parterre | Life in the English Cotswolds

Earlier I wrote about the sadness felt within my family, as well as the wider community, at the closure of our small department store that bore the family name, Shortlands. It had spanned the generations for almost one hundred years, firstly as Langstons – my great-grandfather’s surname, and then, after one of his sales assistants married the boss’s daughter, renamed Arthur Shortland. Clever chap, my grandad! Later still, during my tenure, the ‘Arthur’ was dropped. I locked the doors for the final time thirty years ago this spring. Last month seemed an appropriate time to celebrate its history and tell the story, not just of our family connection, but also of the incredible people that worked there over the decades. It can be read in Part One by c lick ing on the link here. I found the response to that blog incredible with so many people contacting me through my website or social media. It was lovely, as well as humbling, to hear their memories and to know that Shortlands had not been forgotten after such a length of time. Although I gave a hint in the blog, I was also asked what have I been doing since 1994. In this post, Part Two, I bring the story up to the present date.

A reaction to my choice of careers that I receive quite regularly is one of surprise. Surprise that I once worked in the world of fashion, and wearing a suit and tie each day, or surprise that I am now working outdoors and wearing jeans and a t-shirt – although, I do have to look smarter on occasion [laughs]. When my retail career of twenty-five years ended, I was in my early forties and my future looked uncertain. I toyed with various career plans, none of which appealed very much. Unsure of what to do next, I decided to take a night class at our local agricultural college, Hall Place at Burchett’s Green. Little did I realise, on the evening of my enrolment, that I would soon be working at the Chelsea Flower Show, working on a gardening series for Channel 4 television or travelling to Hungary, only recently free from Russian occupation, on a horticultural study tour.

My visit to Hall Place had ended not with a night class but a two-year, full-time crammer course in Horticulture where I studied Landscape & Estate Management. Gardening had been the major hobby across the Shortland family for generations; I was the first in modern times to try and make a career of it. Knowing I still had a mortgage to pay, and therefore failure wasn’t an option, I studied hard in a way that I had never managed in my school days and came away with a good qualification. By then, I knew that I wanted to run gardens for large country estates. I had the good fortune to be offered, during my training, a work placement with the Getty family, then the wealthiest in the world. Their Head Gardener, Andrew Banbury, gave me various tasks and projects to carry out, frequently pushing me beyond my comfort zone. I have a lot to be grateful to Andrew for. When it was time for me to leave, I stepped straight into the role of managing gardens for a Swedish family who, again, were keen for me to develop further skills as well as their garden. Over the next few years, I had the opportunity to develop an arboretum, create a lake and, best of all, to manage and develop a one-acre walled kitchen garden.

*The new lake two years after construction*

The Millennium saw a change once again for I left the Chilterns and the area I had known all my life and moved to the Cotswolds, there to manage an historic, Italianate Garden, Kiddington Hall. This had new challenges but, although I enjoyed it enormously, the call of working for myself once again beckoned. In 2005 I set up a design and landscaping business which, I am glad to say, flourished; now I have virtually retired.

One of my last projects had been designing and overseeing a garden that has many elements to it: a 50 metre ha-ha, a cottage garden, formal lawns, terraces, topiary, wildflower meadows and kitchen garden, most of which have been created from scratch. As I watched the garden come to shape, with all the hard work being carried out by the owner’s own team of builders and gardeners, how grateful I was that I could now ‘pull the age card’ and let others do the physical tasks!

When I moved to the Cotswolds in 2001, for the first time in my life I was no longer ‘a local’ and knew no-one. Hearing that Oxfordshire was one of the few counties without a Gardens Trust and that one was being formed, I volunteered and for several years organised talks and visits to gardens which introduced me to many new people. One, hearing of my attempts at writing suggested I joined the local writers group. Feeling very out-of-place I did and before long the talk of ‘doing something big’ with books came about. From those very casual thoughts I found myself part of a small team that created the Chipping Norton Literary Festival. My title of Author, Agent and Publisher Liaison brought me into contact with many people in the literary world and soon I was commissioned by one to write a book on gardening. Three years later it was me being interviewed and giving talks on stage and the radio, a surreal experience.

