Many apologies to the one possible reader of this blog. Must do better.
Plus รงa change. 4 years
ago in the blog I wrote: “Every year since I returned from working
abroad, I have set myself the target of adding a good dose of compost to the
vegetable beds, sowing mustard (green manure), digging it all in when the
mustard had gown well, then sowing some more mustard and letting it grow and
then die over the winter. Once upon a time I could manage this
effortlessly. The last few years it has required a big effort, and
frequent stops. But little by little, and a bit later than usual, I have
completed the tasks. There is nothing to match home-grown
vegetables; this requires attention to the soil. Not cost effective, no
doubt, but well worth it. Tomatoes, potatoes and runner beans were this
year some of the best ever.
Suffering from cardiac failure, however inaccurate the term, leads to some soul
searching. Will I still be here next year? If still here, will I be fit
enough to do all the raising from seed, planting and tending etc? Am I
foolish to waste valuable time preparing veg beds that may not be used next
year? Who knows? I prefer to be positive. However
tiring, I actually enjoy managing the beds. I would be extremely sorry if
in a fit of pessimism I left the veg beds untended, and found next year I was
fit enough to do the usual garden work, but the beds were not properly
prepared."
I have prepared the vegetable bed for runner beans, adding compost, also for the raspberries. For greenhouse tomatoes, I now replace old
soil with a bucket of compost where each tomato will be planted. This has worked extremely well, and this year’s
crop was one of the best ever. Potatoes
I plant in ten litre buckets, draining of course, which means replacing the soil
each year with fresh soil that has not grown potatoes. Then sowing caliente mustard. Just
like four years ago, this was a slow business, now even slower. But completed! Other areas are neglected; there are too
many weeds and pruning is behindhand. Fortunately the weather on the whole has
permitted some gardening, itself a welcome relief in lockdown.
Perhaps next year, perish the thought, I shall have to get the help of a gardener.
I haven’t been doing as much exercise as I used to, have to try to do better. But here I am still, approaching a rather ancient birthday, but COUNTING.
