A Spot Of Gardening

I hadn't done much in the garden recently, I must confess. The neighbours' incessant noisy dogs barking, angry shouting, loud radio and arguments have pretty much destroyed any enjoyment I'd hoped to get out of the garden. It's gotten to the stage we hardly use the back door any more in order to avoid the commotion. The back garden is in danger of falling into neglect. 

The avocado seems to be doing well

Nevertheless, my son and I stuck a bunch of potatoes in the new plot in the spring and since then I've been weeding a bit and watering over the dry months, but other than that it's just been a case of crossing my fingers and hoping for a big yield. Since this is the first weekend I've had off in what seems like forever, I thought I'd spend a bit of time going round the garden and seeing what's to be seen.

Space for Plot 3 on right before plum tree

When we moved in I instantly envisioned three strips of arable plots for crop rotation: brassicas, legumes and root vegetables. I dug up the second plot last summer (if I remember rightly. It's all been a bit of a blur since Covid reared its ugly head) and the plan should have been to dig up the third and final one this summer, but to be honest my spirit was not in it. Plus I was beginning to realise - more land needs more water. And more work. So I really need to get another water butt as well as get off my own.

Anyway, it's not too late. Maybe I can do some tomorrow morning. (Yeah right.)

This morning's fruit harvest

The great things about growing your own veg, even as a beginner, are: exercise, fresh air, cheap organic food, better for the environment, low carbon footprint. It's also educational for the kids. "Look, remember the potatoes I made you plant against your will and you complained about being dragged away from your screens for five minutes three months ago?" "Nope." "Well, look at this." "That's great, Dad. Big wow. Potatoes. Dude, I'm 12 years old, did you care about potatoes when you were 12?" "No, I was spending all my time watching TV and throwing cake ingredients at neighbours' windows." "Riiight."

Hopefully get a few more mini toms before the frost sets in

First I poked my head in the greenhouse, after using a stick to de-spider-web the place of course. Nothing better than getting a cobweb, several dead flies, spider exoskeletons and arachnid babies in your hair just after a shower. I plucked a napping snail off the inside of a pane and cast it onto the front lawn, where it tumbled to a halt near the hedge, no doubt thinking to itself, "WTF!" or whatever the snail equivalent is. Then I talked to the tomato plants. I apologised for ignoring them, I said thank you for their fruit. I asked them how their day was. The usual. They didn't respond but I like to think they appreciated it. 

The Monster Beetroot may soon get up and walk by itself

The beetroot was doing well. Not sure whether to dig it up now or leave it a bit longer. I imagine it might rot if I leave it in too long.

The strawberry

Then I examined the strawberry plant. Interesting thing about that is, last year it was overcome by grass until I left it for dead for several months. The grass died out but the strawberry survived. Now it has its pot pretty much to itself. Maybe I should rehome it.

Before

I looked at one end of the potato plot. Gathered three containers : one for weeds, dead plant stems and mouldy spuds destined for the compost; one for plastic or other inorganic matter that somehow found itself into the previous compost and therefore soil, destined for the rubbish bin, and a third for potatoes, destined for the kitchen. Got a spade and steeled myself for some hard, back-breaking, physical labour.

After

About 40 minutes later and some minor back pains I had half a sack of spuds and 1/6 of the plots had been turned over. Looked pretty good. Very satisfying. Didn't want to stop because the sight of potatoes popping up just by turning over the soil is always very rewarding. Food from the ground. Hooda thunk?

5.1 kg

The compost went into the compost, the rubbish went into the rubbish, the spuds went into the kitchen. I went for a lie down. 

Job done.

