Back to Cot'sbrooke last week to haunt it once again. The occasion was the garden fete, held on the south lawn. Besides a man on stilts wearing gold lamé trousers, there was juggling and a be-boatered man strolling around with an accordian. The usual crowds gathered around the bric-a-brac. A wurlitzer at one end pumped out 'Nice Work If You Can Get It' while the quintet in the courtyard played Artie Shaw. And there were meringues with double cream.
What I really wanted to see though was the garden in high summer. Phylip Statner the head gardener is a genius and he always grows the latest It plants, while pretending that they just arrived there by chance. Dianthus carthusianorum above, is typical of this.
Folk at Home) and of course the canvas bags.