No, not bikes, for once, although there is a parallel. This week I’ve been attempting to do All The Gardening (along with the last frantic week of Pedal on Parliament organising) as I try and catch up from our sodden winter and my busyness and get everything in the ground while I have the chance. Yesterday, as I was reminding myself how back-breaking potato planting was, the landlord gave me a last chance to take over the remaining vegetable plots in the walled garden before they were grassed over (the landlord’s veg production having been moved to raised beds nearer the house). Despite the fact that I already have more garden than I can really handle – and we now grow pretty much all the veg that we can reasonably eat, without extending the season with a poly tunnel – I was briefly tempted.
Clearly to a gardener, an extra patch of land is just as enticing as a new bike is to a cyclist. Sure, you have all the bikes you need, and not enough shed for another… but … shiny. Especially if the alternative is for the bike – or the garden – to be scrapped. The plots in the walled garden have been cultivated for decades and while they’re not being permanently lost, it does seem a shame that nobody is prepared to take them on. For one mad moment I did think about a career in market gardening but then I looked at the state of my own plot and came to my senses.
In other news, the first parsnip emerged today. Time to get the slug traps down before munching begins.
And we learned that pheasants and greenhouses don’t mix.