A walk around…Kew Gardens

I have mixed experiences, shall we say, of visiting Kew.

The first time I went, in 2001, I had a lovely day there with my mum, but the memory is tainted by the fact I got mugged the next day. The photos from our day at Kew are the last ones, unknowingly, I had of my nice burgundy bowling ball style handbag which I was about to be relieved of. Grrr.

The next time was a much bigger success – it was during an exhibition of work by Dale Chihuly, the glass sculptor, and his work was, to me, the perfect match for the setting. Elegant spirals and globes of coloured glass floating on the lake in front of the great Palm House was really quite special.

The most recent visits have had their up moments, but have been hampered by rain. We went in January, when everyone was on the verge of being ill, and it was a struggle to have the energy to do anything much. Then we went again at the start of the summer holidays, on a day which had started out lovely, but clouded over within minutes of getting in the car.

Now, there are plus points of a wet day at Kew – the greenhouses are good whatever the weather, and there is an acceptable indoor play area for children which tries to shoehorn in some plant facts, but is mostly just fun.

The other plus side is, in between the showers, you get to see everything looking lush and green with raindrops on roses everywhere you look.

The downside is, there is a lot of ground to cover between the different indoor areas, and surprisingly little tree cover along the main paths, as they are such broad walks with flower borders, the trees are set far back from the path.

Still, we found plenty to explore in the middle of the day before the rain set in – we went to the Hive, a light and sound installation which mimics the activity of bees.

We'd seen it back in January in a fairly dormant state, but now it was in full flow with lights flashing on and off continually, and very restful ambient music playing. If this is a bee's life, I like it.

(Photos show the exterior and interior of the Hive).

From there it's a short hop through the rain to the Princess of Wales greenhouse where the lily pads (see picture near the top) and a real actual iguana were the big draws.

Then, with rain getting harder, we slogged around the lake and through the Alpine garden to get to a toilet stop, (this is another pacing problem, toilets all seem rather awkwardly located, too close to each other and not very close to the big greenhouses).

Then on to the Palm House for a bit of respite from the cold rain – of course we didn't really dry off, just steamed in the humid air – and a final trek back to the car, wishing for a little sunshine so we could have stayed another hour.

Plenty of nice borders and details to snap on the way back, though….(love the giant ornamental thistles, I keep seeing these everywhere at the moment).

I cannot say these wet days out at Kew have been a disappointment when we have still managed to see and do so much, it is just a shame to leave with so much more unseen! I would love to take the children to the pagoda and the treetop walk, and down one of the long avenues which leads to the river, but it's just not doable on a wet day.

Plus the map indicates all sorts of hidden gardens and less well-visited areas I'd love to explore properly.

None of that matters to the children, of course; the indoor play and the very good outside playground next to it would be enough for them, but I hope they'll get more out of it as they get older. One of them may still have an inner botanist yearning to get out. Just a botanist that needs a good sunny day to really appreciate the best that Kew has to offer.

Summer snooping, and assorted chaos

Well, it’s been a funny couple of months. No photos from attractive country locations to share, because we’ve been minus one driving husband for the past 6 weeks, and minus the car for half of that too.

Way back in May some time (I think?) the Mr tripped over a kerb coming out of the station, and several painful hours later decided he’d better take it to A&E. It was apparently only a minor chip to the bone, so he was wearing a boot for 2 weeks. Fine. 

Two weeks later, they realised the X-ray had missed a more serious fracture and the boot would be on for another 4 weeks. Damn.

He was managing alright with the boot outdoors and hobbling round at home, commuting the shortest possible journey in terms of walking distance – bus to the damn Northern Line, my nemesis for many years, but driving was out of the question.

Then we came downstairs one morning to find we’d been burgled and the car had gone anyway – this was at the end of May. We were dazed, but relieved that more hadn’t been taken from the house (just laptops and iPads, all backed up so nothing personal lost – always back up, folks!) but getting a new car was going to be an almighty great hassle.

It was a week later – 1.30am on the night of Bank Holiday Monday, we had the call – Police, we’ve found your car, can we come and collect the spare key in 10 minutes so we can move it? To be woken in the night with amazingly good news was, well, good, but befuddling. I was very sleepy but remember insisting to the Mr ‘check before you open the door, check it really is a policeman’.

