It's been a busy weekend. The Boy volunteered to come and help us, although frankly, despite the best will in the world (when he wasn't playing Lego Star Wars) he was more hindrance than help.
But if you want beer brought to you without even having to ask, he is your boy.
It has been fun. The Boy arrived on Friday and we had a barbeque. It was nice enough that we could eat outside, and we decided to have kebabs.
The Baron had lamb kebabs with peppers, the Boy had pork kebabs with celery (I was sceptical, but it was really rather good) and I had prawn kebabs with courgette and pepper. We all had salad and barbequed flatbreads with houmous.
The Boy was in charge of painting each kebab with secret sauce (so-called because I refused to tell the Boy what it was for years because he would have refused to eat it - all it is is good tomato ketchup with a generous splash of tobasco sauce) whilst I made the bread and houmous.
The Baron was in charge of the fire. Literally. As is his wont, he created a towering inferno. It is an impressive site, guaranteed to have Lila cowering behind the wheelbarrow, and the Boy is now convinced that all barbeques should be so dramatic. To the point that when he sees other people tending theirs, he shakes his head sadly and mutters that there isn't enough fire to cook anything.
Poor warped child.
The Boy was his little cooking sidekick, proudly insisting that he was being manly. I wasn't so impressed when he told me that since I was a woman I couldn't cook the food over the barbeque because it was a man's job, however, so after a brief discussion on equality he ran and got me another beer and a flower.
It was good enough for me.
The next day was gardening day. We nipped out to pick up a few bits and pieces, and because both the Boy and the Baron spent so long lusting over PC games when we went to look at a new keyboard, we ended up in Pizza Hut for lunch.
I may have mentioned before that the Baron and the Boy have a similar mental age.
So whilst I did the grown up thing of actually getting a table and menu, they were cajoling another waitress to let them have a handful of helium balloons. They must have really turned on the charm because they both strutted over with a couple of balloons apiece.
Last time the three of us went out, it was Christmas and the Baron inhaled helium and serenaded me with a squeaky rendition of a crappy Robbie Williams song. I don't really like Robbie Williams at the best of times, and his waste of space brother had Angels as the first wedding dance back in Ireland (something I could happily never think about again until the day I die) but the helium treatment certainly gave it something.
This time, he treated me to Grace Kelly by Mika. It was different. And completely hysterical. I recorded it on his mobile phone, so rest assured, I will be inflicting it upon you all very soon.
The Boy doesn't get inhaling helium. He lets the gas out in his mouth, but doesn't shut his mouth to suck down on the balloon. So it barely works. That doesn't stop him faking a very high pitched voice though........and for the record, he cannot sing. Not a note.
After more pizza than we probably should have eaten, we headed home to commence Operation Finish The Garden So Star Wars Lego (The Original Trilogy) Can Be Installed And Played.
I've previously mentioned the extreme change in our front garden. The heavy work is all done, and all that remained was for me to plant out the seedlings currently filling the conservatory.
This is what I planted out:
Tomatoes (five different varieties)
Peppers (two different varieties)
Carrots (two different varieties)
Runner beans
Dwarf green beans
Peas
Garlic
Sweetcorn
Pumpkin
Butternut squash
Courgettes
Mint
Basil
Rosemary
Strawberries
Lettuce (two varieties)
Cabbage
Parsnips
Winter greens
The Dreaded Brussel Sprouts (for my Mum)
I forgot about starting the leeks and artichokes off, but I still have time.
The Baron was working in the back garden.
Because, of course, we then decided to redo our dog destroyed back garden. Not content with a week of back breaking labour in the front garden, we hired a skip and did the same to the back.
The Boy desiginated himself as Team Captain. Because he got bored with digging after approximately two minutes and forty seconds, he took to whipping us with his deflated helium balloon and telling us we weren't putting our backs in to it.
However, he did have a benevolent streak. He allowed us to take five pretty much every ten minutes and kept us well hydrated with water, beer and diet coke.
It became clear that the two of us, with the hindrance of the Boy was not going to be enough to complete the heavy work over the weekend. So it was time to call in reinforcements.
We had a little Garden Breaking Party with the bribe of beer and a barbeque. However, the only people up for it were my computer obsessed (and therefore no help at all) mad mother and my hernia ridden father.
Still some help is always better than no help. We gratefull accepted and got on with it.
And we did it! We must have moved several tonnes of soil, dog crap and stones over the weekend, and we are all paying for it now (I walk like the newly created Darth Vader), but it is done!
