Day One: Dirty work

Okay, I’ll admit it.

After the triumph of my directorial debut with Inherit the Wind , I did waste some valuable gardening time sitting around resting on my arse (sorry, I meant laurels), but I knew I would be galvanised by the arrival of my friend Krys. And I was.

The day after she got here we hit the garden shops. There are two on Gabriola and I won’t name names. Suffice to say that two out of three of the last blueberry bushes I’ve bought at one have died. So, I figured I should go to the other to buy another one to cross pollinate with the survivor. But I couldn’t remember whether the other one sold seeds, so we went to the doomed plant shop first to stock up on seeds: beets, carrots, peas, scaloppini and acorn squash (hoping that these varieties, being smaller than butternut, might actually produce before the first frost killed them), lettuce and arugula (rocket). I haven’t attempted to grow rocket since the first summer’s disaster, but raised beds have raised expectations.

Then it’s off to the other garden shop to get a replacement blueberry bush, some topsoil and some compost. It is, for want of a better word, an entertaining experience. It’s a busy Saturday afternoon and a photo of the only woman working could be used as a perfect illustration of the word harried. Technology is conspiring against her. Every time she tries to take a debit or credit card payment, the machine is knocked out of action by an incoming phone call or fax (all running on the same phone line). When the payment machine is actually working, the customers whose orders are half rung in suddenly decides there is something else they must pick up, but apparently cancelling a transaction is too great a technological challenge, so we all wait patiently as petunias or pansies are fetched. I can’t help imagining the reaction of customers at a garden shop in the city. On Gabriola we just smile and shrug. We’re on island time.

When we eventually get back to the house, I suddenly realise that the badly-home-built bookcase, inherited with the purchase of the house, now surplus to requirements and leaning against the woodshed, could, in fact, serve as another raised bed. I am so inspired I immediately go out to the garden with a shovel and start digging a hole. I stop digging when it starts to rain, but not before discovering that the small piece of landscaping fabric left over from the large raised bed fits perfectly!

Back out to the garden the next morning to finish digging the hole for the new raised bed.

When it turns out the largest opening from the old bookcase requires an entire bag of top soil to fill it, I realise that I didn’t buy enough. Bugger.

So, back to the garden shop we go to buy more topsoil and some flowers for the window box.

The new raised bed is filled with soil and compost. (Oh, and aren't the stargazer lilies coming back nicely?)

Not one, but two new blueberry bushes are planted. Although it is impossible to see in this photo, there are lots of flowers with the potential to produce lots of blueberries (assuming the bloody birds don’t get them first).

Potted pink gooseberry transplanted in with some raspberries.

And now I do believe it’s time for a glass of prosecco with Krys.