Time locked potato, after the sea witch |
Here we are. It is early April. The sun is shining spring is
sprung and they are forecasting snow for mid week, (surely some mishtake? Ed).
I have gardened myself to a standstill. Sown spinach,
calendula, leeks, more leeks, tomatoes, aubergines (they never do for me but I
always try), cauliflowers, mangetout, sweet peas and cosmos. I have potted up
my rooted rose cuttings (well, some of them) and my penstemon cuttings. I have
been to the garden centre and bought lots of compost, and herbs and some borage
seed.
Most things are sprouting like mad. I drove down the
motorway to Bath the other day in the sunshine. By the time I drove back a
couple of hours later the hedges were conspicuously greener. Looking around my
own garden I’m always amazed that some plants hang on all through winter, struggling
a little but basically ok. The moment the weather warms up they can’t hack it
and turn their toes up, little roots not keeping up with the challenge of photosynthesis
and transpiration. Or maybe it is just vine weevil.
Which brings me to a sad story.
Last year I tried to grow new potatoes for Christmas – but they
got planted too late and then the slugs moved in, so that was a non starter.
Then I noticed some shoots coming up in the polytunnel. Genius. Christmas
volunteer potatoes (Red Duke of York, if anyone is interested). So one day when
it got cold I dug them up, small but perfectly formed. Then I forgot about
them. Then I bought them into the kitchen. And left them in the light so they
were inedible anyway.
My poor spuds then entered the ‘I really should do something
about that’ zone. Sitting on the sideboard. Red (well slightly green). Starting
to sprout. I have just noticed one is trying to flower which is the saddest
expression of optimism I have seen in a long time. It reminds me of the
mermaids that get got by the sea-witch in The Little Mermaid and turn into
wizened polyps, yet it is curiously pretty.
Also in the kitchen is a lovely big box of seed potatoes
that just arrived from Suttons - including Charlotte, Rocket, more Red Duke of
York, Purple Majesty and some others. I fear they are looking at the sad
potato-mummies with something akin to derision. Or perhaps it is just terror.
Either way, I get a completely different vibe from the David Austin roses that
are sitting next to them.
So I am going to put this failed and abandoned experiment
out of its misery. Send it off to the great compost heap in the sky. Hope
springs eternal, but sometimes even hope is not quite enough. Perhaps it is
art.
I love that photo...wow...it's a sculpture...amazing. Loving this spring...barefoot already :) x
ReplyDeleteMy best spuds are grown in the compost heap ;)
ReplyDelete