What a weekend! We wholeheartedly deserved that glorious weather, and more of it, too (hear that, Mother Nature? I hope you have lots more in store...).
Computers, television and phones were turned off. The back door was opened wide and we spent the entire weekend out in the garden. Bliss!
|The first picnic of the season|
I am slowly reintroducing myself to my garden. It’s been a while, you see, since we’ve seen had proper, quality time together. I’m talking years.
I grew up in a decidedly non-gardening family. I didn’t have a garden in my twenties, renting my little place while I worked in the city. But marriage and a baby brought out the nurturing, nature-craving instinct in me, and as soon as we moved to our home, I was out in the garden, reading about plants and flowers, watching Gardener’s World religiously (oh, Monty!).
|Little Flower planted bright anemones outside her playhouse this weekend|
When Bunny was little, we built miniature raised vegetable beds, inspired by Carol Klein’s wonderful Grow Your Own Veg series. We planted seeds, we weeded, we picked, we ate...I transformed the raised border surrounding our patio into a magnificent herb garden, chock full of a variety of useful and tasty herbs for cooking and teas. (Yes, I do find edible gardening much more aspirational...)
But in 2009, after years of trying and then giving up, lo and behold I fell pregnant with Little Flower. I have big babies, so by summertime my five-foot frame was carrying a massive baby bump, and no way was I going to make it down to the ground to pull weeds. The raised beds became Weed Island, with all varieties of garden invaders making the pilgrimage to the haven.
2010: Little Flower is an infant and we take her to see her family in America for a big summer holiday. Facing all the overgrowth of weeds and mess from the previous summer, I turn a blind eye to my poor garden.
2011: No recollection of this summer. Must have baby brain.
2012: Rain, rain, rain...oh, and more rain.
2013: I assume, unfortunately, that we were in for more depressing weather, so I leave the garden to its own devices, furthering the violent coup by the invading weed army.
2014: Little Flower is four and keen to grow things; I’m so fed up with the rubbish wet winter that now I’m ready for battle! We venture to the garden centre to choose seeds and shrubs to replace one lost in the storms.
Unable to choose between a pink azalea and a white one, we buy both and plant them side by side.
We pick millions of tiny twigs from the hellebores, the ferns, the hydrangeas, the herbs...the strong winds blew our silver birch trees to smithereens.
The trees are still standing, thankfully. Little Flower raked up the smaller garden shrapnel, while I handled the larger bits.
Of course I have little to show for this weekend’s toil other than large swathes of bare earth where grass used to grow, and piles and piles of kindling!
But I have promise: plants, seeds and the desire to get back to gardening after a long absence. This will be a good summer to reacquaint myself with that green bit out back, no matter what Mother Nature has in store (*more sunshine*, *more sunshine*, *more sunshine*...).