The Garden Can Wait

There’s a peace in knowing I don’t need to do everything at once anymore.

I used to leap into projects reactively — slapping decking down in survival mode, chasing instant progress, trying to outrun the discomfort of standing still. But now? I can feel a shift. I’ve slowed down enough to listen. And the answer that’s been coming up lately is simple:

The garden can wait.
The house comes first.


It’s not that the garden isn’t important — it is.
It’s a place I want to reclaim. A space that could become deeply nourishing, peaceful, and creative. But this time, I’m not just reacting. I’m building for the next 20 years, not just the next two weeks. And that means letting it marinate.

I want the plan to unfold gently. I want to consider the light, the flow, the dog, the fence, the way ivy grows and where I’ll hang the hammock. I want to build something that grows with me — not something I outgrow in a season.

So I’m giving myself permission to wait.


🏡 Focus Now: The House

Right now, the house is asking for my energy.
That’s where the next layer of groundedness will come from.
Not just in layout or aesthetics — but in how the space holds me, reflects me, and supports me day-to-day.

Once that’s anchored — once I feel at home in every corner — the garden will follow. Naturally. Organically. Almost like a plant taking root once the soil is ready.


🌿 The Garden Plan (for Spring 2026 and Beyond)

While I work on the house, the garden vision can simmer. And I’ll keep refining it as it does:

  • Build a light-filled, partially enclosed work area on the concrete base
  • Dismantle and reuse shed parts for storage integration
  • Reclaim the gravel path space with grass and low-maintenance planting
  • Replace fencing with modern strip panels and trellis for privacy
  • Grow ivy and vines to soften the space
  • Design raised planters to keep them dog-proof
  • Create a hammock or cozy seating zone tucked away in a sun trap
  • Install soft lighting for evenings — fairy lights, solar LEDs
  • Move the rainwater collector and re-integrate it into the structure

It doesn’t all need to happen at once. In fact, I don’t want it to.


🔨 Why This Time is Different

The biggest change isn’t the plan — it’s me.
I no longer need quick wins to feel good.
I trust the process. I trust myself.

I’ve already done the hardest parts:

  • Replacing the ancient paving with fresh concrete
  • Building things with limited resources and limited energy
  • Learning from what I rushed, and what I’d do differently

Now it’s about working with what I’ve got — not ripping everything out, but gently reshaping what’s already here. Honouring what served me, and letting it evolve with more care.

And I’m proud of that.


This space — both inside and out — is becoming my own.
It won’t happen overnight.
But it will happen.
Because I’m not rushing anymore.
I’m building a home.