I need a plan

Let’s face it: I need a plan. This whole garden project has slipped into the lackadaisical, the outdoor equivalent of picking things up and putting them down again.

After yesterday’s pine cone scavenge, I stand at the entrance to the garden, look vaguely around, think about digging up the half assed tiny raised beds I made years ago out of some half assed bookshelves I’d built as a room divider which became surplus to indoor requirements.


Try lifting one of the planks, realise they are now fairly well embedded, decide to leave that for now, look vaguely around again, think perhaps I should do some digging over in the other corner to give some added definition to the rose (such as it is) bed.


The shovel keeps hitting rocks, which I pull out (bloody hell, there really are a lot of rocks in this soil), thinking as I do so, that this might be a good place to plant some herbs, as it is one of the first corners to get the sun (if and when it ever puts in an appearance). Quite like this idea, so persevere, despite all the stones. Get about a foot and a half down in the digging over of this tiny patch and hit something bigger than a rock.

Oh, bloody frigging hell, it’s a massive tree root. Is there any point in trying to plant anything here? Kneel on the ground staring despondently at my not very big patch of dug over soil (the quality of which I’ve done nothing to check on, despite Peter sending me instructions on how to do this weeks ago – must dig out that e-mail and take note). Give up and go inside. At least Treme is on this evening, so there’s something good to take my mind off how crap a gardener I am. (Can’t believe they killed off John Goodman’s character. Guess that’s why he’s always appeared as a guest star in the credits.)

And now I’m listening to the weather forecast: thunderstorms predicted for this afternoon. Well, I don’t care how wet I get. I am going to the garden shop today to buy some herbs. Getting something – anything – other than my little lilac tree and sad rose bush (and bloody weeds) growing in the garden will, I’m (fairly) sure inspire me to greater things.

I’m going to have to write to Peter, despite feeling so lame about how little progress I’ve made, and get some advice. I need a plan.