We had a little celebration after, with lots of beer from my recent France trip and another nice barbeque (note to self - whilst the Baron goes overboard on coal, my father tends to the other direction. Sneak more on when he isn't looking otherwise the food will never cook).
Later this afternoon, once I get back from work, we will be buggering around with cement and laying the replacement slabs (many were broken because of the old pond). I'm quite looking forward to that.
I don't think the Baron is. He doesn't seem quite with it today. I just wandered into our bedroom to get a bottle of water, and I saw Frankie on the windowsill, sunning himself and admiring the bugs.
"Hey Stein! How are you doing, Mister FrankieCat?"
From the bed, I heard a distinct
"I'm fine. How are you?"
I think the heavy work has addled his brain to the point he thinks he is a cat.
Showing posts with label Gardeners World. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gardeners World. Show all posts
Sunday, 29 April 2007
Tuesday, 17 April 2007
The Front Garden
The dogs have destroyed the back garden. We knew it would happen - they love chasing each other and wrestling each other (lots of noise and bared teeth, much to the amusement of the neighbours), and the end result is soil and stones everywhere.
Not, of course, to mention the pollution of our once great vegetable beds.
We were resigned to this from the day that Darth Lila came home. Zach Attack! was just the icing on the dog poo cake. Not a cake I particularly wish to eat, as it happens. We knew our days of veg growing were numbered.
Until I pruned the roses.
Once upon a time, roses festooned our garage. At some uncertain point in time, they got the arse and buggered off. In their place were thistles. Thistles with a mission to overtake our village. To achieve that, they joined forces with the ivy already growing over the wall and roof and set about their aim.
It had got to the point that just walking down our path was a dice with danger. If the wind was blowing, you ran the risk of getting whacked in the face by a rogue offshoot of the power seeking thistles.
Once blinded, you then were free to trip over the paving stones that were slowly shifting position. Our conifer was jealous of the expansion plans of the thistles and was staging its own little rebellion by reaching for the stars and for the North Sea. The roots were forcing our path up and out, and many is the time that I have been labrador propelled down the path and ended up on my arse outside the garage because I got poked in the eye by a thistle and then tripped over the damn paving stone.
(I'd like to say that is how I broke my toe for the fifth time. But it would be a steaming pile of hotspur)
So after my latest mishap I decided to prune the thistles. I'd been putting it off for a while, partly through idleitis, partly through shit weather and partly because the Baron had hidden the good tools from me.
But the sun was shining and I was feeling like a little gardening.
I like pruning. It feeds the destructive little monster that resides within me that has little outlet in real life. Readers, I got my revenge on those thistles.
In fact, it would be fair to say that I decimated the buggers. They are gone. Not just the thistles that were taking over the garage, but the thistles that had staked a claim under the conifer, the thistles under the huge tree that I am allergic to but have no idea what it is, and the thistles that were slowly strangling the compost bin.
All gone.
The problem was that once that was all cleared, the garden, or overgrown helllhole as we affectionately call it, looked very lopsided. The trees looked out of place. It just wasn't right.
A vision of what could be floated before my eyes. An endless row of beans and peas taking the place of the ivy. Pots of carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, sweetcorn, courgettes and spinach where human feet could not currently tread. Hanging baskets of strawberries instead of thistles. Herbs instead of dead leaves.
And the monster inside called for more.
So I began a more extensive deforestation programme. The conifer tree was the first victim, and was surprisingly easy to deal with, given that it was over eight feet tall and I am just over five feet two.
One spade + one pair of shears + one determined Mouse = one ex tree
The second tree was a little more complicated. The above equation was not going to work. But that led to a new problem.
The rules of our house are simple. They have been refined throughout our nearly twelve years together (seven of which have been under a shared roof):
The Baron must turn his socks out the right way before putting them in the washing basket.
The Baron must empty his pockets before putting dirty clothes in the washing basket.
The Baron must put the seat down.
The Baron must be dropped off at the hospital if a cat needs emergency vet treatment.
Mouse cannot play the guitar if the Baron is in the house.
Mouse may not light candles unless there is a power cut or the cats are held hostage in a separate locked room.
Mouse must never ever ever use power tools without adult supervision.
Reinforcement was clearly needed in order for the house rules to be obeyed.
The Baron was very shocked to get out of bed and find most of the front garden neatly piled in one corner. He was even more shocked to be presented with a bacon sandwich, the electric saw and a request to remove an entire tree.
