamy and a tad jet laggy...

"Let no one be discouraged by the thought of how much there is to learn. Looking back upon nearly thirty years of gardening..."

Ah. The reflecting pool. It's black, it's rectangular, and everyone seems to wonder how deep it actually is.