Last year was a year of nearly no posts, and equally not very much gardening. My plots are, quite frankly, feral. It’s so bad that our Committee Chair has gently pointed out that I need to have a word with myself or consider giving at least one up. They look like this, and I think we can all agree there is a bit of work ahead.
It’s not all doom and gloom. In a rare moment of foresight I planted crops for about now-ish and I have leeks, kale and PSB all ready for the picking. My wild garlic is poking up in the hedgerow, and there are 2 bags of spuds in the shed. (There is also the actual garlic I forgot to plant…)
To make some inroads into the wildernesses, one of my Lenten resolutions is to spend a few hours up there 3x/week. I figure that will get me some workable beds by the end of this month and an idea of how to sort the rest. After all, the best way to ensure no change, or to have no crops is to do nothing. I’ve so far turned over half a bed, repotted lillies, unearthed the rhubarb from a carpet of encroaching grass and cut back half the bordering hedge.
Today’s jobs included clearing mummified tomatoes and chillies out of the greenhouse. There really is nothing quite like the scent of tomatoes in their truly rancid phase, other than perhaps a rotting potato. I harvested barely anything last year, and I am betting the top centimetre of soil is riddled with seeds. It would bother me, but this year I really do have to change the soil in there. Sod mountain, which has been home to many a wasp nest, is now going to be dismantled and barrowed in. The current soil is going to shore up this year’s flower bed – currently sleeping under yet more grass/strawberries/bindweed… The greenhouse also needs a wash to reveal its shiny happy self when the water is back on – the plastic shouldn’t be green on the inside!
What was nice was seeing not everything is dead in there. Sweet cicely is emerging and not all the carob trees are crispy. My peach tree is about to break into flower. I’ve sown some experimental tomatoes from identifiable fruits hanging on the vines to see if that can save me some faffing at home. Fingers crossed..
As for non-gardening updates: I still have the Horse. I’ve had him on loan since July and it makes me unbelievably happy to see the hairy, snorty mudball every day. Even though he dumped me unceremoniously on the floor today. Plus he is ably producing all my compost heaps could hope for! He’s thankfully not high maintenance, but I ride 4-6 times a week and visit twice a day, which takes time. In other news, Mr Mudandgluts and I went our separate ways last year – and though we both thought it was the right thing to do, it was still glum and it’s another reason for not really writing. I am, however, very grateful for my stonking support circle of friends and family, who are just brilliant. Mum, Gally, Michelle, Maggie, Anja and Sarah especially – you’ve been wonderful. I also cut off my hair, and I need to sort out some current photos – I now resemble Claire Balding/a ’90s Russian spy/a Bananarama reject depending on who you talk to in my family.
And finally, also from last year but very much A Good Thing, was the discovery of dusty kilner jars under the bed. The contents are awesome, in particular the sloe port which is a surprising pale gold given it was made with some pretty hearty chianti. I would definitely recommend forgetting sloe-based alchohol for a few years, it’s well worth it!
Categories: Diary 2019