Bless him, he ate up and did as he was told.
One Baron armed with power tools + one Mouse in a supervisory role = another ex tree
I won't bore you with the details of actually clearing the remains of our newly discovered garden. It involved a fuck off huge bonfire, a disagreement with the neighbours visitors over the aforementioned bonfire, some fun with the hosepipe putting out the aforementioned bonfire, multiple trips to the recycling centre, a lost pair of gloves and a lot of sneezing.
The garden was a blank canvas. The vision was a step closer to reality. We would grow vegetables again, oh yes, we would.
The final step was the hardest.
Digging is bloody knackering. The Baron was very dedicated and really put his back into it. On the other hand, I would dig for fifteen minutes, bugger off and enjoy a cold beer and then come back for another fifteen minutes. Naturally the pace slowed as the alcohol consumption increased. I am a lush, after all, and I have just discovered a new lager from Barbados that slid down a treat.
Hey, it WAS a hot day.
But there was a corner that neither of us wanted to touch.
Just over two years ago, we placed my soul cat in a small hole in the front garden. We had planned to leave that corner alone and let him rest in peace. Something the little bastard never extended to me in life.
But the root ball of another plant had grown in to that spot and needed to be removed. With heavy hearts, we set to it.
For the record, two years is not enough time to fully decompose one small fluffy and evil cat.
Additionally, for the record, the Baron is petrified of remains of any sort. Which meant he dug with his eyes shut and ran away when he felt a crunch, leaving me to see that he had put the spade through my special cats skull, which still, after two years had the one tooth in it that was due to be cleaned before he was killed.
It's bad enough that I had to put him in that hole, but to have to remove bits of him again and put him in the bin (nowhere else safe to put him) was too much. I don't think there is alcohol enough in the world to make that better.
However, it had to be done and I am glad that it was me that did it. It was not a job I could have in all good conscience asked someone else to do. He was my cat.
But the work is all finished. The front garden is now awaiting the Great Planting Event of 2007, scheduled to take place in a few weeks when my seedlings are a little hardier.
As Bob would say. Job done. For now.
Not, of course, to mention the pollution of our once great vegetable beds.
We were resigned to this from the day that Darth Lila came home. Zach Attack! was just the icing on the dog poo cake. Not a cake I particularly wish to eat, as it happens. We knew our days of veg growing were numbered.
Until I pruned the roses.
Once upon a time, roses festooned our garage. At some uncertain point in time, they got the arse and buggered off. In their place were thistles. Thistles with a mission to overtake our village. To achieve that, they joined forces with the ivy already growing over the wall and roof and set about their aim.
It had got to the point that just walking down our path was a dice with danger. If the wind was blowing, you ran the risk of getting whacked in the face by a rogue offshoot of the power seeking thistles.
Once blinded, you then were free to trip over the paving stones that were slowly shifting position. Our conifer was jealous of the expansion plans of the thistles and was staging its own little rebellion by reaching for the stars and for the North Sea. The roots were forcing our path up and out, and many is the time that I have been labrador propelled down the path and ended up on my arse outside the garage because I got poked in the eye by a thistle and then tripped over the damn paving stone.
(I'd like to say that is how I broke my toe for the fifth time. But it would be a steaming pile of hotspur)
So after my latest mishap I decided to prune the thistles. I'd been putting it off for a while, partly through idleitis, partly through shit weather and partly because the Baron had hidden the good tools from me.
But the sun was shining and I was feeling like a little gardening.
I like pruning. It feeds the destructive little monster that resides within me that has little outlet in real life. Readers, I got my revenge on those thistles.
In fact, it would be fair to say that I decimated the buggers. They are gone. Not just the thistles that were taking over the garage, but the thistles that had staked a claim under the conifer, the thistles under the huge tree that I am allergic to but have no idea what it is, and the thistles that were slowly strangling the compost bin.
All gone.
The problem was that once that was all cleared, the garden, or overgrown helllhole as we affectionately call it, looked very lopsided. The trees looked out of place. It just wasn't right.
A vision of what could be floated before my eyes. An endless row of beans and peas taking the place of the ivy. Pots of carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, sweetcorn, courgettes and spinach where human feet could not currently tread. Hanging baskets of strawberries instead of thistles. Herbs instead of dead leaves.
And the monster inside called for more.