Waiting for forensics, and insurers to sort out changing the locks took another few weeks, but the car is back, the door which was forced has new bolts top and bottom and we are throughly relieved all round. 

It has felt very strange not zooming out and about at weekends as we are used to doing, but then it was also the season of birthday parties so we’ve had that to keep us busy, plus the local paddling pool and trips to Greenwich and the Horniman at half term.

I’ve had to fall back on my local patch for admiring flowers – a few favourite houses I like to pass by, and a few new spots as well.


These were spotted in the garden of flats just by Streatham Common – amazing pink daisies, the bees loved them, and the gorgeous colour combination of orange poppies with white nigella.


A view of my very favourite local garden (featured before, I’m sure) – house painted strawberry ice cream pink, which always reminds me of the ‘strawberry pink villa’ in My Family and Other Animals, although SE London does not resemble Corfu in many other ways, I imagine. 

The planting is always beautifully done in purples, reds, and pinks to complement  the house, and the big girl decided she loved the ‘umbrella flowers’ – striped petunias really do look a bit like beach parasols! So I hunted the local garden centres until I found a striped petunia for her. 

A riot of even more purples and pinks: hydrangea, geranium, hollyhocks, clematis. Particularly love that shade of hydrangea – none of mine are flowering yet and one of the front garden ones has barely got going this year at all. Like most of the front garden, it’s rather a mess, but that’s another story.


Something from my own garden I can be proud of, our lovely white rose in the back garden (sadly scentless, but otherwise one of my favourites). I spent a good half hour this morning dead-heading it, so it’s now looking much more sparse, but it always grows back so vigorously I never worry too much about it. 

On the other hand, one of the other roses which was still flowering, I noticed was looking a bit bare in places – so I looked a bit closer…


See those little critters? Here’s a closer look.


It must be the Very Hungry Caterpillar and his friends! Luckily we have enough rose leaves to go round, and we are enjoying doing 30 Days Wild, so this was our ‘wild thing’ for the day. Quite thrilling for small children and me too.


The car/broken foot curfew is almost up, but next few weekends are busy with the school fair and other fixtures – Lambeth Country Show of course – but we will be back to days in the country soon, I hope.

The Battle of the Bluebells

You can keep your Wars of the Roses, it’s all been about the battle of the bluebells here. 

I’ve seen plenty of garden bluebells everywhere (more on them, later), but it seems like years since I’d seen proper swathes of woodland bluebells and I longed for them – in spite of the rather muddy time we’d had seeing snowdrops, I didn’t want to miss out on bluebells this year.

So, on an unexpectedly warm day we set off to Emmetts Garden in Kent, described as one of the best places to see bluebells locally. It is a gorgeous spot on the downs – the description of a ‘hillside garden’ doesn’t do it justice, more of a rolling downland meadow and woodland glade which just happens to have a formal garden attached to it too.

We wandered through the shrubberies and past empty rose gardens and rockeries that were clearly not at their best yet – all this the preamble to the main event. 

The bluebell woods were on the far side of the hill, below the tea room and picnic area, and approaching them from above, the full glory wasn’t immediately apparent, then we rounded a corner and finally got the full intensity of blueness I’d been craving. 


Knowing that blue is generally thought to be a calming colour, I wondered if that was why people love bluebell woods so much – a small patch of bluebells in a garden or a roadside may be pleasing, but the full visual effect of blue stretching as far as the eye can see must have a positive effect on the brain, surely? 


The only place I can remember which delivers that same intensity of blueness was the Sanctuary of Dom Bosco, an amazing church in Brasilia with blue stained glass floor to ceiling – a rather exotic comparison, I’ll grant you, but if you like blue as much as I like blue, well, you’d like it there, trust me.

The woods were not only full of blue, though: starry little wood anemone peeped through the bluebells, and here and there we spotted white bluebells, which I’d never seen before – 


The bluebell walk finished at a viewpoint where you could suddenly, out of nowhere, see for miles – here we sat down, with the sun on our faces, and soaked it all in. 

There was a longer trail from that point down into the woods below, and the temptation to just keep walking on and on into the trees was very strong, but on the other hand, if we went back to the cafe we could have tea and cake.


When we got home, I went out to the garden to photograph my own bluebells, and here you can really see the difference between the British (above) and Spanish (below) varieties.


