This week has all been about getting into the garden; filling in spaces that have nothing growing, adding mulch (oh the mulch!), chopping back hedges, making runs to the garden centre for one more bag of compost (and mulch) and coming back with another beauty that caught my eye – perusing the clearance aisle for things we can squirrel away into unused corners to see if they grow. It’s getting packed out there in our tiny space. And I don’t mind one bit.
For too long it has been a neglected space as I lived with one foot out of the house wanting to move away and move on. But this year I’ve embraced the ‘grow where you’re planted’ sentiment and thrown my lot in with both house and garden. And it fees good. It feels good to commit. And I’ve surprised myself with not only what a difference it makes in the quality of our surroundings, but in myself too. I am content. I am growing where I’ve been planted, and that’s plenty for me to be getting on with.
I’m already planning for the work ahead in the autumn – mainly tree pruning. I need to install an outdoors water tap which is a little beyond my expertise and comfort zone of experimentation, so plan B is being thought through. I have no idea if anything will grow – ants have a partial dislike for some of my things, slugs and earwigs have joined the party and I have more aphids and ladybirds than you can shake a stick at. So my reading is back to the books discarded in the library about companion planting and permaculture. It’s all good. I’m not expecting to feed the five thousand from my plot, and anything is a bonus.
This week we harvested the dwarf peas! A small batch, but a delight nonetheless. We ate them at the iftar table and after years of hating peas the youngest cannot believe how tasty peas are now! He ate the lot. Herbs are also being cut back hopefully to get some more growth out of them before autumn. They are currently dehydrating in the outside room. Not much, but a mighty start in the art of growing where you’ve been planted.