It turns out, then, that gardening is quite a commitment. If you neglect the patch for most of the autumn and the entire winter, and then you have a wet and cold spring, and then you decide to do ‘No Mow May’ (for the wildlife, darling, not because I’m lazy), when you finally get back out there the patch is a little on the overgrown side. Who knew?
Recap: Last winter’s veg were a little … disappointing, owing to my overly-tolerant attitude to wildlife. Some for you, some for me, I thought at first when I spotted the butterflies landing on my cabbages. By the time I realised they were a bit too greedy, I netted the plants, but I was too late. They got literally stripped to the stalks. I suspect the sprouts were not planted deep enough, and the carrots were of a size only suitable for pixies.
We got some smallish onions and a reasonable crop of potatoes. But hey, I am just learning, you know.
So now we are back planting the salad, which is always lovely, and the peas and beans and potatoes again. (Why don’t butterflies eat lettuce, then? Search me).
I spent a happy bank holiday Friday ignoring the Jubilee nonsense and sorting through the weeds. In particular, a bit of bindweed and something gardeners in Berwick call ‘sticky willie’ (I don’t recommend Googling this term).
The weeds I decide are nice get to stay – like this red valerian (which is sometimes known as 'Jupiter's Beard' and should get to stay on the basis of that name alone) and any buttercups. I made my peace with dandelions after learning of their importance as bee food, plus they have roots that go down to Australia.
As I hoped – from back in 2020 – the lockdown waterlilies are thriving.
I’d forgotten how genuinely good I feel after a gardening session, even though I am scratched to ribbons and filthy. I just need to keep this up.
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