FULL SUN

Seared salmon skin and sunscreen

Before I had experienced it, I thought that the optimum garden position was FULL SUN.

I think I can be forgiven for thinking so. After all, every plant label says some version of ‘this plant will only grow in FULL SUN’.

But the thing about gardening in full sun is this: there is no shade. It is just FULL SUN everywhere, and in every direction.

‘Oh dear God,’ I hear you thinking. Bear with me.

[ Ha-ha border, 18.06.2025 ]

I am so pale that in the depths of winter my skin is almost luminous. Like the reflective strips on a high-vis jacket. I only have to look at the sun sideways to be nicely seared and cooked through, like a salmon fillet.

The wonderful Caroline - the amazing apiarist who keeps the bees in the orchard - has just been by for a cuppa and a chat, and incredibly generously gave me a whole tray of veg seedlings, a mint, and an amazing, berry-covered bush. I feel so rich.

I also have a number of plants languishing in pots that want badly to have been planted out two weeks ago, but which also need beds to be built ready for them.

But it is so hot. And there is no shade.

It is not yet 11am and it is already hide-inside hot (22°c / 72°f). And it is so nice and cool inside my little stone barn.

[ Patio pots, 18.06.2025 ]

Speaking of which, Caroline told me over fresh lemon verbena tea that before its grand transformation into ‘Daisy Barn’, this building used to be a pig sty. I cannot tell you how resonant and appropriate it feels to hear that. I will henceforth be calling it by its rightful and historically accurate (& lets face it, currently accurate) name. I regret being so quick off the mark to get a ‘Daisy Barn’ sign made, but I was immediately sick of my parcels going awry.

Anyway. Yes, I do have a big floppy hat, a ‘F*** off I’m Gardening’ cap, factor 50 sunscreen and an annual mole check booked. But I have also been heavily indoctrinated by Big Skincare about what a grotesque, misshapen, sagging, age-spotted hagwitch I will be if I expose my pale, pale skin to the sun for even a moment. Thus I am conditioned to live now as the proverbial troll under the bridge, peeking out only to shout riddles at passersby: ‘No, this is Daisy Barn, Daisy House is over there. Didn’t you see the SMART NEW SIGN?

[ Left-side border, 18.06.2025 ]

But there is so much to do. The upsides of a garden in absolutely FULL SUN with not even a hint of relief from shade is that everything grows very fast. Thus the gardener must move with equivalent speed to prune, deadhead, plant out, pot on, and trim back for fear that looking away for even a moment will meaning turning back to a vast, overgrown jungle of parched overwhelm.

What I need is some kind of white linen shroud that will cover me from head to toe, and protect my skin from the sun’s brutal highs of 25°. Then again, gardening in white linen would not seem to me the most sensible thing. Especially given soil, and the visit yesterday afternoon from my youngest next door neighbour (aged 3) that involved being thoroughly watered with the hose (I can’t help myself he’s so gorgeous, he comes sprinting over shouting “LUUUUCCYYYYYYYYYY” and always wants to help with watering the blawers¹; “ME WANT TO WATER THE BLAWERS”).

[ Pale, pale skin, 18.06.2025 ]

Alternatively, I could buy one of those pop-up gazebos and move it around with me as I garden, as an alternative to having a keen suitor to hold a parasol over my dainty, hot, little head. Cash flow being what it is ahead of the wedding of the century next weekend, this solution is only practical in the medium term.

In the immediate term I need to make a decision. Plant out the veg and risk melanoma/malformed bog witch face, or sit quietly inside looking out like the kid signed off gym? Which of these is a greater risk to health and happiness?

While I think on that, please do send me your voicenotes for the first episode of your new favourite podcast - VOICENOTES - launching on Saturday! It may honestly peak with its first episode which is already shaping up to be SO GOOD. Just record a little audio something and send it to: horticulturalish@outlook.com.

1. Translation: flowers