Sowing the Seeds of Basil

I've found myself with a spring in my step and rather productive. Perhaps it's the long-awaited arrival of March. Could 2025 be the year of homegrown basil? Could my pesto be the besto?

We timed our evening walk perfectly to catch the sun setting over the tranquil Loch Awe.

This weekend has been one of those weekends which I have been eagerly anticipating for some time. There’s always a risk with those kinds of weekends. As the excitement builds, you can sometimes put too much pressure on trying to make everything Absolutely Perfect, and find that one way or another it doesn’t quite meet the mark.

Thankfully, I can confirm that hasn’t been the case. Not even close. I’ve been finding everything a wee bit overwhelming recently – I’ve taken too many things on, and struggle to find the adequate time to dedicate to each thing. This then plays on my mind, usually around 5 a.m. Of course, none of these things are life or death, so I really do need to get perspective on things (the problem with pesky perfectionism, right?), but still, having a long weekend with very few plans other catch-ups over food with good friends.

The sun sets on the working week

We popped a cheeky out-of-office on Thursday evening, then bundled the boys into the car and headed to a nearby track for their evening walk. As often happens here – and it’s one of the many treats of living in a tight-knit rural community – you bump into folks you know, and because it’s Argyll, everyone just blethers away, irrespective of whether you have somewhere to be or not. We bumped into some neighbours at the station, some pals who live nearby and even our Very Clever Joiner who was working up on a roof. I found the latter very disconcerting – as someone with a fear of heights, I felt that talking about the weather was very inappropriate, and all I wanted to do was shout warnings of ‘be careful up there, it looks mighty dangerous.’ Of course, he does it day in, day out, but I can’t help but worry. It’s the old Fire Marshall in me. Once you’ve been given a position of power within the realm of Health and Safety, you can’t shake the responsibility.

Anyway, a good 20-minutes later, we were slightly behind time, but we didn’t have anything to rush home for. The only thing is the loss of daylight is still a present dog-walk challenge. However, by the time we reached the top of the hill (or, the summit, as I like to call it to make me feel like I’ve bagged a big ‘un) we had, fortuitously, timed it perfectly for the sun setting. And it was magnificent. The perfect start to the long weekend.

The perfect backdrop for the evening walk. The boys *almost* looked at the camera.

“My Friend Gill”

Many of you, especially if you also follow me on Instagram, will know that my lovely friend Gill is a constant source of inspiration. We met at a charming little Christmas event here in Argyll at Christmas 2023. It was our very first daytrip out with the boys, and we were somewhat shell-shocked. Gill’s warmth and kindness radiated, as she welcomed us to the cosy wee gathering and even took some wonderful pictures of us with the boys which we will treasure. Since then, we’ve stated in touch and built up a very precious friendship.

Since then, we’ve spent a lot of time with Gill and George, and have been to their cosy, cocooning wee cottage many times. But, since our first visit, all I now say is “My friend Gill…” usually followed by things like “has a barometer, I must have a barometer” or “…ooh, that’s just like my friend Gill’s, I must have it” whenever we head around vintage interior shops. Paul doesn’t mind, I’m sure. But he knows if it is good enough for My Friend Gill, there’s probably no point in his asking “but what is it?” or “but do we really need it?” Questions like this only put his ride home at jeopardy. So, he smiles, nods, and just carries on, and I excitedly bundle whatever it might be under my arm and proudly head to the till.

We were invited over to their chocolate-box cottage to share lunch with her, and her husband George, for their wedding anniversary, which was a privilege. Gill is a passionate, and very talented, cook, so lunch was delicious. As is customary, I had three desserts, hoovering up everyone’s leftovers. I’ve no grace. As ever, the hours just melted away as we chatted, laughed, shared stories and talked the all-important topic of Annie Sloan paint colours. Gill and George are both artists, and I personally find their creativity and outlook on life, and the beautiful surroundings in which we live, awe-inspiring. Being in their home, surrounded by their beautiful artwork, and items they’ve carefully collated and curated over time, is such a calming experience, and you genuinely leave feeling recharged. And my eyes are forever darting around, taking in all the adroit little vignettes often embellished with dried flowers and twinkling lights, taking inspiration for Keeper’s Cottage. Because I am who I am, I am forever taking pictures, so with permission(!) I snapped a few little shots of their wonderful home – and beautiful wee Jack Russell, Gypsy. I wanted to share them with you here, because I think many of you will also find lots of inspiration from them too.

Gill’s beautiful home is the most tranquil, cosy and inspiring of spaces.

Pesto anyone?

As we tear the pages of the calendar off, welcoming the start of spring, and the time for new growth and anticipation, we headed out into the garden yesterday. I don’t know about you, but I get to this point each year and I just crave colour in the garden. So, we got ourselves some vibrant early-spring flowers to put into our pots on the front to give Keeper’s that little pop of cheer I always feel it so deserves. And we have decided to use the windowsills of the conservatory to get some seeds going, as we finish preparing our allotment (why haven’t I thought about doing this before?). So far, I’ve planted up a few pots of basil; a herb I hold up as the champion of all herbs. Italian food (there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for a good pizza!) is my go-to, so I am hoping that I can nurture a lovely collection of fresh basil that I can use this year, and hopefully cut back on supermarket stuff, which I find wilts before I have chance to get it home. Perhaps because it’s often smothered in plastic. Of course, I am very conscious I am a New Project Man and not a See-er Through-er Man, so the Basil of 2025 could quite easily become the Sourdough Starter of 2024 or the No Wine of 2023. Hopefully not, but I am carefully managing my own expectations.

Eagerly anticipating the start of a new growing season.

We are also mulling over the idea of biting the bullet and getting a greenhouse. We are trying to save up to convert our huge, eye-sore of a garage into a lovely ‘lodge’ so we have extra accommodation for friends and family coming to stay, and ideally if the stars align, a wee holiday home we can let out. We are also trying to fix Keeper’s Cottage up, and give it the treatment it deserves, but hasn’t received over the recent years. So, it feels a bit decadent using valuable resources on a greenhouse. But then, life’s too short and unpredictable. And if we can treat ourselves to a (probably once-in-a-lifetime) purchase that will bring joy and calm, then probably we should do it. Watch this space (p.s. we have investigated second-hand ones, and they’re not in abundance over here, and also, I don’t fancy dismantling and rebuilding one… we know our limitations and skills).

Anyway, I have rambled on quite enough. I am going to pour another coffee, have a spot of breakfast and then head back out into the garden and continue to get things ready for the growing season.

As ever, a huge thank you for taking the time out to read my rambles. I know it’s just a silly little blog, but in an utterly heartbreaking and desperate world, I just hope to carve out a few minutes of calm. I find the writing process cathartic. Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful Sunday you wonderful people, whatever you have planned.

G xx