My parents are keen gardeners and allotment owners. I am fortunate enough now that I have my own place to still receive the wonderful fruit and vegetables my parents grow as well as a bunch of flowers every now and again. There really is nothing better than home grown. Last summer I didn't even visit the fruit and veg aisle of my local supermarket thanks to the folks' constant flow of goods. I must admit it was something I grew pleasantly fond of and when Winter hit and the fruit and vegetables slept through the cold weather, I found myself having to spin around in the supermarket and head back to the vegetable aisle to pick up the odd few bits I had got used to having from my parents such as salad, cabbage and carrots.
I'd really like to say I had inherited their enthusiasm and knowledge, as they did from their parents. Even their siblings enjoy the fresh air and muddy fingernails. Unfortunately it doesn't look like I have received this passion. Now that I have my own garden I feel as though I should get out there and have a field of flowers instead I have a mass of dandelions and daisies as well as the odd pooey present from Murphy. Last year Richard and I managed to make a start on digging a proper bed and getting rid of some unsightly weeds that were attempting to take over. Richard also nursed our grass back to health and spent many a day out there watering the grass seeds and declaring "I think it looks better you know" while I looked on in bemusement.
I also was fortunate to have my Mum pop over just before the bad weather hit and show me what needed to be weeded and also offer a bit of muscle. This information on weeding unfortunately didn't stick in my brain as a month ago I tried to de-weed the bed Richard and I so lovingly created. I went out there with my game face on but as I embarked on this mission it soon became clear I was way over my head. In my eyes it all looked the same and I had no clue whether or not I was indeed pulling out weeds or I was undoing my brilliant handy work at bulb planting. I had to retreat back inside and have a cup of tea to recover.
I did take a trip to the local garden centre and rescued some daffodils that were close to being thrown out, managed to pick between the hundreds of different coloured pansies on offer, made the tricky decision on what colour pot I should choose for the porch and watched as Richard lifted up two heavy bags of compost for me. I managed to arrange some lovely hanging baskets and two plant pots for the front of the house to make it look that little bit more cheerful. That in itself was a big achievement for me and I must admit I am a little bit too proud of the daffodils that have popped up over the garden I planted last year and other signs of colour that are appearing.
Hopefully soon I can bribe my Mum with tea and cake to come and help me clear out those weeds and make sense of what all of these plants are called only this time, I might take notes...
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