The British flower is a much deeper blue, and bends over daintily – and what the picture can’t capture (and I had quite forgotten) is the heady, intense smell of them. 

The Spanish garden variety are much paler, with more individual florets on the upright flower stalk, and have no scent. In the battle of the bluebells, there’s no comparison, is there, really? Nothing beats that lovely, deep, rich blue, and I’m so glad I had the chance to see it this year.

A couple of weeks on, our garden bluebells are all over, and tonight I had the joyless task of (yet again) pulling up every single one before they become brown mush. 

If I can face it, next week’s task is to dig out as many bulbs as I can to clear some space for new plants, but I know the Spanish bluebells will march on, and maybe increase their territory next year. I will just have to keep going back to the woods to get my fix of the real thing, then.

Let it snow, let it sleet, let it hail…

This weekend, it felt like a door opened just a crack and we got a tiny glimpse of Spring, what a real spring day feels like. I actually sat out in the sunshine for two consecutive days. I can’t think when that last happened!

Up until Saturday, the week had delivered snow and sleet on Tuesday, hail on Wednesday and thunder and lightning too, then more hail on Friday. And yet, thanks in part to all the rain (and the lack of really cold weather, despite the snow flurries), Spring marches on – the leaves are out, flowers are blooming, we’ve seen birds gathering nesting material. It just hasn’t felt like Spring up until now.

On one of the sunny early April days which was much colder and windier than it ought to have been, I had a chance to revisit one of my favourite local open gardens. The site is on one of the loveliest roads in Herne Hill, in fact the very one I walked up many years ago to visit the Velodrome for the first time – and thought to myself ‘some day I’d like to live round here’. 

Well, I never made it as far as moving to Herne Hill, but I’m close enough, and it is certainly a pleasure to be able to return to this particular garden. 


It has a fantastic wild area at the bottom – great inspiration for how my birch tree might look in a few years, if I can persuade anything to grow under it!


And a very palatial looking bug hotel, with child beside it for scale.  This puts me to shame as I have made no attempt to create a bug hotel at home and there is no excuse, I’m sure I can find some way of cobbling one together.


In terms of plant inspiration I was spoilt for choice – gorgeous Yellow Archangel (top) with its deceptively nettle-like leaves, but so much more glamorous than the ordinary varieties of dead-nettle, the dainty fritillaries (bottom) which are probably far too delicate to survive in my garden right now, and in the middle, something I have discovered the name of but promptly forgotten: forget-me-not flowers but with the lovely heart-shaped leaves, very striking and definitely a plant that’s going on my list for the shady garden patch. (They have it in the local garden centre, so at some point I will buy some and hopefully remember the name….).


The garden also has lovely sculptural features – box balls next to a bird bath on a plinth, a rusty wire mesh fox (does it keep away the real ones I wonder?) and stone birds next to, um, a giant egg. 

I also really liked the use of wood and gravel here – another idea I’ve been mulling over is whether to put more gravel around some of my more drought-ridden areas, to try and keep weeds down and help disguise some of the bare patches of soil that plague me.

I have been keeping an eye out for other pretty things, too, and it is possible, if you look only at the pictures taken on nice sunny days, to imagine we really have had a spring after all. 

We had a sunny (but briskly cold) afternoon at the Horniman museum, and I was keen to see how their formal beds had been planted this year – and I wasn’t disappointed! 

The whole series of beds had been planted with pink, blue AND white forget-me-nots (White ones! Who knew?), with dark burgundy tulips dotted like sentinels throughout. 

The effect was charming and haphazard up close, but a seriously spectacular view when you look down the full length of the beds – patchwork of flowers so dense you could hardly see a bare space. And whilst tulips have never been a real favourite of mine, here they add some height and drama to an otherwise very pretty, delicate forget-me-not patchwork.

If the good weather is here to stay for a while, I will keep my eyes peeled for more inspiration – in the mean time, this lot have given me plenty of ideas to be going on with!

A walk around…Helmingham Hall

As promised in the last blog, there was one more place we visited in Suffolk which deserved a blog entry all of its own – a garden so stunning I am still not quite sure it was real.

Just a few miles from where we were staying is Helmingham Hall. The house itself is an impressive moated Elizabethan pile, but is not open to visitors – in any case, the Chelsea-medal winning gardens are what people (by people, meaning ‘me’) come to see. 

