A Quote by Deborah Moggach

I'm mad about gardening. I have an allotment on the other side of Hampstead Heath, and I keep three hens in my garden. — © Deborah Moggach
I'm mad about gardening. I have an allotment on the other side of Hampstead Heath, and I keep three hens in my garden.
My perfect day is to work incredibly well in the morning and write something wonderful, then take the dog for a walk and go for a swim in the ladies' ponds on Hampstead Heath or work in my allotment. Then I get tarted up in the evening and go out in London to dinner or the cinema.
One of my favourite places is Hampstead Heath. When I first moved to London, I lived in Highgate, and I would walk on the Heath at the weekends and go to the Kenwood House coffee shop.
Walking is my hobby, and I'm lucky that I live right on the edge of Hampstead Heath.
When I drop my son off at school, I love walking around the outskirts of Hampstead Heath.
Go to The Spaniards Inn on Hampstead Heath. It's an old-fashioned pub, and from there, you can look out over the London skyline.
One of the most delightful things about gardening is the freemasonry it gives with other gardeners, and the interest and pleasure all gardeners get by visiting other people's gardens. We all have a lot to learn and in every new garden there is a chance of finding inspiration - new flowers, different arrangement or fresh treatment for old subjects. Even if it is a garden you know by heart there are twelve months in the year and every month means a different garden, and the discovery of things unexpected all the rest of the year.
I'm the only black guy who lives in Hampstead. All my friends there are Jewish and you get some Arsenal players in Hampstead but they're French and don't go out much. So I stand out when I walk around. Everyone knows the 'Del Boy' in Hampstead.
I liked very much when we lived in Hampstead. We would go for walks on the Heath. I liked it better than living in the centre of town.
We have descended into the garden and caught three hundred slugs. How I love the mixture of the beautiful and the squalid in gardening. It makes it so lifelike.
I wanted to eat of the fruit of all the trees in the garden of the world… And so, indeed, I went out, and so I lived. My only mistake was that I confined myself so exclusively to the trees of what seemed to me the sun-lit side of the garden, and shunned the other side for its shadow and its gloom.
I live close to Hampstead Heath, so when I do have spare time, I like to raise my white blood cell count with a swim in the men's pond. It's an ambition of mine to swim in the ponds on every day of the year.
If the art of gardening is at last to turn back from her extravagances and rest with her other sisters, it is, above everything, necessary to have clearly before you what you require . . . It is certainly tasteless and inconsistent to desire to encompass the world with a garden-wall, but very practicable and reasonable to make a garden . . . into a characteristic whole to the eye, heart, and nderstanding alike.
Gardening as far as Gardening is Art, or entitled to that appellation, is a deviation from nature; for if the true taste consists, as many hold, in banishing every appearance of Art, or any traces of the footsteps of man, it would then be no longer a Garden.
I love going swimming. I spent a lot of time in North London in summer going to Hampstead Heath and swimming in the ponds there. It's so beautiful; we're so lucky to have that in London.
Will: I say we sell her to the Gypsies on Hampstead Heath. I hear they puchase spare women as well as hoses. Charlotte: Will, stop it. That's ridivulous. Will:You're right. They'd never buy her. Too scrawny.
Interesting, he later reflected, was perhaps not the correct word.By the time he and Henry arrived back at the house for their midday meal-a scrumptious bowl of hot, sticky porridge-he had mucked out the stable stalls, milked a cow, been pecked by three separate hens, weeded a vegetable garden, and fallen into a trough.
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