Thorny problems: why aren't my borders thriving? Desperate measures Seven years ago I dug and planted two borders, one for shrubs with annuals in front, and one purely for herbaceous perennials. The site is rather exposed and the soil is heavy, alkaline clay. Things are just not thriving. Most of the shrubs have survived, but are slow. However, the bedding plants seem to shrivel and die. The herbaceous border is even worse - perennials only seem to last a year. The only things that do really well are poppies, geraniums and alchemilla. I am giving up hope. Have you any words of comfort? Jenny Dobson, via email So much to say, so little space. Basically, your plants are struggling in the clay, which may be quite fertile but desperately needs opening up with the addition of texture-improving, moisture-retaining organic matter whenever and wherever you have the chance to do so. You should also perhaps consider planting shelter hedges if appropriate. Shrub/annuals border: For now, mulch your survivors and feed them with a general fertiliser. Forget about annuals - they are more trouble than they are worth. But do improve the front of the border soil with organic matter plus horticultural sand (roughly 70/30) before you plant anything else: instead of annuals, plant low-growing, dwarfy shrubs - for example, helianthemums that enjoy alkaline soil. For ideas, look at similar local gardens and see what works. Herbaceous border: If you have the stomach and muscles for it, redo the flower border in the autumn. Take out the best plants, potting them up temporarily or heeling them in while you dig in absolutely masses of rich, coarse organic matter (well-rotted horse manure?) and sand as above, breaking up the clay as you go, using a fork rather than a spade which makes the job much easier. Once replanted, mulch your border annually with organic matter. Finally: Replacing your soil in desperation is not a good idea for lots of reasons. Improving the soil you have is the best way forward. Wadhurst open gardens I am, along with many others in my village, opening my garden as part of the Wadhurst Open Gardens Weekend on both Saturday June 15 and Sunday June 16, and will also sign copies of my book (s). Wadhurst is a few miles south of Tunbridge Wells, in East Sussex. For more details about times, dates and tickets for this event, which is in aid of our parish information centre, please contact: lizrosevear@hotmail.co.uk. I should take this opportunity to apologise to all those who asked if they could make up small groups to come to see my garden this summer. I simply did not have time to organise visits - nor, in some cases, I hate to admit, even to acknowledge your many requests. Again: sorry. Visiting historic houses with parents when I was small was something I endured rather than relished - all that whispering in cavernous drawing rooms with hands virtually tied behind my back in case, heaven forbid, I touched something. Outside was not much better: children were best kept on leads - or that is how it felt. It all seems a bit different now, as I discovered when I visited the National Trust's latest garden restoration at Canons Ashby in Northamptonshire. The house, interesting rather than beautiful, with a lofty tower from which you can get a magnificent view of the garden, was built in the 16th century as the pleasantly small-scale home of the influential Dryden family. Through that familiar tale of debt and disaster both house and garden fell into disrepair, to be restored in the 19th century by Sir Henry Dryden, an eccentric antiquarian, only to fall into decay again in the 20th. Since the Eighties, when the National Trust got hold of it, the property has been lovingly hauled back from the brink and the garden restored (perhaps "re-imagined" or "reawakened" are better words for it) to reflect the life and times of Sir Henry, whose meticulous surveys were of great help to those who have worked on it since. Thus the topiary bones of the original Jacobean garden have now been fleshed out with some flamboyant Victorian bedding schemes, very much in the spirit of Sir Henry. This is less weird than it sounds, and the place has gorgeous views, is beautifully maintained and has the best NT café I have been in (try the Ember Day tart, based on a medieval recipe). Children are warmly welcome here. But I was reliably assured that if they disrupt the tranquillity of the topiary garden, the statue at the end comes alive and beats them with his stick. Possibly more horticulturally interesting for grown-ups was the much larger National Trust property of Upton House near Banbury. Upton is a big, impressive pile, much extended in the Thirties and therefore "themed" to that period. As at Canons Ashby, "heritage" is handled with a certain amount of licence. There is a stark terrace with clever, ever-changing formal bedding (last week: battalions of red tulips, edged with hoops of scarlet cornus stems), a pool and lawn where you can perfectly imagine the louche and glossy house parties of the time. I would be giving away too much to describe the garden in detail. Suffice to say that it's huge, intriguing, absolutely not what it seems to be when you first enter, with a lot of really tricky restoration work still in progress. There is also a lot of water, a marvellous dingly dell and a national collection of asters. A wide green space accommodates children's activities in the holidays. But be warned about one thing: don't let your little angels tear off at top speed right to the far end of what can only be described as the "infinity lawn," or you might find yourselves the subject of one of those "miraculous cliff fall survivor" headlines. Come to think of it, perhaps children should be kept on leads after all. More information on both gardens at National Trust.