The Newsletter
Every two weeks, Rosie writes about what's flowering, what she's buying, and what she thinks you should notice. Honest opinions, seasonal obsessions, and the odd piece of folklore.
The one about patience, hellebores, and a £4 bunch from Tesco
Hello, February.
I know you're not everyone's favourite month. Too cold for optimism, too far from spring for real hope. But I've always had a soft spot for you, because February is when the garden starts keeping secrets.
Hellebores are the headline this month. If you haven't looked at yours lately — or if you've never grown them — do yourself a favour and get down to their level. Crouch. Tip the flower up. Look at the face. Those speckled, veined, hand-painted faces in colours that don't exist in any other season.
I planted my first hellebore eight years ago. It cost £12 from a garden centre, which felt extravagant at the time. It has flowered every single February since, without being asked, without being fed, without drama. That's about £1.50 a year for something that makes me stop and stand still in the frost. There aren't many investments that reliable.
But February isn't just hellebores. This month I want to champion the snowdrop — a flower so quiet and brave that most people walk straight past it. And I want to talk about something I feel strongly about: you don't need to spend money to have flowers in your house. A £4 bunch of chrysanthemums in a stoneware jug can change the mood of a Tuesday. I mean that.
This month's gallery is full of winter's quiet performers — the flowers that don't wait for applause. Have a wander through and see what catches your eye.
Until next time, Rosie
All Letters
The one about patience, hellebores, and a £4 bunch from Tesco
Hello, February.
I know you're not everyone's favourite month. Too cold for optimism, too far from spring for real hope. But I've always had a soft spot for you, because February is when the garden starts keeping secrets.
Hellebores are the headline this month. If you haven't looked at yours lately — or if you've never grown them — do yourself a favour and get down to their level. Crouch. Tip the flower up. Look at the face. Those speckled, veined, hand-painted faces in colours that don't exist in any other season.
I planted my first hellebore eight years ago. It cost £12 from a garden centre, which felt extravagant at the time. It has flowered every single February since, without being asked, without being fed, without drama. That's about £1.50 a year for something that makes me stop and stand still in the frost. There aren't many investments that reliable.
But February isn't just hellebores. This month I want to champion the snowdrop — a flower so quiet and brave that most people walk straight past it. And I want to talk about something I feel strongly about: you don't need to spend money to have flowers in your house. A £4 bunch of chrysanthemums in a stoneware jug can change the mood of a Tuesday. I mean that.
This month's gallery is full of winter's quiet performers — the flowers that don't wait for applause. Have a wander through and see what catches your eye.
Until next time, Rosie
The one where we start small and that's enough
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Rosie sends a letter every two weeks — seasonal flowers, honest opinions, the odd piece of folklore.