So I began a more extensive deforestation programme. The conifer tree was the first victim, and was surprisingly easy to deal with, given that it was over eight feet tall and I am just over five feet two.
One spade + one pair of shears + one determined Mouse = one ex tree
The second tree was a little more complicated. The above equation was not going to work. But that led to a new problem.
The rules of our house are simple. They have been refined throughout our nearly twelve years together (seven of which have been under a shared roof):
The Baron must turn his socks out the right way before putting them in the washing basket.
The Baron must empty his pockets before putting dirty clothes in the washing basket.
The Baron must put the seat down.
The Baron must be dropped off at the hospital if a cat needs emergency vet treatment.
Mouse cannot play the guitar if the Baron is in the house.
Mouse may not light candles unless there is a power cut or the cats are held hostage in a separate locked room.
Mouse must never ever ever use power tools without adult supervision.
Reinforcement was clearly needed in order for the house rules to be obeyed.
The Baron was very shocked to get out of bed and find most of the front garden neatly piled in one corner. He was even more shocked to be presented with a bacon sandwich, the electric saw and a request to remove an entire tree.
Bless him, he ate up and did as he was told.
One Baron armed with power tools + one Mouse in a supervisory role = another ex tree
I won't bore you with the details of actually clearing the remains of our newly discovered garden. It involved a fuck off huge bonfire, a disagreement with the neighbours visitors over the aforementioned bonfire, some fun with the hosepipe putting out the aforementioned bonfire, multiple trips to the recycling centre, a lost pair of gloves and a lot of sneezing.
The garden was a blank canvas. The vision was a step closer to reality. We would grow vegetables again, oh yes, we would.
The final step was the hardest.
Digging is bloody knackering. The Baron was very dedicated and really put his back into it. On the other hand, I would dig for fifteen minutes, bugger off and enjoy a cold beer and then come back for another fifteen minutes. Naturally the pace slowed as the alcohol consumption increased. I am a lush, after all, and I have just discovered a new lager from Barbados that slid down a treat.
Hey, it WAS a hot day.
But there was a corner that neither of us wanted to touch.
Just over two years ago, we placed my soul cat in a small hole in the front garden. We had planned to leave that corner alone and let him rest in peace. Something the little bastard never extended to me in life.
But the root ball of another plant had grown in to that spot and needed to be removed. With heavy hearts, we set to it.
For the record, two years is not enough time to fully decompose one small fluffy and evil cat.
Additionally, for the record, the Baron is petrified of remains of any sort. Which meant he dug with his eyes shut and ran away when he felt a crunch, leaving me to see that he had put the spade through my special cats skull, which still, after two years had the one tooth in it that was due to be cleaned before he was killed.
It's bad enough that I had to put him in that hole, but to have to remove bits of him again and put him in the bin (nowhere else safe to put him) was too much. I don't think there is alcohol enough in the world to make that better.
However, it had to be done and I am glad that it was me that did it. It was not a job I could have in all good conscience asked someone else to do. He was my cat.
But the work is all finished. The front garden is now awaiting the Great Planting Event of 2007, scheduled to take place in a few weeks when my seedlings are a little hardier.
As Bob would say. Job done. For now.
Friday, 30 September 2005
Good deal!
I acquired an allotment today.
Not just an allotment, but a rather large patch of land is mine for the princely sum of £30 a year. No-one else in the village is using the allotments, and so I can rent the entire lot to expand my vegetable garden.
So.......it looks like I might be able to keep chickens in my garden now! I am so excited!
Not just an allotment, but a rather large patch of land is mine for the princely sum of £30 a year. No-one else in the village is using the allotments, and so I can rent the entire lot to expand my vegetable garden.
So.......it looks like I might be able to keep chickens in my garden now! I am so excited!
Wednesday, 4 May 2005
Not so much..
.....a Day in the Life, but a week!
I was supposed to do some work last weekend. That pile of files? Four reports that were due. Do you see the problem? Unsurprisingly the reports didn't get written that day, since removing the cat is usually more trouble that it is worth. She likes to remove the paper from files, in the hopes of finding a paperclip she can play with. Maybe I should use Ellie more ofter as a paperweight? Maybe not - she is a little on the small size. Charlie and Ozzie would make far better paperweights and they are far less excitable.
Willow had yet another vet appointment last Saturday. This is the road leading to the Forest, and we have just left my village. I take that road most days as it is the quickest route to the motorway, the nearest town and pretty much anywhere we want to go. We live in a pretty bit of country!
