Home decorator Lara Winter is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on revamping a 200 year old cottage to make it right for modern family life. See the rest of her articles here.
Every year, without fail, I head into spring feeling quietly confident. “This is the year I’ll be organised. Thoughtful. Strategic, even. I’ll remember what I planted, where things are coming up, and I’ll definitely stay on top of everything.”
And then… within about a week, it all unravels. Because it turns out, there are a few things I forget every single year.
1. I forget how much compost I’ll need
I never buy enough. Not even close.
I’ll pick up a few bags thinking, that should do it, and then halfway through planting I’m scraping the bottom of the last one, realising I’ve messed up again. Which usually means you will find me digging holes somewhere behind the house, trying to get a bit of weed-free soil to fill the gaps.
Every. Single. Year.
You would think I’d learn, but no. I always underestimate just how much compost you get through when you’re topping up beds, planting new things, filling pots… it disappears alarmingly quickly.
What I’ve learned: Buy more than you think you need. Then add another bag. You will use it.
2. I forget what’s already underground
This one is particularly painful.
Every spring, I spot a gap in a flowerbed and think, perfect, I’ll just pop something in there. Out comes the trowel…and within seconds I hear that awful crunch. Yep. Straight through a bulb I’d completely forgotten about.
It’s like a slightly chaotic game of gardening roulette, except the bulbs never win.
What I’ve learned: If you planted bulbs in autumn, assume they are everywhere. That “empty” space probably isn’t empty.
3. I forget how expensive plants are
There’s always a moment where I wander into a garden centre, full of good intentions and then immediately start doing mental maths that I don’t enjoy.
How is one small plant…that much? I’d love to fill every bed in one go, but realistically, it adds up very quickly. So I’ve learned to be a bit more strategic. Supermarket plants, reduced sections, end-of-season bargains – that’s where you’ll find me. I recently found some beautiful terracotta pots for 50% off, which felt like a genuine win.
What I’ve learned: You don’t have to do it all at once. A garden can build slowly and bargains make it far more enjoyable.
4. I forget what’s a weed (and what isn’t)
This one is less “oops” and more…oh no.
At the start of the season, everything looks vaguely similar. Tiny green shoots popping up everywhere, all full of potential. Some of them are weeds. Some of them are things I planted. Some of them are self-seeded surprises.
Do I always know which is which? I absolutely do not. There have been multiple occasions where I’ve confidently cleared a patch, only to realise later that I’ve just removed something I actually wanted to keep.
What I’ve learned: If in doubt, wait. It’s much easier to pull something out later than it is to undo an over-enthusiastic clear-out.
5. I forget that it’s all a bit of a process
I think this might be the biggest one.
Every spring, I expect everything to happen quickly. For the garden to fill out, for the beds to look lush, for everything to just…come together.
But it never works like that. Some plants thrive, some don’t. Some areas look amazing, others feel a bit unfinished. And a lot of it is just figuring things out as you go.
Again and again.
The bit I’m trying to remember
Despite all of this – the compost shortages, the accidental bulb massacres, the mystery weeds – I still love this time of year.
Because there’s something quite reassuring about starting again. About not getting it perfectly right. About slowly building something that changes every year.
So yes, I’ll probably forget all of this again next spring. But maybe that’s part of the charm.
A slightly chaotic garden…for a slightly chaotic life.