*Being interviewed at the Chipping Norton Literary Festival*

Looking back over the past thirty years I realise just what a chance I took with my career choice and how fortunate I was for it to have ended well. It has taken me on the most incredible of journeys and given me the opportunity to meet/work with some very special people and places. It has had both tearful and joyful moments – it has also had bizarre and funny ones too: being invited to play in a ‘friendly’ cricket match only to find myself bowled out for two by the Captain of South Africa, or sharing an ice cream with American model, and ex-wife of Mick Jagger, Jerry Hall, these being just two of them. As with the shop, it has been a mix of celebration and sadness. I am so grateful that I have had the privilege of two careers both of which I can look back on with pleasure and a certain degree of pride.

Over the years I must have hand clipped many miles of box (in the USA, boxwood) hedging and once the knack is mastered it can be quite therapeutic. The main rule to follow is to remember that it has to be precise for there is nothing worse than a straight, level hedge that is clipped unevenly. It irritates the eye as much as a picture hanging crookedly on a wall.

Patience and plenty of time are key factors in ensuring straight lines

I can’t say that I feel quite the same about topiary. I can admire the craftsmanship that goes into producing weird and wonderful shapes but it is so easy, in a lapse of concentration to, say, cut the ear off a teddy bear or the beak off a peacock. As a consequence, I find it rather stressful. Cloud topiary is far more forgiving but, again, it doesn’t really “do it for me.”

You need even more patience to clip topiary

Perhaps the most rewarding design I have created was turning four rather scruffy and unbalanced squares of box into simple but elegant cubes. Yes, it was topiary but to misquote Star Trek “it’s topiary Jim, but…” To begin with, I was faced by the four squares each with a rather ugly and thorny shrub rose growing out of their centres. A consequence of this design was that the box couldn’t be clipped properly and neither could the rose be properly pruned.

The original design with roses always looked scruffy

To create the design the roses had first to be removed leaving a gaping hole in the centre of each square. Fortunately, I had some reasonably tall box plants elsewhere in the garden that I could dig up and replant. I soon discovered that it was impossible to plant them properly without damaging the existing plants. My gamble of just standing them on the earth and then throwing topsoil over them to trickle through the branches paid off. The soil covered the roots and probably much of the lower branches too*. Given a good watering, the plants thrived. Before trimming all the outer edges needed to be marked with string lines for accuracy in cutting.

Without strings for guidance clipping the box into perfect cubes would be almost impossible

I thought about all sorts of fancy designs for the tops of the cubes and, as is so often the case with design, I decided that simplicity was the key to a satisfactory outcome. Two cubes would have a raised circle and two a raised square. It was essential that these weren’t too high – I didn’t want them to look like a combination of wedding cakes and pimples! I found that it was impossible to mark these designs out and so they were created without guidelines, relying on my eye to tell me where and what to clip. By their second year of clipping they looked as if they had been there for ever.

Box hedge Clipping (10) Year 2 watermark

The design will look just as good in winter when highlighted by frost or snow

Box is such a versatile plant to use and it is well worth experimenting with them. Below are three photos of how I have used them: the first is the classic edging to a border; the second to bring focus to a set of garden steps; the third a mini-parterre to link two levels in a garden. Your garden doesn’t need to be huge or grand to use box in these ways – the parterre was suitably small scale for a tiny town garden. Have a go at creating your own box design – and if creating a topiary peacock is your thing, that’s fine with me – just don’t aske me to clip it!

The classic use for box – fronting a border

Giving focus to garden steps

Mini-parterre for a tiny garden

*This is also a good and easy way to create plenty of new plants for the buried stems will often send out roots. When they do they can be severed from the parent plant to be grown on elsewhere.