The Garden Where The Praties Grow

Job done

Today was a good day and I started preparing for it yesterday when I persuaded Bert that he and I should begin our outdoor potato drills. He had many objections.

We haven't any seed.

We'll go and see Frank at Slemish Market Garden and buy some.

It's an awful lot of work for just the two of us.

And aren't we well able for it?

There was chat about leaving it to Monday but when the weather forecast was consulted I decided that it was Sunday or never.

We went to the Slemish Market Garden and were as impressed as always. I can't wait to sneak back another day and gather up some more perennials for my decorative garden. Not today though because we were in serious vegetable mode.

I had some misgivings myself at the start. It was a lot of work. But we got into it, not minding the dogs that were hanging around relaxing while we worked like dogs. There was rotavating, and dung spreading and dropping and earthing. Rachael turned up with an hour to spare and then there was a frenzy of dung spreading and spud dropping. Rachael works at a speed no ordinary mortal can compete with. After the potatoes she sowed beans in moments and then dashed off to pick up daughter from one place and husband another place.*

I've learned a lot from that girl. She believes in working hard and fast. From her example (and FlyLady) I have discovered that most dreary household tasks actually take tiny amounts of time to complete, compared to the amounts of time a person might put in atrophying in front of a computer screen. For example I have discovered that I can mop my scullery and hall in less than three minutes. Impressive? I certainly thought so.

So after around four hours we were able to look at what we had achieved and feel rather pleased with ourselves. Those potatoes are going to taste very good. The first ones ever in my life that will be seasoned with the memory-scent of well-rotted dung and fresh sweat.

As I said, it was a good day, one I was glad of. The day before was a good enough day too. I spent a good part of it with my mother. She had a big setback this week and is not the better of it yet, although she is better than she was at the start of the week. She has been in bed continuously all of last week, too weak to get up. Her urinary functions are not going well and she has a catheter fitted. She is rather confused but still knows who everyone is and knows what is going on. I'm afraid that she will not gain back the ground she has lost. But.... she is still Matty, she still gives her family, her carers and her visitors beautiful welcoming smiles and yesterday she put a bet on the Grand National and had fish and chips for her tea.

* the pub