Brenda The Carrot

Sunday Thoughts

Well, here I am sitting in the glorious sunshine in our back garden having a spot of brunch in a bid to fend off the ‘pre lunch energy crash’ that I’ve been experiencing a lot recently (probably due to the nightly Heinekens (I bought four cans for the slugs and drank three myself (these days the slugs in my garden have two choices: salt or beer; some of them wisely choose the beer))))

I haven’t done much gardening of late and I’m not sure why. They say, “Spend time not money on your <insert valuable thing here>” and I haven’t been doing much of that at all. Sunday mornings were traditionally my gardening time but to be honest I haven’t been bothered. I’ve planted the spuds but the brassica and legumes patches lie empty. I guess I could move the broad bean saplings to the outside now we’ve hopefully seen the last of the frost. Why has my gardening spirit deserted me? I still don’t really know what brassicas are, but I have a feeling I don’t like them. Are they the green leafy veg like kale and Brussels sprouts? Sounds like ideal food for slugs to enjoy with beer and salt.

I read an article in last week’s Times Magazine by Rachel Riley of Countdown fame (she’s now 35!) and she said some of the best advice she’d ever received was: Decide what would be a good outcome of a project and if you achieve that, be happy with it. She also wrote: Only concern yourself with what will be important in five years’ time.

Rachel Riley in 2011. Source : Wikipedia CC by 3.0
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

This got me to thinking. Where will I be in five years’ time? What will be important to us then?

Well, I’ll be 51. I can’t even relax enough to imagine what that will be like. Probably just be exactly the same as now, except hopefully we’ll be closer to paying off the mortgage. Too much time wasted on social media. Failed half-empty writing promises. Not enough money. Unachieved goals.

I remember in 2008 I wrote a five year plan and it involved becoming self sufficient. IE we’d own our own house, have our own homestay business. Teach English at home and tour people around Scotland. Sounded like a pretty good goal.

And to some extent we approached this. We had guests coming in with AirBnB and Homestay. We had a refreshing home. People came and went. They stayed in the spare room. We even had a lodger at one point. Admittedly the first night was always a bit nervy because we never knew if they’d kill us all in our sleep, but after that didn’t happen it was fine.

I mean we could grow more food, it’s just a case of me being arsed.

The dandelions are out in full force today, and so are daisies on the lawn. I’ve put fatballs in the bird feeder and the house sparrows are tweeting merrily. Currently no neighbours are playing radios or shouting at dogs. Things seem momentarily peaceful. In the distance someone’s mowing their lawn and dogs are barking their indifference at each other, but that’s at a distance so completely fine. No fitness company is shouting orders via a PA system at their clients, which even at a distance is insufferable. 

It seems I’ve become a cantankerous old man, which must have snuck up on me in the last five years...

So back to Rachel Riley. Where do I want to be in 2026, because there’s a fair to middling chance that it will come around eventually.

I don’t want to be 51 - that’s a start. That’s the main one.  I'd rather be 25.5. But that’s ridiculous. I’m going to be 51 whether I like it or not. The question is, what kind of 51-year-old do I want to be? 

Looking at people younger than me lamenting their age I always think, “Hmm, they should just be grateful for what they have.” So perhaps that’s how I should be. Grateful for what I have. I should be grateful for being 51 because five years after that I’ll be 56. More pain. More hardship. Further from the truth. Or closer, depending on how you look at it. 

Okay, can’t do anything about that, but I can presumably do something about my situation. Me and my books and my writing and my wedding videos and my car and my music. I want to be an ageing hippy, smoking dope and giving lectures. And my dog. I want to enjoy the twilight years of my life. 

I want to live in a small house near the sea in St Andrews, with a garden in a quiet place. 

And all I’d need to do that is £135 grand...

Better get writing!

Fall Garden

"If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need." - Cicero

Our apple tree had a great load of full, sweet, zesty apples this year.

This morning I decided to spend a leisurely forty minutes tidying up the garden. I just wanted to de-clutter the place in preparation for the winter months when everything gets blown about. 

The chicken-wire cane triangles were useful for bean support and apple-catching but just for show now

Last night I built a makeshift fire pit with the mono-blocks we got from the next-door neighbour. I just went ahead and did it, placing the blocks in the time honoured tradition of ‘This looks about right,’ as I could not be bothered getting out a tape measure, digging up turf and putting sand down to make it level. But now I can see the dimensions I know what size it should be and can go ahead and do it properly the next time (if there is a next time).