Time to catch up on the washing. Or not. I am lazy and despite intentions to the contrary, often leave the weeks washing until the weekend. I try to keep it in piles, and have the next load ready in the basket to take downstairs. This is a fairly common sight in our house, but had to be caught on camera. Frankie is very partial to a snooze in the washing basket and this held me up. I COULD be mean and boot him out (although I usually just use the basket with the cat in it), but since washing is not my favourite past-time it was pretty easy to find something else to do. Those reports perhaps?........
Maybe not. Charlie has recently discovered the delights of Spider Solitaire and is getting quite good. He won that game. Moving Charlie usually results in a bite. He might be a cuddly cat at night but he doesn't like to be interrupted when on the computer. If you look closely under the game in progress you can see the report I was trying to write. I turn my back for one minute and the cat nicks the computer! Well, the reports weren't that urgent anyway............
Potatoes. I checked today and the plant has now grown over the top of the barrel. We have two of these barrels.
Runner beans, part two. The first crop died as we planted them way too early.
Parsnips, garlic, spring onions, red onions and chives. Oh, and leeks as well.
Carrots, more garlic (middle terracotta pot) and strawberry bushes.
Lettuce.
The Baron's beloved fellow artichokes, under their little cloches. He saw a sketch on tv referring to "my fellow artichokes" and it stuck. I have no clue what it means, but if it keeps him happy....and quiet then I am happy to go along with it!
That is the rail at Moorgate tube, Northern Line. It is not supposed to have six inches of water under it. I wonder where all the little mice went that day? Anyway, that "little" puddle caused several hours worth of delays for thousands of people. I eventually got to work.....
Home time.
Liverpool Street Station.
The next couple of days were spent in London doing various bits and pieces. And this is where I got a little carried away. The dangers of a camera phone! 
I was a bit rushed for time on Wednesday so I didn't get to do what I really wanted to. I was at Kings Cross and I really wanted to take a picture of platform 9 3/4, but I had to run to the Thameslink platform. This is the station though.
I received many of my exam results outside that station - we had to wait for the early delivery of the next day's newspaper to see if our names were in it. If they were, we had passed. If not, tought titty. I spent a good few hours crying outside that damn station. 
On the way to a residential centre in South London. 
On the way home. This was taken coming over Blackfriars Bridge. If you look into the distance you can see Tower Bridge. 
A better picture of the cathedral from the top of the 26 bus. If you were standing on those steps you would be looking down Ludgate Hill. 
A typical London view. The bus is coming up to Bank, and that is the Erotic Gherkin in the background. A great mix of contemporary and classic architecture. 
Bank isn't drunk. The bus was turning. It's bloody hard taking a picture on the top deck going round corners!
Just past Bank gives a better view of the narrow streets. The bus is getting towards Liverpool Street.
This is St Ethelburga's Church opposite Liverpool Street. It was destroyed in the 1993 Bishopsgate bomb and has only recently been renovated. Not enough cash to complete it. It is a lovely little church, and it looks so odd tucked in around the banks, stations, pubs and fast food places.
I was supposed to do some work last weekend. That pile of files? Four reports that were due. Do you see the problem? Unsurprisingly the reports didn't get written that day, since removing the cat is usually more trouble that it is worth. She likes to remove the paper from files, in the hopes of finding a paperclip she can play with. Maybe I should use Ellie more ofter as a paperweight? Maybe not - she is a little on the small size. Charlie and Ozzie would make far better paperweights and they are far less excitable.
Willow had yet another vet appointment last Saturday. This is the road leading to the Forest, and we have just left my village. I take that road most days as it is the quickest route to the motorway, the nearest town and pretty much anywhere we want to go. We live in a pretty bit of country!
Apparently there are such great mushrooms to be found there that you need a licence to go mushrooming now. We plan on taking Lila for some long walks there when the weather is a little better. It turned pretty manky today, so I imagine another couple of weeks before we go. She doesn't like puddles very much. She gets all freaked out when her feet disappear. It is very funny to watch her barking at puddles though. And the wind. And the rain.
Time to catch up on the washing. Or not. I am lazy and despite intentions to the contrary, often leave the weeks washing until the weekend. I try to keep it in piles, and have the next load ready in the basket to take downstairs. This is a fairly common sight in our house, but had to be caught on camera. Frankie is very partial to a snooze in the washing basket and this held me up. I COULD be mean and boot him out (although I usually just use the basket with the cat in it), but since washing is not my favourite past-time it was pretty easy to find something else to do. Those reports perhaps?........