  
You approach the main garden down an avenue of fruit trees, and then wind through a wild flower meadow and woodland area before crossing a bridge into the walled garden – all the while getting tantalising glimpses, Secret Garden-style, of the treasures within. 

  
It was well worth the wait to see what was inside….

   
   
What seemed like miles and miles of borders, all fully packed from front to back with flowers in bloom. Not a weed in sight, not a plant out of place, everything so tightly packed you could barely see a patch of soil.

The amount of effort that goes into making gardens like this, I can scarcely imagine. The planning required to get the right heights of plants in the right places, the seasonal planting, the colour schemes, just seems exhausting to me – who can’t even keep one raised bed consistently planted and looking anything other than patchy and shambolic!

Of course this garden has its peaks and troughs too – the wild flower meadow was past its best when we saw it, and the sweet peas were all but done, but we saw the ‘late summer’ borders just coming to their peak.

  
This border particularly impressed me with its composition – the contrast of light and dark foliage, the ivy providing a uniform backdrop to the sharp oranges and yellows of the flowers – but all offset by the graceful verbena providing height and a restful purple hint after all that citrus.

Now, I’d never think of planting a bed like this. I don’t know my shrubs well enough to know what background foliage to put in, I prefer blues and purples and pinks so I avoid yellow and orange flowers – so I miss out on the striking contrasts a display like this can give you. 

Well obviously I don’t also have years of experience or a fleet of gardeners helping me, either, but this picture does give me some sense of what I’d like my raised bed to be like – lots of different shapes and heights, no gaps or bare earth, lots of contrast, a sense of there being waves of colour laid over darker foliage. Well, it’s something to work towards.

Besides the borders, there were avenues of runner beans and squash, lavender in full bloom, beds of globe artichoke, sweet corn and courgette, and lovely flowers everywhere you looked.

    

  

   
 
Lots of mental notes of plants I’d like in the garden one day…alliums, more poppies, ornamental thistles…plus, the bare bones of the garden structure itself was beautiful, too – the gates, the statues and urns all looking exactly the part.

   
    
 
There was even space for a little topiary of the less conventional kind.

   
 
On the other side of the house was a smaller garden holding a traditional knot garden, mainly planted with herbs.

 

There was also, I was relieved to see, what appeared to be a bit of private fenced-off garden for the family to be away from prying eyes (where else to put your swing ball or hang out your washing?)

I can’t imagine what it’s like to have this as your real, actual everyday garden – I wonder if the owners do go and sit in the main walled garden when all the visitors are gone, or do they see it as more of a stage set for the glorious flowers, rather than somewhere to actually live in, to belong?  
Truth be told, I don’t spend much time sitting in my garden, either – sitting in the house looking at it, yes, but not in it. That is something I’d like to change next year if we can sort some better garden furniture.

I would recommend Helmingham to anyone who even slightly likes gardens – though be prepared to come away with serious envy of all the plants you’ll never have time or space to grow.
Plus the pretty, rather shabby  stables courtyard cafe gave us a chance to watch baby house martins being fed in their nests while we ate our lunch – how lovely is that? 

I’ll be making a plan to come back to Helmingham one day -maybe next time a guided tour….

  

A walk around Polesden Lacey

Our efforts to find another buggy friendly walk took us on a rare spring day, that actually felt springlike, to Polesden Lacey, a National Trust property I had never heard of before. It was in the direction of Box Hill, so having been there and knowing how lovely the scenery was round there, I was keen to explore more. 

As I grew up in flat-as-a-pancake Essex, I am always surprised to find rolling, proper hilly countryside only a short drive from London – there is even the odd bit of heathland in *Croydon*! The countryside round the village I grew up in has its own charm and will always be dear to me, but nothing can quite beat the drama and beauty of the North Downs (by Home Counties standards at any rate) – and Polesden Lacey turned out to be a bit of a hidden gem.

  

The house itself is probably not remembered for any great architectural significance, nor is it particularly ancient, and the historical connections are mainly of interest due to the Royal Family (George VI and the Queen Mother honeymooned there, but no great scandal or drama associated with the place as far as I could see). 