By sheer coincidence (or just because it 'looks about right') the lid is the exact size of the fire pit. Reminds me a bit of the tunnel entrances of the Morlocks in HG Wells' Time Machine

My son came home and helped me fill it with old cut-offs of wood and he seemed to like the idea of having an autumn and winter fire pit where we can roast marshmallows and sit around telling ghost stories and drinking hot chocolate. Well, that’s the plan. Alternatively we might burn down the shed and the fence erected by ‘the neighbour who shall not be named’ and that would be bad. 

With the lid on it means I can store damp wood in here to dry out ready for burning.

I guess the fire would heat up the monobocks beneath, dry out the grass, possibly scorch the ground, but I can’t see it setting it on fire. This is Scotland, not the Australian bush. I’ll keep a bucket of water handy just in case. Maybe should move it a couple of feet away from said wooden structures just to reduce concerns. Ideally I should dig up the turf beneath and fill it with sand, an area a block’s width all around. Then make sure it's level. It might also help to have one of the BBQ trays inside to catch the ash in order to ferry it to the veg plots afterwards. Because ash is good for the soil, or so I heard …

Drying the wood. Maybe marshmallows tonight

This autumn my son and I planted 12 tree seeds, compared with the 23 last year, of which only one grew into a sapling (4.3% success rate) - this horse chestnut, looking a little ragged today but has shot up to 30cm in since the spring!

1 of the 23 seeds we planted last year grew into a strapping horse chestnut sapling

I once read it takes seven trees to produce enough oxygen for one human being. If you don't have a garden or space to grow trees there are lots of other ways of giving back to the planet. I recommend using Ecosia search engine, which uses profits to plant trees around the world, or even better, as I know them personally, contact Simon & Tracey West of WordForest.org. For a donation of just £2.50 a tree can be panted in Kenya which will not only remove a quarter of a tonne of CO2 from the air in a handful of years, but will also provide food and building materials for the locals. For four trees or more you also receive a certificate.

Ten tree seeds, comprising acorn, chestnut and sycamore

I travelled a lot in my younger years, especially to and from Japan, so I want to do something to pay back that carbon debt to the planet. Trees are solar-powered, self replicating, carbon capture-storage devices. And we find the blueprints just scattered around at our feet.

Two fir cones in moist soil. Fingers crossed!

Doing something as simple as putting fallen tree seeds in soil is one of the best things we can do for the planet. Just give them a chance, that's all they ask. Think of them as plants with potential. Grow them in pots for a few years and then plant them in a forest, give them to a friend as a present, sell them online or to a local council for £50. There are a lot of options. Apparently horse chestnut seeds need to feel the cold before germinating, so best to keep them outside.

My second vegetable plot (right) to double yield next year

I added more cardboard to the soil to discourage weeds from sucking up all the nutrients from the recently added compost. According to "How To Garden" a great book by Alan Titchmarsh.

The back hedge I planted a few years ago doing well

I think the back hedge, if I remember rightly, is 'Golden Crest'. It should grow pretty high. The top of the far left one was broken off by a falling child when he climbed over the fence to retrieve a football. I tried to help it re-root next to its body, but my efforts were in vain. Hopefully the rest of the tree will continue to grow without it. Could have been worse. It could have been the boy who got decapitated.

The front hedge I planted this summer starting to fill out

The 'bee tree' near our front door kept producing saplings of its own which my wife replanted in different parts of the garden. So I thought we could move them all to the front and make a hedge out of them to discourage pets from doing their business on our front lawn.

Red berries on green

I really believe in the health benefits of gardening. As well as being able to consume your own organic vegetables, the muscular effort involved in digging the earth, combined with the fresh air and feel-good aspect of nurturing living things, must have a beneficial effect on the soul. 

Now all I need is a library.