I was sitting having my cup of coffee just now and was thinking a bit about kitchens. In the new age of modesty (sounds a bit friendlier than austerity, doesn’t it?) perhaps there’s something we can learn from my kitchen down here in Dorset.

There’s an old cupboard which has everything in it, probably made up by an estate joiner from salvaged doors judging by the look of things. I bought a beautiful oak dresser from a dealer on ebay (a bit risky, I guess, but it worked), and I found the glasses cupboard in a junk shop for £50. The pair of deep stainless steel sinks cost about £700 from GEC Anderson, and my builder made the cupboard below for about £500.

I used the cheapest 4″ square white tiles you can buy – essential that they are completely plain – some of them make the mistake of trying to look hand made tiles (can I make a confession – I don’t really like hand made tiles, and I really don’t like expensive tiles).

The draining racks are from Heals – a timeless design that I love.

And that is that. It all works beautifully. For about £2,000.

Rain clouds rolled through the valley at the end of a hot day. At dusk, the sky cleared and I went for a short walk through the village. Here are a few photographs of a quiet, beautiful evening.

It was a lovely weekend of friends down in Dorset, visits to Bridport Market, Forde Abbey, and lots of neighbours around for supper – where we enjoyed bowls of salad and the first new potatoes from my veg patch. Yes, it’s quite annoying to hear ‘there’s just nothing quite like fresh picked veg’ – but then when you do… you realise it is just a little bit true.

As spring slips into a beautiful summer, it may be worth remembering to order your tulips. I just discovered the amazing Rembrandt tulips from Thompson & Morgan:

And if, like me, you are in love with irises, you will perhaps be happy to hear that I have just ordered a mass of irises from the amazing and beautiful Wootens of Wenhaston website. Watch this space.

Well, enough of what almost sounds like gardeners question time. At supper last week, we all agreed that this programme is the single most nauseating production on whole of Radio 4… enough to make every single person in the room leap to the radio to turn it off. Oh dear. I better stop writing.

How nice to receive an email this morning from John and Rose Randle at the Whittington Press, announcing their handsomely designed new website, which you can link to here.  It is a fascinating read.

We love selling Whittington posters, books and epherema – and John’s son Patrick printed the most beautiful invitation and poster for my recent exhibition at RIBA.  

Pat and I are now collaborating on a rather exciting new project…. a letterpress printed ‘Health and Safety at Work’ poster, set as a typographic sample page – it will be one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen – a poster to be hidden in the back of the office kitchen no longer!  More details will follow in a few months, but do let me or Bridie know if you are interested and would like to know when it is ready…

My friend George Saumarez Smith (who I did the RIBA drawings with – see the posting in May) sent me this photograph of his fireplace at home in Winchester saying ‘a shame I don’t have a blog, to post this photo’.

Look at the soft light, the rose from the garden, a couple of wedgwood mugs and a pair of pressed glass candlesticks (i wonder where the candles came from?).  Most importantly, note the refracted reflection of Quinlan Terry’s remarkable linocut of Frog Meadow Dedham, in the mirror.

Our friend William wrote back saying, ‘I wouldn’t worry about not having a blog, I think they’re a bit naff”. Well, yes of course they are – but Will, I guess you are reading this… and secretly enjoying it…

I went for a little walk up to Amwell Street this evening. What was this vision of English country house planting on the corner of Lloyd Baker Street and Farringdon Road?

Not the double borders from Arley Hall or Rodmarton Manor, although the planting is just as beautiful. No, it’s the garden at the corner of Margery Street Estate. Total genius, I don’t know who has made this garden or how – but it’s completely amazing. Excuse the bad photos, taken on my mobile phone… and go and have a look if you can. 

Considering cities, as I just was, I had a long, happy think back about my years in New York. Too many friends and memories to write about just now, but one which I would like to share. For years I lived in a railroad apartment on the top floor of a six storey walk up, on King Street, just between the Village and Soho.  I don’t think I miss my six flights of stairs every morning and evening. But I do miss the view.

The apartment looked straight down 6th avenue to the Empire State Building. Here are a few photographs that I used to snap from time to time. That skyline still makes me draw breath.

I suddenly began to get a nasty feeling that the blog was all about a rural idyll. Believe me, if I lived in Dorset all the time, I would go mad. I am sure life is all about contrast. So I thought it might be nice to remind ourselves how much we love cities. Here are just a few random photos to show why.

It was strange to think that a few months ago my new veg patch was a field.

Yesterday evening, the sun shone particularly brightly as afternoon storm clouds cleared. There is something very satisfying for me about pattern making in a vegetable garden. In a month, the order will be overwhelmed with the chaos of growth, and I suspect baskets of help yourself veg will start arriving in the shop!

For now, don’t the rows of lettuces look good under the giant copper beech?

I was thinking at the weekend about King Penguins. If you don’t know these books, here are a few examples – ending with my very battered copy of Life in an English village, with beautiful lithographic illustrations by Bawden.

76 King Penguins were published between November 1939 and 1959. They range in subject from Wild Flowers of the Chalk (King Penguin 31) to Magic Books from Mexico (King Penguin 64).

The cover of each book fizzes and sparkles, compressing within its small frame some of the finest examples of illustration that I can think of. Isn’t it time for a new series?

I took the photos on the quilt my mum made me in the 70s. Check out those fabrics, is this not the coolest thing you’ve seen!