Four years ago the very thought of having to do a stint in the garden would have turned my blood cold. I hate ironing (definitely a chore invented by man – are creases really such a bad thing J ?) but given the choice, four years ago I would have tackled my ironing mountain with a great deal more gusto and enthusiasm, than I would have the gardening.
Not now though. I love my garden. I especially love serving my own salads and vegetables up as part of family meals for 6-8 months of the year and I have come to the startling conclusion that gardening is addictive – very, very addictive.
If the weather is just too inclement to do any work on the run up to the growing season, I find myself worrying that the ground wont be ready for the first crops which is pretty ridiculous really because with the exception of things such as onion sets and carrots, the vast majority of the vegetable plants wont be in the ground until May at the earliest. This gives me plenty of time to finish re-organising the netting, weeding and digging.
One of the major jobs is the cleaning down of everything. The disinfecting of the greenhouses, including the staging, and the washing out of hundreds of pots, tubs and seed trays, propagators and the millions of little plastic labels that I wash and reuse very year.
So with the seed compost bought, my hands itching to get started but the wind making outside work unpleasant at best, I have washed out some of the seed trays and windowsill propagators which are now drying on the hearth in front of the Rayburn and by bedtime tonight I am determined that my peppers, chillis, tomatoes, leeks and assorted flowers (for the bees, ladybirds and hoverflies) will be sown and resting happily on various windowsills around the house.
Tomorrow, if the weather forecast is correct, I will be out in the veg’ beds by mid morning digging to my hearts content, preparing the soil for this years’ young plants. What joy.