As a creative person
you would think that gardening would be something I was good at, or at least
half good at, but it really is not. Whatever the word is that means the opposite of green-fingered, I am it. I absolutely love flowers and the idea of
growing veg and I love nature, but I just don’t like it ON me. Getting all
dirty kind of makes me cringe and since the benefits of doing any such activity
aren’t immediately apparent (you have to wait for things to grow, and there’s
no guarantee they will), it really takes a lot for me to venture into the
garden. Plus, there’s the added pressure that my track record of keeping house
plants alive is very poor, not helped by the fact that I have a husband who
seems to be able to recall every single thing I have failed to keep alive (kill
is too harsh since this was never my intention).
However, I have been
able to keep these alive for nearly two years on my bathroom windowsill. Yes,
admittedly, my mother had to practically force me to water them after a year
and I think this has probably helped, but other than that I have done the whole
stretch myself. And I am very proud. So proud that I have in fact used it as
evidence when trying to convince my husband to let me buy another one. Yes, its
that bad that we have to ‘talk’ about when/if we can bring plants into the house.
So, that said, Ive
been having another go. As a mother of two boys who love to be outdoors and who
cannot be left unsupervised, I am forced to spend a lot of time in my garden. I
cannot just sit and do nothing and I cannot crochet as I get bombarded with
dirt- who knows why but I do. I can distinctly remember a year ago when I was
first learning to crochet I took my yarn and hook into the garden and, due to the fact that working into a foundation chain is so flipping difficult the first time you do
it I got completely absorbed and did not notice my toddler coming towards my
with a tub or freshly dug dirt and he tipped it all over me. More importantly,
all over my crochet. I. was. Mad. Warning: if you take up crochet your kids
will get into all kinds of trouble and they may well starve if they are not old
enough to get themselves something to eat. It’s very consuming, it just sucks
you in and hours fly by and before you know it your child is crawling towards
you with an empty beaker begging for water/food/love OR you suddenly realise
they are missing and you discover they’ve gotten into the Easter egg stash-bag
and devoured every single one the family received for Easter. Don’t say you
weren’t warned. Anyway, back to the gardening thing.
So, a little while ago,
encouraged by the glorious sunshine and the prospect of enjoying picnics on the
lawn surrounded by a wild flower meadow-ette, I set to work in our garden. I
haven’t taken any before photos because, honestly, I forgot, so you’ll just
have to take my word for it….our garden was awful
(still is as some areas remain untouched but I’m working on it).
It took a
llllooooonnnnggg time to dig out the heavy, sticky clay-like soil from out
flower bed, before filling it with bags of richly dark stuff you get from the
garden centre. I had a little one to help me, he thoroughly enjoyed being
allowed to dig up the garden and was totally AMAZED at the size of the garden
fork. ‘Wow’ he said, ‘that’s a huge fork!....Do you think I could eat my dinner
with it?....No, actually I think it would fall off.’ I agreed it would. He’s
two and a half, but wise as you can see! He especially enjoyed (as did I)
discovering earthworms for the first time. For some reason we have some
enormous specimens in our garden and they were all, it seems, ready to help us
improve the soil that day. Little H touched the first one we found and shrieked
with laughter- it tickled! Every worm we found he dutifully asked, ‘Can I
tickle it?’, Yes, but only if he was gentle. I spent a good few hours hearing
him laugh, I can only hope the worms were laughing too. The largest, and last
worm, needed relocating and Little H gladly stepped forward to volunteer. The
poor worm, apparently, wanted to play in lots of places in the garden; the
step, the car, the grass, the flowerbed, the plant pot, the blanket etc. and Little
H carried him wherever he wanted to go. I had to end the relocation project
eventually as I was concerned that it may be classed as cruelty to insects and
worms are actually pretty nice.
Lots of digging was followed
by a short break of homemade lemonade on the lawn- bliss!
Planting was pretty
speedy after all the digging: There are some alpine plants (not sure what this
means exactly as the label contradicts the alpine description but I’m going
with it) and in the corner is a mini English meadow, but you can’t
see it yet because they’re just seeds :)
In another bed I planted an
Echinacea plant and a few lavender plants with a sprinkling of marigold seeds
thrown in and the rest of the English meadow seeds. See what I mean about gardening lacking any real satisfaction? It
took so long and, well, doesn’t really impress!
Then we planted our
strawberry plants. The thing they are planted in was made for me by my Dad
about 6 years ago and, er, I’ve not really used it until now. It was designed
to grow carrots in as they need very fine, uninterrupted soil in order to grow
long and straight and the tube system is supposed to facilitate this. However, strawberries
taste better so they win. (Did you notice how well I 'talked the gardener's talk' just then? Carrots? How to grow them you ask...well, all you need to do is...! Ha!)
Little H helped me to
fill the tubes, I showed him how to scoop handfuls from the compost bag and to
crumble it into each section. He understood, and as I watched him working I
heard him uttering ‘crumble, crumble, crumble’ with each handful he broke up
into the tubes. I am so lucky to be a mum, and things like this just melt my
heart. Even if the strawberries fail (through no fault of my own of course) I
will cherish the memory of planting them.
I forgot about them. And
then… as I nipped into the garden to take something out of the rain one
weekend, this caught my eye:
YESSSS! LIFE! Wow,
what a thrill, but then….so sloooow to grow. Seeing the first little seedlings
seems such a huge accomplishment that you kind of expect it to keep rolling but
it took ages. Luckily for me the Marigolds were faster growers than the wild
flower meadow and before long I had many lettuce-like leaves to feast my eyes
upon which helped.
It feels like I have
been waiting a decade to see some flowers in my garden and guess what was there
to greet me when I returned from my holiday yesterday….
Hooray! I am just a tiny
bit proud. Ok, a lot proud. I actually grew something FROM SEED! I was so smug
when my Nan admitted that she’d never had much luck with seeds; ‘Ha!’ I
thought, ‘Maybe I have got something green in me after all’ (not just garden
envy). I have to admit though that the strawberry plants are now looking a
little sad and haven’t produced many good strawberries. Those that have appeared
were instantly eaten by Little H the moment they turned red. Then Little A
discovered the plant and just began eating them when they were green, Yuck! (He
won’t eat pasta but he’ll eat green strawberries, bark or dandelions…?)
So, there it is. In
all honesty I shouldn’t have wanted to wait for flowers to share this with you
but in my defence, how was I to know how long things take to grow? And as it stands I am falling a little bit in love with the idea of getting all dirty in the garden, dreaming in tulips and daisies. No longer does dirt deter me which, lets face it, is only a good thing as I have boys so life is going to be full of mud; I had better get used to it.
Thanks for stopping by, I hope your’e enjoying
the summer as much as I am, I'll share my more on my holiday soon :)
Hayley
xx