It’s the setting, on the edge of a valley, which really makes Polesden Lacey special. What struck me first as unusual was that the main facade of the house looked out along the gardens rather than down into the valley – the ground slopes away so steeply to one side that the gardens are mainly in front and behind the house, creating a very linear structure. This lends itself nicely to creating various garden ‘zones’, some more wild and some more formal, with hedging and walls to divide up the different areas.

  

The buggy-friendly walk takes you along a sandy track away from the house, past a woodland play area, (nicely done, but not wildly adventurous for our mountain goat of a girl) and then doubles back on itself to take in the Long Walk, a level terrace path hidden behind a tall hedge which gives you amazing views across the valley. (See above)

Of course the land across the valley is all part of the estate so it was a beautifully managed vista with what looked like a Wealden-style rustic cottage folly nestled among the trees, a farm in the valley bottom and sheep dotting the landscape in all directions. It was all too perfect not to feel like you were being stage-managed, but when the views are this lovely, who cares, frankly?

There were several longer trails that took you down into the valley – even one that would have been accessible for buggies and wheelchairs assuming you had enough spare hands to help open gates – but we decided to stay inside the grounds themselves, and went on next to the kitchen gardens.

 

This was a scene straight out of Mr MacGregor’s garden, from the rows of lettuces and radishes to the potting shed – the perfect place for Peter Rabbit to hide. The gardens actually grow food that is used in the kitchens and cut flowers for displays in the house – not only sustainable and zero food miles, but actually using the gardens for the purpose they were designed for – awesome and very sensible at the same time.

The other decorative walled gardens weren’t quite at their best when we visited – no roses out yet – but there was a great wilderness area to explore, across a little footbridge from the main garden, and a rockery that was full of interest for a 3-year-old, with little paths winding up and down it to have a proper explore, and lots of ferns and alpine flowers to admire.
  

After lunch, we went inside the house, which had not nearly so much to amuse a small child, although there was a suitcase of costumes to ‘dress up like an Edwardian child’ and a few other hands-on exhibits – more of this, please, is what I’d say! The lavish interior of the house – gold, embossed wallpaper, Faberge, more gold – is a sharp contrast to the more simple pleasures of the gardens outside, but it was certainly worth looking around (and more of the interior will be opened up in future years, they say).

There was a good bit more to the estate than this – an orchard, another woodland area and huge open lawns where families were picnicking, plus the cafe and enormous gift shop with its ubiquitous plant sale. (That is, plant sales seem to be ubiquitous at National Trust properties now, and I ain’t complaining, I thoroughly approve!)

I hadn’t been to a National Trust stately pile for years, I don’t think, and I’m sure this one during the week is full of coach parties trekking round the house- but it was lovely at a weekend to see it full of families enjoying the gardens too. 

Best of all, I discovered later that the cottage across the valley is actually a youth hostel, Tanner’s Hatch. It is inaccessible by car, so you have to walk or cycle from Box Hill station, or leave your car in a lay-by up the lane. You can cook outside on a fire pit, and with no permanent warden I reckon if you struck lucky you could have the place to yourself. 

We aren’t yet at the stage of planning a weekend away without children, but when we do, it’s this place I want to go to, it’s gone straight to the top of my list of most-wanted places to stay. We will definitely be back!

The Great Project – half way point

We have just reached the end of week 7 of our extension. July seems a very, very long time ago, back when we had a working kitchen and a washing machine and a house not covered in layers of dust. 7 weeks since I was last able to get into my garden and do some proper weeding and pruning, or even just sit in the sunshine and enjoy my garden.

There have been some blips along the way – we learned that living without a boiler and only having an immersion heater does not mean guaranteed hot water on tap; the plumber who assured us immersions could be left on all the time was proved wrong after about 4 days.

Then there was the issue of trying to fit a skip and a portaloo on our drive, meaning all the useful stuff in the garage we thought we’d be able to get at, we can’t – until the garage door button was accidentally pressed, it opened against the portaloo and we now have a buckled garage door. Oops. (Here’s a picture of the skip being emptied, earlier this week).

Skip in action!

Skip in action!

The actual new room itself is starting to take shape – roof and three Velux windows, electrics going in, and walls for the cloakroom and teeny tiny utility room (more like a utility corridor with an alcove) are going up.

