Secret Garden

Last night, I met the Boy for a drink and then we walked home together. We went via Moir Street in Mt Victoria (if you don't know Moir Street, I strongly recommend you visit it. I walk through there everyday and it's the highlight of my walk to work).

While we admired the tiny cute workers cottages with gardens and porches, we had a discussion about roses and the perfect garden in my ideal house. I am obsessed with roses - not those creepy chocolate box ones of which they have too many in the Lady Norwood Rose Garden at the Botanical Gardens, but climbing roses, pale pink scented ones. I like the word "Tea Rose" but tea roses themselves tend towards the exact kind of rose I don't like that much.

The garden: imagine pale pink scented climbing roses up and along the porch railings. A big wooden bench on the porch with lots of Liberty Print fabric cushions, where I could read or knit. Native trees and plants so we can be visited by tui and fantails. A pitcher of iced tea. Biscuits. (The smell of the Boy smoking freshly caught fish).

Also; French windows, net curtains, breezes that blow the curtains into the bedroom, wooden floors (underfloor insulation). Peonies. This as my soundtrack.