Maybe not. Charlie has recently discovered the delights of Spider Solitaire and is getting quite good. He won that game. Moving Charlie usually results in a bite. He might be a cuddly cat at night but he doesn't like to be interrupted when on the computer. If you look closely under the game in progress you can see the report I was trying to write. I turn my back for one minute and the cat nicks the computer! Well, the reports weren't that urgent anyway............
Gardening is the new love of my life. I used to kill most things I grew, but somehow I have managed to develop a nice set of greenfingers.
So I decided to check on my garden. I check every day, in case we have another millimetre of growth, or another snail invasion taking place . It turns out the Baron has been lobbing snails over into next doors garden and so they keep coming back. I prefer to feed the snails I get to the local ducks.
So I decided to check on my garden. I check every day, in case we have another millimetre of growth, or another snail invasion taking place . It turns out the Baron has been lobbing snails over into next doors garden and so they keep coming back. I prefer to feed the snails I get to the local ducks.
Potatoes. I checked today and the plant has now grown over the top of the barrel. We have two of these barrels.
Runner beans, part two. The first crop died as we planted them way too early.
Parsnips, garlic, spring onions, red onions and chives. Oh, and leeks as well.
Carrots, more garlic (middle terracotta pot) and strawberry bushes.
Lettuce.
The Baron's beloved fellow artichokes, under their little cloches. He saw a sketch on tv referring to "my fellow artichokes" and it stuck. I have no clue what it means, but if it keeps him happy....and quiet then I am happy to go along with it!
Unfortunately the weekend went too quickly and Monday found me heading into London for some work. So off I toddled.
That is the rail at Moorgate tube, Northern Line. It is not supposed to have six inches of water under it. I wonder where all the little mice went that day? Anyway, that "little" puddle caused several hours worth of delays for thousands of people. I eventually got to work.....
Home time.
Liverpool Street Station.
The next couple of days were spent in London doing various bits and pieces. And this is where I got a little carried away. The dangers of a camera phone!
I was a bit rushed for time on Wednesday so I didn't get to do what I really wanted to. I was at Kings Cross and I really wanted to take a picture of platform 9 3/4, but I had to run to the Thameslink platform. This is the station though.
I received many of my exam results outside that station - we had to wait for the early delivery of the next day's newspaper to see if our names were in it. If they were, we had passed. If not, tought titty. I spent a good few hours crying outside that damn station.
On the way to a residential centre in South London.
On the way home. This was taken coming over Blackfriars Bridge. If you look into the distance you can see Tower Bridge.
A better picture of the cathedral from the top of the 26 bus. If you were standing on those steps you would be looking down Ludgate Hill.
A typical London view. The bus is coming up to Bank, and that is the Erotic Gherkin in the background. A great mix of contemporary and classic architecture.
Bank isn't drunk. The bus was turning. It's bloody hard taking a picture on the top deck going round corners!
Just past Bank gives a better view of the narrow streets. The bus is getting towards Liverpool Street.
This is St Ethelburga's Church opposite Liverpool Street. It was destroyed in the 1993 Bishopsgate bomb and has only recently been renovated. Not enough cash to complete it. It is a lovely little church, and it looks so odd tucked in around the banks, stations, pubs and fast food places.
Friday, 29 April 2005
Thursday, 28 April 2005
First Harvest
We harvested our first lettuce today. It was scrummy!
We have another six in the ground that are ready to eat, and twelve more under cloches that are looking promising. I'm going to start another tray off this weekend.
The peas and beans are looking really good, as are the strawberries, garlic, artichokes and onions. My carrots are a few weeks away from first harvest, and the potato barrels are looking impressive. The parsnips went out today.
In the conservatory, we have broccoli, cabbage, melons, celery, tomatoes, peppers, courgettes and cucumbers at various stages. The broccoli and cabbage will be planted in a few weeks. The rest are in pots and will be moved outside once the weather is more stable.
I still have a few things to sow. I bought some swede, perpetual spinach and yin and yang beans to plant.
That was my first ever lettuce. And possibly the nicest I have ever had!
We have another six in the ground that are ready to eat, and twelve more under cloches that are looking promising. I'm going to start another tray off this weekend.
The peas and beans are looking really good, as are the strawberries, garlic, artichokes and onions. My carrots are a few weeks away from first harvest, and the potato barrels are looking impressive. The parsnips went out today.
