Potting Shed Diaries - The Story of a Garden Passed Down
Small garden diaries in Rural Devon
Late Spring in the Potting Shed: Stories from a Garden in Full Swing
Recently, life in the garden has been so full, and that’s precisely why this update is arriving a little later than usual. I’ve been busy.. elbows deep in compost, juggling seedlings, and soaking up those golden, early summer hours outdoors. Today, I’m feeling proud of what’s been achieved and reflective too: about where this garden came from and where it’s going next. I don’t think I’ve ever told its story quite like this before.
We have what I’d call an average (maybe slightly larger than average) back garden, but it’s an interesting one. When we moved in, we inherited a well-established space that had been left to grow wild. A jungle really. But one with treasures. A previous owner had planted an incredible array of shrubs and trees, rhododendrons, camellias, magnolias, a weeping pear tree, Japanese aralia, Mexican orange, and even an Indian bean tree. I often wish I could have met her. She’s since passed, but I’d love to know her inspiration. She possessed the rare gift of designing a garden where something was always in bloom, even in the depths of winter.
Since becoming the custodians of this space, we’ve stayed true to her vision while adding our touches, mostly through trial and error. It took a lot of stripping back and patient observation to learn what was growing, what needed help, and what might return. That second year here was key. Some plants bounced back; others didn’t. But slowly, we began to understand the rhythm of this garden.
Zones and New Additions
We’ve now divided the garden into distinct zones. A potting shed lives on the patio, alongside two large raised veg beds and a chicken coop squeezed in near the kids’ giant trampoline. Closer to the house, we uncovered a large tiered rockery, once totally hidden, and my husband built a lovely seating area adjacent to it. From the house, we can now gaze into the rockery and its trees from both our kitchen windows and our deck.
This month, I’ve focused on the veg beds, raising cucumbers and pumpkin seedlings, sowing salad crops, planting more perennials, and doing a big post-spring tidy-up. Let me take you through each section...
Rockery Area
The foxgloves are back, slowly blooming. My very technical method of growing them -shaking seed pods wildly has paid off, and we even have one on the second level of the rockery for the first time. I’ve planted our first agapanthus, tucked into the lower tier, and (somewhat haphazardly) trimmed back a mystery winter-flowering shrub to give it more light. Our hydrangeas, post-prune, aren’t showing as many buds yet, but I’m hopeful they’ll surprise me.
Other familiar friends are returning: the Russian sage by the fence, the echium’s blue buds, herbs from cuttings in terracotta pots, and strawberries tucked between them. Standing tall over it all is the weeping pear—its dramatic foliage filtering sunlight just enough to give the kids access to their beloved fort.
Pathway Border
Ah, the problem child of the garden. This border never quite feels “right.” I tweak, remove, and replace plants constantly, all while dodging our mischievous tortoise and three escape-artist hens. Right now, it’s scruffy, with bulb foliage still fading, but I’ve made notes for autumn, more bulbs, better flow. I’m thinking of dividing the bluebells from the front wall and planting some here.
Some Lady’s Mantle is thriving, and I’ve added nepeta, fennel, and a new phlox alongside the usual cosmos and calendulas. The garden arch is coming alive, surprisingly, the climbing hydrangea I planted last year has bloomed! (Monty Don said it could take years—I'll take the win.) The jasmine on the other side turned out to be a winter variety (oops), but it’s growing well. I debated moving it but something’s telling me to let it stay.
Veg Beds
We’ve had a brilliant harvest of winter lettuce. As it started to bolt, I pulled it, fed it to the animals, and sowed salad bowl seeds in its place. The first radishes are in, and a second sowing is imminent.
The broad beans are thriving and will soon hit the kitchen. I direct sowed peas, runner beans, and French beans in early May, worried I should have started them in modules. But they’re doing well! Last year’s carrots were a disaster, but I’ve planted new rows, along with the tiniest leek seedlings (which I regretted transplanting early, but they’re hanging on). I’m tempted not to thin the carrots after watching a program where a couple got fantastic, wonky results by just letting them be.
Tomatoes are coming on nicely, some heritage varieties, crimson crush, alicante, and sungold have been planted. They’ve needed minimal fuss so far. Near the beds are a couple of courgette plants and potato sacks nestled among blooming sage, veronicastrum, geums, and a leafy magnolia tree. The cold frame needs tending, leek seedlings are due for potting up. The cucumbers in the shed are still small; I may need to buy a few larger ones to speed things along.
We’re trying pumpkins in big trugs this year. Each of the kids has sown two Crown Prince seeds saved from last autumn’s successful harvest. They've also started a sunflower-growing competition, we’ll see who wins!
Nigella, cosmos, and larkspur seedlings are coming along slowly. But the calendulas are ready to go, and honestly, if I could only plant one annual, it would be them. I save the seeds every year; free sunshine in edible, cheerful form!
The last veg bed near the gate is full of onions and garlic planted last November, steadily growing and almost ready to harvest.
Front Garden and Containers
The sweet peas are thriving out front (safe from curious hens), and I’m snipping my first stems today! The totally tangerine geums have filled the gap after bulbs and primroses faded, and the roses are beginning to bloom in both front and back borders—deep reds, soft pinks, and a beautiful orange.
Container-wise, I’m still planning. I adored Rudbeckia last year, so I’ll hunt down a few again. Monty Don’s advice, “a pillar, a spiller, and a filler” will guide me. I may tuck in some leftover seedlings too.
A Pond and a Promise
The best addition this month has been our tiny pond, just a plastic trug filled with water, planted with a few pond plants (one doing especially well) and surrounded by cheerful alpines. A peaceful little feature that already feels like it’s always been there. If anything, it has given the birds somewhere to cool down in this warm spring.
I won’t cover what to sow or harvest here, and June’s edition is just around the corner and will include all your seasonal jobs. But thank you for sharing this journey with me - through foxgloves and tomatoes, chickens and chaos, and all the wild beauty in between.
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