Wednesday, March 31, 2010
I have dreamed about the plot, what I will do this season. Somehow in real life it never looks as I imagine it will.
I imagine pumpkin vines weaving their way up the edges of the plot (last year one was growing on TOP of the raspberry canes, I didn't spot it straight away).
I imagine beautifully straight rows of spuds, earthed up with geometrical precision (mine look like they have been planted by a drunk on crack).
I imagine pristine cabbages, glinting with dewy freshness (last year, I had to scoop out snails with my fingers and crush them underfoot, then wash out their poo with the watering can. the cabbages were tasty though, what was left of them).
Next time I see my little seedlings, so innocent and full of hope in their tiny pots, I will try and persuade them that it will be OK, they can grow, they will grow! they will resist the slugs and bindweed, they will not rot or get blight or be massacred by freak summer storms (like last year's aubergines)!
Then I will go and pop a few Valium before I get me wellies on...
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