For years my one interest in gardening
Is herbs and edible flowers. I have some success and some almighty failures, the majority of herbs are grown in pots, all requiring attention one pot at a time.

This morning in the heat I moved between pots of herbs gathering little bundles for drying. Sage from one container, lemon balm from another, rosemary beside the nasturtiums, calendula and violas gathered into small posies while fennel and chives spilled over the edges of baskets.
It is not a formal herb garden laid out in neat lines. It is a collection of pots, tubs and corners gathered over time, herbs moved about depending on weather, space and season. Some sit near the wall, some beside the house, others tucked into old containers or grouped together where the light catches them best.
The Herb Pots

Over the last few hours the baskets have begun to fill with drying herbs tied loosely with cord. Rosemary, hyssop, thyme, savory, sage and lemon balm now hang and spill together while flowers slowly fade in the warmth.

Thinking about an ointment for burns my grandmother use to make has awakened herbs other uses. Wild garlic salt is already prepared and honey waits for herbs and petals to steep into it.
There is something satisfying in handling herbs this way. The cutting, tying and drying of them feels practical rather than decorative. The scents rise stronger in the heat of the day, resin from rosemary, the softness of balm, the sharpness of sage and the warm dusty smell of drying herbs beginning to cure naturally in basket. The wilting and change of colour is necessary for use later.
The collection has slowly become something between a cottage garden and a small physic garden. Herbs for food sit beside herbs for salves, flowers for beauty beside leaves for ointments and salts. Calendula for balms, rosemary for sauces, balm for calming teas, wild garlic for salts and green sauces, lavender leaves for scent and strewing.
What interests me most is how connected these worlds once were. Kitchen herbs, healing herbs, flowers, wax, honey and household craft all belonged together. A basket of drying herbs beside a pot of balm or a jar of salt feels closer to ordinary daily life than elaborate historical recreations.

By the end of the week the herbs will have changed again. Some will dry fully, others will soften and curl in the heat, and the baskets will smell of rosemary, balm and sage. It already feels less like gardening and more like an old household practice returning quietly to life.
It’s easy gardening, a pot or two on a windowsill, old crate of everyday salad and herbs that can be picked and added to cooking, salads and teas. Old cures for that raspy cough, which lingers.

Salad at my fingertips
My oldest corner of pots has rushes, sallys, violas, wild garlic but sits quietly, awaiting a bit love and attention, new blooms and Summer colours.

Each pot manages to gather a layer of moss each year but that ok, we strip add more soil and hope for the best.
It’s manageable, my tidy begins every year around Easter, and takes a good while but it’s pot by pot, day by day. The pots work as there is garden takeover of mint or lemon balm.
I am waiting for elderflower to bloom so I can make a Summer cordial but that another story for another day.











































