A Christmas Stocking for you. Plus: another fabulous rose, and why I can't quite look at amaryllis in the same way
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Hello on this winter’s morning. I’ve put together this post in the hope that, whether you have more or less time than usual, whether you’ve a quiet Christmas ahead or a busy one, there’ll be a little something in it for you:
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I’m hoping it isn’t tempting fate to say that it feels fairly quiet in the garden at the moment. I’m sweeping up the last of the leaves from the paths and leaving the leaves on the beds to act as a kind of mulch. There’s an early buddleia, and the first of the snowdrops has arrived to keep company with that very confused primrose. You have to look more closely at this time of year, but you’re definitely rewarded when you do:
I’ve had the busiest pre-Christmas week of my entire life but on 24th December, I plan to slow down. Ideally, by then, all the calendars from the first order will have been sent, wrapped, posted, and hopefully will not have been consumed by the postal system. The second tranche will go out after Christmas. Thank you for being so extraordinarily patient - your emails have been so gorgeous and funny. This entire situation is, frankly, classic me: have a bright idea, immediately act on it, assume the logistics will be simple and quick, and all the while ignore the small, insignificant detail that it is the week before Christmas.
What can I say? Optimistic impetuousness is how I run my life.
Talking about optimism, remember those forgotten amaryllis bulbs? Well, I’ve just arrived home to a huge surprise:
It turns out that this amaryllis only needed 19 days to flower - imagine just how desperate it must have been to get going…
However, there’s a problem
Up until this week, I have loved amaryllis. That great big fat bulb, the improbable speed at which the stem just shoots up, the way the whole thing opens into something so ridiculously glamorous. For years, amaryllis have signalled to me that it’s Christmas.
And then I watched Stranger Things.
I’m totally late to this programme. I’m not very good with TV shows about aliens as basically I just don’t believe in aliens and if you don’t believe in the central character, any chances of getting hooked on the programme are fairly slim. Anyway, after five years, I finally started to wonder what all the fuss about Stranger Things was, watched an episode, and, believe it or not, was hooked. So, my daughter challenged me to catch up with all the seasons so that we can watch the next episodes together on Boxing Day, and I can’t resist a challenge.
Somewhere in the middle of season one, the Demogorgon appeared, and my very first thought was: that’s an amaryllis.


That petal-headed thing and the way it opens. I can’t unsee it.
Now, I’m looking at this amaryllis in my house, along with its companions with their fattening buds all about to burst open, and there’s a tiny bit of me that’s thinking here it comes.
I am NOT going to let a Netflix monster turn the flower of my Christmases into the flower of my nightmares. But I have to admit there’s a wariness right now as I’m sitting writing to you in front of the fire. A flicker of something when I catch sight of it out of the corner of my eye.
Is it just me?
Before we dash headlong into the new year, I’ve been thinking about a couple of things:
What this year has taught me
I realise that pretty much every gardening year teaches me a lesson: this year, mine was about vegetables. I didn’t grow very many veg because I’d decided to give the space over to dahlias, and I also knew I’d be away over a pretty critical growing time in May. I thought I wouldn’t miss all those to-dos - the sowing, watering, thinning, pest patrol etc. But it turned out that I really did miss those to-dos, and I really missed those cut-and-come-again salad leaves, and those misshapen carrots, and so I’ve decided to grow more veg next year.
And see above re the amaryllis - it’s NEVER too late to plant bulbs.
I’d love to hear what you learned from the garden this year. Paid subscribers, keep an eye on the Chat where I’ll be opening up a thread for us so that we can share our wins from 2025.
If you’ve an hour free between now and January 1st, here’s how you could spend it:
Clean and oil your tools. A good brushing and wipe-down of blades makes for quite a mindful/mindless activity.
Have a quiet hour or so with your seedbox. What seeds do you still have? What’s possibly out of date? What do you actually want to grow next year?
Mulch one more time. Your perennials will definitely appreciate the extra cosiness.
You know that plant you keep drooling over in the brochures? Make a note of it, either to order for planting now or in spring, or to order the seeds now. If you’re thinking of a tree, read this first:
Sit outside for ten minutes. Even if it’s cold. The garden may seem bare, but the garden bones - or lack of bones - will be clear to you. Take time to mull it over, and maybe make a promise to yourself to notice things - even if it’s just one thing. You may even get a bit of birdsong to keep you company while you potter.
And if you’re brand new to gardening, you may like to start browsing through the How to Garden series. Seed-sowing, essential kit, soil - we have it covered.
A gift idea if you’re still looking
If there’s a gardener in your life - or you’re that gardener - a gift subscription to The Gardening Mind might be just the thing. And if you’re here and wondering what The Gardening Mind is, it’s basically this.
You can gift a subscription here
What’s coming in 2026
I’ve been planning, and I’m excited. Here’s a taste of what paid subscribers can expect next year:
The Cottage Garden Design course is continuing: in it, we’re looking at all the different aspects to making a garden that feels relaxed, on a human scale, not too ostentatious and that definitely doesn’t look designed. Here are some snippets from that course, and from others that are always running here in The Gardening Mind:
I’m also working on an exciting new series inspired by one of our conversations in the Chat - so I’ll be taking paid subscribers on a journey through inspiration.
Look out for the January live/zoom where I’ll be sharing that exciting news…. - paid members, you’ll receive the link a few days beforehand.
The Rose Advent Calendar - it’s Day 20 and we have another new entry
If you’ve been part of The Gardening Mind for a while, you’ll know just what an impact this rose made.
Until I used it at Chelsea, Rosa ‘Wild Rover’ was largely overlooked, which had me baffled, because its colouring is extraordinary. Smoky mauve flushed with violet, greyed undertones that colour-shift in different lights.
Sometimes the tones and hues seem to be a soft plum, yet at other times in other lights, there’s a touch of silvery lilac. Other times, it’s a squished strawberry. You can’t quite pin it down.
I’m always trying to push what I can do with colour, and this rose let me do that. The flowers are semi-double, loosely held, with enough space between them that you can really get in and appreciate the gorgeousness of each bloom. Golden stamens at the centre come as a bit of a surprise; they almost seem to temper that richness of petal colour.
R. ‘Wild Rover’ repeats well throughout the season, which makes it invaluable in terms of that Holy Grail of a reddish rose. And the habit is upright but relaxed, which means it works really well woven through mixed borders. And as for planting partners - I’d say where it really comes alive is amongst unexpected colours that actually, once you bring them together, seem a totally normal choice. You can find the planting partners I used here.
Whatever your plans, I’m hoping you’ve found something here to dig into. The courses run all the time - you can start them at any time, and then head over to the Chat to ask questions, or just chat! And if you’re new here, please do tell me what you think of it all so far - I’d love to hear.
That’s all for now. I hope your Christmas is as restful as you need it to be, and that you find just a few quiet moments in the garden.






















This was a lovely welcome at the start of a very, very busy day which was due to begin with the Christmas food shop. Though, naturally, I’m now already off my stride…
A quiet garden to observe sounds lovely. My garden does not feel at all quiet; lesson to self: don’t start landscaping jobs in the garden when your *actual* job is going to prevent you from finishing said jobs. My garden is quite literally a building site. One of those where the builders have downed tools and absconded. I really must have stern words with myself.
Rose ‘Wild Rover’ is exactly the rose I’ve been looking for. I didn’t know it until now, but it really is. An early Christmas present! Thank you.
Merry Christmas everybody.
Your posts are a complete salve in a troubled world. And you have turned me into a Captain Ahab of Rosa ‘Wild Rose’. One day, somewhere, I will find it in stock. Merry Christmas!