Digging in the dirt...

A wise woman once told me that to plant a garden is to believe in the promise of tomorrow – and she wasn't wrong. The minute you put a fork in the ground you are preparing it for a different future.  No longer bogged down in weeds and host only to bugs and parasitic vines, it becomes the starting point for seedlings, the foundation for anchoring roots and new shoots to appear and then before you know it, a few weeks or maybe months have passed, and you’re eating the fruit that has grown from the tiny seed you popped in that freshly dug earth, because you dared to hope it would grow.

There’s something that runs a little deeper though that seems to wake up when you grow things. Some throwback to when we had to grow food ourselves just to survive triggers and suddenly you feel way more connected to actual life. All of the issues you have as someone living in the modern world seem to shrink to the tiny foibles they actually are and you realise that, while you’re running around like a headless goose trying to make money and buy things you’re told you need, making sure you satisfy all the right people, life, real life, is going on all around you and to some extent you’re missing it. It is the ultimate lesson in patience, no plant can be rushed. I am obviously biased, but I think if we all took the time to plant something, invest a small amount of those precious minutes, hours, days that we have into nurturing some ‘real life’ we’d all be that bit happier. Or at least less chaotic.

So, yes, you've probably guessed that I have been in the garden this weekend. I dug over what will be our little herb garden. It surrounds the greenhouse and is nearest the kitchen so it seems the perfect spot. Admittedly there were bulbs and roots and bugs of every description in there, some of which will no doubt come back if left too long again, but I've managed to get it looking something like a prepared plant bed.

While I cracked on with that, my dad and D happily sat at the canal side enjoying the ‘father’s day fishing fest’ (as I had so poetically named it). ‘Fest’ is probably pushing it a bit... my dad caught several fish but none that anyone would call big! 

We all ate a thrown together BBQ (the first cooked meal at The Keep!) and, when we had a moment, myself and my step-mum measured the windows throughout the house so that she can begin work on the blinds.

Things are still moving forward. D and I have more conversations about how much concrete we need to order and how low our funds are running than we do about, well, anything… As our move-in deadline creeps ever closer the need to see big advances in the building work weighs heavy on us. It’s a time when you regret every new pair of pants and pack of crisps you've bought on a whim over the last 18 months, because right now every penny counts.

Beans on toast for tea anyone??

Come rain or shine, it'll still be mine.

G