New room

New room – kitchen window on left, bi-fold door on right

There are two big things we’re waiting on now, one is the kitchen window and bi-fold doors which have to come from (where else?) Germany, and although we were given a 6 week lead time, we are told they’re already ahead of schedule (hurrah!). My well-worn joke is that wouldn’t it be great if the big truck arrived from Germany and we found we’d actually had a Huf Haus delivered? I can dream, anyway…

Then we are also waiting on the kitchen itself. This is also a 6 week wait, more or less, and whilst the room is beginning to feel like a real room, I can’t quite visualise the kitchen in the space we’ve created, and am still slightly worried there won’t be room for everything. We’ve already lost the space where the boiler was going to go, and it’s been relegated to the utility, but thankfully this does mean we gain a cupboard.

In lieu of being able to do anything really constructive with the kitchen yet, we have been planning out the rest of the room in our heads. The two things we decided we really needed were a new dining table and chairs – the old ones are well past their best – and a new sofa, as we’ll have space for a bigger one and my well-loved but battered red Sofa Workshop model won’t really suit the colours in the new room.

We are both keen on having a corner sofa, for the full relaxation potential of sitting overlooking the garden with feet up and a cup of tea (though which adult exactly gets the prime feet-up position is still up for debate…) and we liked the Finlay sofa from John Lewis…until we saw the price, so we are now on the look out for a cheaper alternative to that, although of course the other key criteria is that it must be comfortable.

I was amazed to discover when plonking down on many, many sofas, how some of them are far too soft – just like Mummy Bear’s bed, you sink down and wonder how you are ever going to get up again. On the other hand, neither do you want a sofa that’s too firm, in the ‘dentist’s waiting room’ style.

Then we come to the dining table – my original goal was a proper family table, made of good solid wood, no MDF or veneers, thank you very much! On the other hand, it’s not a country kitchen with Aga and chocolate retriever, so I can’t have a lovely Victorian pine table, as much as I’d like one, and nor do I want something too bland and modern. (I dutifully looked at Oak Furniture Village, seeing as they are so keen to sell me something on their adverts, but that’s definitely not my taste).

On the John Lewis site, I really, really liked the Harmony table, until I realised it didn’t come with any dining chairs as standard, just benches with high backs which remind me a bit too much of school or church, and are not very practical compared to a bench that can slide under the table.

John Lewis recommended the chairs to go with this table were the Eames moulded plastic chairs – well, I know, it’s Eames, you can’t really go wrong, can you? That is until I tried sitting on one, and discovered that although it’s comfortable, it’s not what I’d call £328 comfortable.

And as a friend pointed out, why buy Eames chairs when they are going to be scribbled over and dribbled on with bolognese sauce for the next few years? – you can always by designer furniture later on. Then we discovered that the bog-standard moulded plastic chairs in the John Lewis cafe were just as comfortable for a fraction of the price…so those are now on the ‘maybe’ list.

Whilst in JL, we also spotted a table that seemed to answer everything we needed – Mira has a sleek, unfussy style that would go perfectly with our kitchen without veering too much into the retro 50s style (e.g. Ercol) which I like very much but am not sure I could live with. The Mira range also has a bench without a back which would slide perfectly under the table and be great functional seating for children.

We were quite happily decided that this was the table for us, until I checked the website and saw some of the reviews: “The only thing to be aware of is that the table top stains very easily…currently looking for a product to protect without effecting [sic] the matt/untreated-style finish”, and “Secondly, the table stains so easily, every mark shows. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of protective coating on the wood. It’s a great table for short-term use but we have now had ours for less than 6 months and it is starting to look worn and tired. Such a shame”.

That threw up a big red flag – sure, we have an oilcloth we could put over the table, but the legs and the bench would still be vulnerable, and at the moment we are going through a stage of a *lot* of toddler scribbling, on floors, the sofa, her own clothes, whatever she can get her hands on. We need a heavy duty table that can take a lot of knocks, and I’m not sure Mira is that table.

So we are back at square one with the table. I’ve looked at M&S, Debenhams, Ikea, House of Fraser etc, and can’t see anything else I like as much as the ones in John Lewis. I’d happily go for the Harmony table if I could decide I liked the benches with backs after all – but then, that table wasn’t actually on show in either of the shops we visited, and do I really want to order a table without seeing it for real?

We do have a back-up table, my old kitchen table from the old house, which seats 4 comfortably, but we really want a proper table sitting at least 6 or 8 in time for Christmas. With that deadline in mind, I need to keep hunting!