I had hoped, by now, to be sharing stories with you about a planned trip to Cuba. But I am sure you will not be surprised to learn that didn’t happen and my summer so far, along with many of us in the UK, has been spent in my garden. Not that the rest of the UK has been in my garden … but you know what I mean.
So, having tidied everything to within an inch of its life I decided very early on to plant some veg. I am notoriously bad at growing anything because I am impatient and if a seedling hasn’t appeared within a couple of days I assume the worst and go digging about with a Magnum stick (excellent mini dibbers – FYI). Thus upsetting said seedling, inducing shock, resulting in death. Mission aborted.
This year however, with time on my hands and strict instructions from husband – who incidentally is a very accomplished gardener – to “leave the bloody things alone”, I lined up my various recycled pots on the conservatory shelf and waited. The first lot of courgette seedlings popped their heads above the soil, were immediately overwatered, and died. After two weeks the tomatoes were no-shows and further inspection of the packet informed me ‘sow before 2012’.
Now, normal me would have given up, driven to the nearest garden centre, bought mature ready-to-fruit plants and taken all the credit but oh no, not the new ‘look how productive I’ve been in lockdown’ me. I searched deeper into the back of the shed and found some seeds that were only two years out of date. Repeat sowing process and wait. To my delight and surprise slowly but surely little plants appeared and flourished. It was like having a new family. We lost a few along the way but all in all they have gone from strength to strength, taking my pride along with them. My courgette plant has now completely taken over our seating area and is far too precious to be left to its (I nearly said ‘his’) own devices in the garden!
Alongside my dreadful reputation for growing veg is an equally dreadful one for keeping houseplants alive, but I do have an exception. Over 18 years ago a very dear friend in Yorkshire gave me an Oxalis to mark the birth of my son. This plant, without much expertise, has grown strong and healthy (much like my son!). It is also called a butterfly plant as it closes its leaves at night and goes to sleep. In a garden, somewhere warm and slightly damp, it will flourish. In a pot under similar conditions it will do the same. Once pot-bound it can be split without much care, given a new home with new soil and it will continue ad infinitum. I have passed various offshoots to many friends over the years and it continues to delight, so I’m proud to say that my very small triumph of the last 12 weeks comes plant-based.
Stay safe everybody and enjoy the little things.