Page 32 - ALG Issue 4 2020

readers articles
“G-space” and whimsically unearthing my inner gardener
Years ago, I remember being with my father as he cultivated our gardens front and back while I played with the earthworms and became steadily grubbier and grubbier as children do. Wind on a few decades and I started helping out my lovely friend on her plot and discovered that I actually like hand- weeding. This came to the fore when we all gathered on her Grandda’s plot to clear, tidy and replant it for him while he was ill. The following year Grandda still wasn’t too good, so I offered to work it for him and was grateful for
his shed and collection of tools as
I turned over his 10 x 26-year plot,
set away seeds until the greenhouse was groaning at the seams, and fixed collapsing fencing and rotting shed boards. And I discovered I liked digging, too... as long as I used the lady spade.
That first year I produced three kinds of spud, a few cabbages (both red and white), watercress, scarlet emperor runner beans, failed with the caulis
– but the Romanesque ones came good, grew leeks, toms, cucumbers, strawberries, sweet pears, runner beans, herbs, shallots, gooseberries, runner beans, carrots, marrows, courgettes, and, oh yes, more runner beans. I like runner beans. The caulis and some of the cabbages failed to heart up (beginner’s mistake of not
consolidating the ground), and I lost half the onions to onion white root rot. There was a touch of club root in the cabbage patch, but the beetroot was fabulous. My transplanted currant bushes took umbrage at being shifted from pots in my backyard and failed to fruit, but the rhubarb was magnificent.
When I started to work the plot, the first thing I installed was my old camping stove and kettle – tea being compulsory of course! The second thing was a loo. My compost heaps are very grateful, I am sure! While all this was going on, I co-opted Debbie’s son Jack to paint and decorate the inside of the windowless shed to help with having light to see
by, and her youngest girl Katie (aged six) became “Bob the Apprentice” and proved to be a whizz at pricking out
and planting on. She has her mother’s green thumb. Sadly, this year’s social distancing has meant I have missed out on having my apprentice at my side.
Over the past 16 months then, I have also enjoyed the wisdom of and
picking the brains of my neighbouring plotholders, and happily swapped plants and tools and helped with polytunnels and chatting with their chickens. As you can see from the pictures, I have produced plot plans to help me think through the crop rotation
The maps
have been invaluable, and I have mini versions pinned up in the shed for last- minute changes.
and placement, which is complicated because some beds are lousy with onion rot. The maps have been invaluable, and I have mini versions pinned up in the shed for last-minute changes.
I have found that many gardening
jobs aren’t gardening at all! Almost
all of the structures on site are rotten, collapsing, or broken. I have spent the period waiting for seeds to germinate by fixing fencing, fixing the lean-to roof with Debbie, putting roofing felt on the leaky outer wall of said lean-to, nailing battens over the gaps in the shed walls, removing defunct fencing, finding
an old replacement wheel for the wheelbarrow, restoring tools, sorting out thousands of screws and nails, replacing framing for the huge cold frame covers, and unearthing and re- laying derelict brick paths so I can bring them into use. I found that many of the bricks were stamped with the names of
32 Allotment and Leisure Gardener