In the conservatory, we have broccoli, cabbage, melons, celery, tomatoes, peppers, courgettes and cucumbers at various stages. The broccoli and cabbage will be planted in a few weeks. The rest are in pots and will be moved outside once the weather is more stable.
I still have a few things to sow. I bought some swede, perpetual spinach and yin and yang beans to plant.
That was my first ever lettuce. And possibly the nicest I have ever had!
Saturday, 12 February 2005
Loose ends
OK.
River Cottage is a TV show. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall upped sticks and went to live in the country. He grew all his veg, raised livestock and basically lived as a true smallholder. Great TV, and very inspirational for those into that kind of thing.
Ozzy is here and there will be pictures soon. For some bizarre reason all the cats are accepting him and he is currently stationed on my bed with the others. Frankie has already groomed him, which is pretty damn amazing. He is a sweet boy, and I am sure that Harvey had a paw in me finding him.
There will also be pictures of our new water feature soon, but the garden is in a mess because we had to remove a tree today. As you do. So when it is respectable, you will see the shrine to Star Wars.
I may have planted all those seeds, but Miss GreenFingers I am not. Most things I grow die, and I am not holding out much hope for the veg. However, the Baron is in charge of all plant stock as of now, under the supervision of my parents (Veg Growers Extraordinaire) and so hopefully we will actually get some veg out of all this.
Our garden isn't huge by any means (our garden is smaller than a double garage) but with a combination of raised beds, hanging baskets and lots of containers we are able to grow an awful lot. I also have some sunflowers to plant, and those will probably go out the front, near Harvey's grave.
The weather has been pretty mild - we have had daffodils already and a couple of trees have gone into bloom. It is great that we are able to start now, and we are really excited! I checked the seeds I planted during the week and my broccoli is looking good.
So other than the general election, this will be a good spring!
River Cottage is a TV show. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall upped sticks and went to live in the country. He grew all his veg, raised livestock and basically lived as a true smallholder. Great TV, and very inspirational for those into that kind of thing.
Ozzy is here and there will be pictures soon. For some bizarre reason all the cats are accepting him and he is currently stationed on my bed with the others. Frankie has already groomed him, which is pretty damn amazing. He is a sweet boy, and I am sure that Harvey had a paw in me finding him.
There will also be pictures of our new water feature soon, but the garden is in a mess because we had to remove a tree today. As you do. So when it is respectable, you will see the shrine to Star Wars.
I may have planted all those seeds, but Miss GreenFingers I am not. Most things I grow die, and I am not holding out much hope for the veg. However, the Baron is in charge of all plant stock as of now, under the supervision of my parents (Veg Growers Extraordinaire) and so hopefully we will actually get some veg out of all this.
Our garden isn't huge by any means (our garden is smaller than a double garage) but with a combination of raised beds, hanging baskets and lots of containers we are able to grow an awful lot. I also have some sunflowers to plant, and those will probably go out the front, near Harvey's grave.
The weather has been pretty mild - we have had daffodils already and a couple of trees have gone into bloom. It is great that we are able to start now, and we are really excited! I checked the seeds I planted during the week and my broccoli is looking good.
So other than the general election, this will be a good spring!
Thursday, 10 February 2005
Cheery
This post will be cheery. I've been miserable for too long. Well, I am still miserable, but if I think cheery thoughts, maybe I will become cheery.
So without further ado, I bring you.....the cheeriness.
1. My birthday present arrived from my parents today. A little early, but 9 whole hours of River Cottage is just what a miserable Mouse needs. That and brownies, and they are in the oven.
2. My cycle has returned to normal. At last.
3. Our newest addition, Ozzy, will be coming home on Saturday. He has had a lot of teeth removed, and is recovering nicely from surgery.
4. Lila is doing well, and is biting a little less. The Boy's class have requested I take her in one afternoon so they can all see her, and I'll take any opportunity to educate kids about good animal care!
5. I have planted all my seeds for a bumper crop. We have:
carrots;
potatoes (pink fir apple and maris piper);
broccoli;
cabbage;
cucumber;
lettuce;
garlic;
onions;
spring onions;
peas;
french beans;
runner beans;
tomatoes (two kinds);
peppers;
leeks;
courgettes;
artichokes;
strawberries;
gooseberries;
raspberries;
chives;
chillies; and
a million different herbs.
My orange and lemon trees are doing better now that Charlie has stopped using them as a temporary litter tray. The olives are good too.
