Progress in the potager

What do you call the gap between the top of your gloves and the band of skin where your shirt ends?

And what do you say when you get nettled?

The angry gap? A bit like a hungry gap in the vegetable garden in spring.

I have had an afternoon in the potager cutting back kales gone to seed; thinning the rocket, hunting out caterpillars, weeding and planting. And squeezing broad bean pods to see whether they are ready. (The answer, not yet.)

You get into such a rhythm pulling weeds – not many, but a few – that I didn’t think when I grabbed a long hank of nettles. Only to realize there was that gap. Ouch.

But that was the only sting in the day. (I’m in denial about the number of caterpillars I am squishing on the jostaberries. More on that sad and sorry saga for another day. Today is just a happy story.)

The potager is filling out.

I have planted a bed of tomatoes; added a few more to the aubergine bed.  There are sunflowers dotted about and I am weeding out poppies only if they are in the way of edibles.

Munching treats include a few strawberries and lots of mangetout peas.

I have a lettuce and spinach bed at the far end of the potager.  It has about a dozen climbing beans dotted throughout.

The plan is to have these beans grow up as high as the structure and then clothe the support, creating shade for the lettuce and spinach underneath.

Right now they are too titchy, so I have put a shade cloth over the top while the beans decide whether to take off. I think they will. I’ve tied twine to the support so the beans can climb.  And hopefully they will cover the structure before the lettuce bolts.

This year is much more promising than last year when the heat and drought had already throttled a lot of the plants. So all is well.

And hasn’t the raspberry bed gone mad? I’ve tied twine around the chestnut poles to try and keep those little scratchy blighters contained.  I don’t need more lacerations and scratches on those bare wrists.

And I have not been alone today. Artur is hard at work just on the edge of the potager keeping guard over a mole or a mole rat run. I’m not sure which it is, but I suspect it is no longer in use.  It doesn’t look madly fresh; but there must be some lingering scent as it has revived the hunting instincts in this old codger.