Move Over Brangelina - Here Comes Squom
Post categories: Sara's garden,Ìýpests,Ìýsquash,Ìýtomato
| 15:29 UK time, Friday, 5 June 2009
Did my first proper bit of gardening today. Since the birth of my patch I've not really had to do much other than sit back and watch, wonder, worry and wait. Apart from watering my veg and becoming a tour operator for my squash and toms (or "squom" to give them their showbiz couple moniker), my inner green goddess has been pretty dormant. The re-potting of my windowsill squom the other week doesn't count, as I now realise that wasn't so much gardening as plant abuse. They only just survived my rough handling - shoving their dry delicate roots into pots, soil flying everywhere - Ìýlike the gardening world's very own cookie monster. My poor squash bore the brunt of the massacre, ending up a bit like Michael Jackson: pale with bits threatening to fall off. The trauma of it all left me feeling a touch uninspired about this gardening lark.
With impeccable timing, Ann landed on my doorstep at tea-time today to give me a pep-talk
and some brocolli plants. The former did my confidence loads of good and the latter is now planted out in the patch. The planting out of squom unfortunately signalled the end of their relationship, as the tomatoes have now gone to live in the patch while the squash have their own place; a huge tub on the sunny side of the patio.
Feeling inspired by a combination of Ann's encouragement, the beautiful warm summer evening and a small glass of sauvignon blanc, I spent an hour weeding the patch; adding manure, planting out and generally tidying up. My back is aching. I've scratched my arm on my picket fence. My fingernails suggest I was raised by badgers. Overall, I feel great. I loved losing myself in the green stuff.
Also, I picked more lettuce and managed to unearth anÌýunearthly-looking white slug that came complete with its own milky transparent sleeping bag. Came over all Sigourney Weaver as I battled the alien slugmonster and lobbed it over the fence into my neighbour's garden. Screams of terror again rang out when, after washing and bagging my salad leaves, I noticed a small black slug clinging leech-like to the inside of my wrist! Drama aside, I feel back on track and out of my dip, would love to know if you've had similar adventures with your patches, pots and plots.
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