This is not meant to be. Plants in the potting shed and not in the ground. My aim in life is only to have one living thing in the potting shed at this time of the year – and that is a snoozing cat.
My priorities just haven’t been gardening this past month. Or two. So every time I go to the shed I feel a stab of guilt.
Oh that I could wave my wand and see all these plants hover up and file out the French windows, drift down to the three terraces below the shed and plant themselves into the orchard bank. They could even tuck themselves up with a thick layer of mulch.
And that only person is me. This past week I have moved them up yet another size, added some of my lovely homemade compost and soak them well so they can cope with yet more neglect.
But the big philosophical question is: can I cope with neglecting my garden? Some people just need to have their hands in soil. And I am afflicted with being away from what I love. And need.
Speaking of plants (so I can stop having this First World Problem and get on with paid work) I even have spares growing in the ground all over the farm. These are the self seeded eragrostis grasses that have chosen to turn up everywhere along the track and near the end of the orchard. I have been mowing very carefully around them for months.
They catch the light beautifully.
And a lovely lunch with Andrew resulted in the first of my bulb orders. Here are 500 narcissus thalia bulbs just dying to get into soil.
And here too are endless camassias, muscaris and tulips. I won’t spell out what I have, this is not the time; I’m actually sitting at my desk working on the Middle Ages.
So for now, I gaze at my garden from the 2D image and yearn for 3. But patience. One more week to go.