March 27, 2013
March 10, 2013
Spring has caught me and I feel like it is a rip tide. It is pulling me along and it is futile to fight it, better just to see where it takes me. The hedges are beginning to bud and the bees are beginning to buzz. It’s a tide of time rushing through the backdrop of the garden around us.
While I watch the sap rise around me I have found pockets of fine weather and time to do some pottering in the garden. The little man supervises me from his seat on his bike. I dig, he shouts out a narrative of my activities and of the world around him. He gets his boots muddy when it suits him; when he can tear himself off his bike.
chitting potatoes on the window ledge
All the digging and planting seeds has got me reading about gardening. I have always read about growing vegetables but read about gardening itself, But now I have found Monty. Monty Don is someone who I always thought just made television programs. I was wrong, he is a writer first and so far I am hooked. He is my new mentor. Sorry Hugh, I will never forget you.
Monty Don by Marsha Arnold
I was so inspired that I treated myself to a new spade and a new fork. I spent some time deliberating over my choice and lifting one spade then the other, then the original one, then the other. I repeated this with several spades for a ridiculous amount of time. I have no shame in this as it will be my spade. I have a collection of spades and forks, but the strange thing is that I can’t recall ever buying one. Spades and forks seem to have just found themselves a home here when their original owners moved on to other forks and spades. They will still be loved here, and called upon to turn over the earth.