6. I have sorted out some easy work for next week. It is half term for the Boy, Valentine's day (14th), Charlie's adoptaversary (15th), my birthday (16th), and the Baron's birthday (18th). So I need an easy week!
7. We only have one more extortionate council tax bill to pay (they forgot to charge us for the first three months we lived here, so we have been paying double to catch up) and one more career development loan payment to make. Then we shall have some more money. Nice!
8. We now have a Boba Fett water feature along side Dart Vader. The fish seem unimpressed.
I think that is enough cheeriness for one evening. I wouldn't want to overdo it!
So without further ado, I bring you.....the cheeriness.
1. My birthday present arrived from my parents today. A little early, but 9 whole hours of River Cottage is just what a miserable Mouse needs. That and brownies, and they are in the oven.
2. My cycle has returned to normal. At last.
3. Our newest addition, Ozzy, will be coming home on Saturday. He has had a lot of teeth removed, and is recovering nicely from surgery.
4. Lila is doing well, and is biting a little less. The Boy's class have requested I take her in one afternoon so they can all see her, and I'll take any opportunity to educate kids about good animal care!
5. I have planted all my seeds for a bumper crop. We have:
carrots;
potatoes (pink fir apple and maris piper);
broccoli;
cabbage;
cucumber;
lettuce;
garlic;
onions;
spring onions;
peas;
french beans;
runner beans;
tomatoes (two kinds);
peppers;
leeks;
courgettes;
artichokes;
strawberries;
gooseberries;
raspberries;
chives;
chillies; and
a million different herbs.
My orange and lemon trees are doing better now that Charlie has stopped using them as a temporary litter tray. The olives are good too.
6. I have sorted out some easy work for next week. It is half term for the Boy, Valentine's day (14th), Charlie's adoptaversary (15th), my birthday (16th), and the Baron's birthday (18th). So I need an easy week!
7. We only have one more extortionate council tax bill to pay (they forgot to charge us for the first three months we lived here, so we have been paying double to catch up) and one more career development loan payment to make. Then we shall have some more money. Nice!
8. We now have a Boba Fett water feature along side Dart Vader. The fish seem unimpressed.
I think that is enough cheeriness for one evening. I wouldn't want to overdo it!
Sunday, 31 October 2004
The fruitful garden
We've cleared the garden out. We now have some fantastic beds ready to become a fully productive vegetable garden come spring.
The compost bin arrives tomorrow, my orange, satsuma, lime and olive trees are due to arrive later this week, and my chilli's are thriving, as are my herbs. Minus the bits that the cats have chewed out of them. I am also growing some catmint at the moment, and will start a tub of catnip off in the spring to keep them away from the other plants.
What else? Oh, a good friend of mine, and former neighbour, has just announced her pregnancy. I am very pleased for her, and we shall gloss over the small pangs of jealousy occurring. We are meeting up this week (though not for a drink as we normally would). She moved a few weeks before I did, and we haven't seen each other for quite a while.
I have signed the Boy up for a gymnastics class. He has been asking to go to it ever since he saw the Olympics, and since he found out I broke my arm in gymnastics class when I was little (why that is an incentive I don't know, but I don't pretend to understand the mind of a six year old boy). We have an hour's trial lesson on Wednesday afternoon. He doesn't know yet - it is a surprise.
Off to soak in a hot bath. Gardening is hard work, and my legs are starting to mutiny.
The compost bin arrives tomorrow, my orange, satsuma, lime and olive trees are due to arrive later this week, and my chilli's are thriving, as are my herbs. Minus the bits that the cats have chewed out of them. I am also growing some catmint at the moment, and will start a tub of catnip off in the spring to keep them away from the other plants.
What else? Oh, a good friend of mine, and former neighbour, has just announced her pregnancy. I am very pleased for her, and we shall gloss over the small pangs of jealousy occurring. We are meeting up this week (though not for a drink as we normally would). She moved a few weeks before I did, and we haven't seen each other for quite a while.
I have signed the Boy up for a gymnastics class. He has been asking to go to it ever since he saw the Olympics, and since he found out I broke my arm in gymnastics class when I was little (why that is an incentive I don't know, but I don't pretend to understand the mind of a six year old boy). We have an hour's trial lesson on Wednesday afternoon. He doesn't know yet - it is a surprise.
Off to soak in a hot bath. Gardening is hard work, and my legs are starting to mutiny.
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