Grandpa Haxnicks would like to introduce you to The Potty Gardener talking to anyone who will listen, mostly herself....
Hello from The Potty Gardener!
There is definitely an air of spring on its way this morning. No sign of a frost, some chirpy birdsong and a glimpse of sunshine. Of course, it won’t last but it is fuelling enthusiasm for my new project.
The kitchen table is strewn with gardening magazines awash with smiley, rosy cheeked experts inviting me to join in their plant-based passions. 'Sow', 'Create', 'Transform', 'Cultivate', 'Titivate', 'Rotavate', 'Motivate'! Further fuelling of enthusiasm for my new project.
So what is my new project, I hear you ask (or is that just the voices in my head?)? Well I'm quite happy talking to myself…potty, completely potty….and that is my new project. The potty garden. This year I am going to grow everything in pots, planters and bags. Why (voices in my head again)? Not because I am potty, but because I am living in a rented property where every inch of growing space is a knotted nightmare of ground elder roots. It invades the dry stone walls, penetrates the weed matting and is resistant to roundup. But it is possible to be motivated to sow, create, cultivate, titivate (maybe not rotavate) without the garden.
I am making a plan that starts with potatoes in planters, but that ultimately helps me to get growing and glowing like they do in the magazines. I want my pink cheeks to match the flowers in my garden like Carol Klein, to use my hands as spades like Monty Don and develop an organic grin as satisfied as Bob Flowerdew, so watch this space!