liberation deliberation

It’s clouding over again after a hot and sunny start. I’m continuing where I left off yesterday, I suppose you could call it weeding - although this always conjures up a picture of kneeling at the edge of a flower border pulling out freshly germinated weedlings (which maybe says more about my family than anything) – my kind of weeding involves pulling up willowherb, nettles, thistles all about shoulder height and some creeping stuff, that must have been the inspiration behind Velcro, together with columbine binding it all together. However, apart from creating hard to dispose of enormous piles of debris, there is an amazing sense of liberation because it means I can start to walk around my allotment again and, more importantly, the plants can experience the light of day. I had no idea how many nearly-ripe blackcurrants there are.

What I think was a kestral just flew over clutching prey in its talons.

grasping nettles

4th July 2007

I’ve spent the last 2 days at home waiting for a significant pause in the rain, unrequitedly. I decided last night to come here this morning regardless of the weather and it seems to have been a good decision – only one brief shower in 3 hours – despite a glowering sky.

I’m very conscious of my neighbours since my plot has turned into a wilderness, a wonderful, fruiting, flowering wilderness but from outside I realise it communicates a total lack of control. This, of course, isn’t a great concern to me but I appreciate I am unusual in my approach to gardening. So, I decided during a fit of paranoia earlier to engage in some community-building and delivered broad beans and raspberries as well as sunflower and tomato plants to my bungalow neighbours. This gesture has been very well received.

As well as this I’ve been ‘grasping nettles’ - a therapeutic activity – and filling one of the 3 sections of my compost bin. Now I’m wondering where to plant my cucurbits (marrow, pumpkin, squash) and brassicas (kale, turnip, brocolli) seedlings. There’s digging to be done!

I’m wondering how my rhubarb is but visiting it would involve negotiating a spiky, impenetrable jungle of thistle, nettle and teazle and will have to wait for another day.

Just had a friendly visit from one of the recipients of my harvest earlier who’d come to thank me again and see what I’m up to. I showed her round as far as is possible and asked her to tell me if anything my side of her fence ever causes her a problem. She assured me she’s very easy going. “if you enjoy it that’s everything”, was her comment on my preference for digging rather than rotovating

3pm – Just made some coffee and snacked on broad beans- it’s a long time since breakfast – thunder is rumbling (as well as my stomach) and rain seems more determined than earlier today. It’s time to go home.

unaided progress

28th June 2007

I’ve felt I’ve been absent for months and on returning this seems to be evident. One of the advantages, however, of working with living media (as opposed to paint/canvas etc.) is that it continues the process of creativity without me…

…a blackbird carrying a lump of white bread as big as its head just flew into a patch of nettles and bindweed to the left of me and now to my right there’s a young bird in my potato bed being fed by its parent…

…I’m quite sure my allotment neighbours must all despair at my lack of desire for control within my plot, but they can’t deny its fruitfulness. When I remember a couple of months ago I was waxing lyrical about how I would miss the wildness if I ever eventually manage to control it, the chances of this ever becoming an issue are laughably microscopic.

Anyway, for the first time this year (apart from a few radish) I am harvesting – broad beans, endive, chicory and more radish

dead or alive?

I’ve just weeded, thinned and transplanted my red and green cabbages – a satisfying task as I was ambivalent about their germination only a few weeks ago. I’m hoping the same will happen with my squashes, pumpkins and courgettes that all seem to be reluctant to hatch.

I could be feeling despondent about the amount there is to do so now is the time to remind myself of why I’m here and to enjoy the wildness, its unpredictability and the fine line between success and failure. In other words to practice what I preach!

I certainly seem to be encouraging nature, so many birds and yes, a ladybird feeding on the black-fly that arrived on just a few of my broad beans.

The cabbages I transplanted seem to be playing dead, I’m hoping it’s just temporary shock. My rocket has failed to germinate and I’ve only one small coriander plant – so – I’ve sprinkled vast quantities of seed I harvested 2 years ago and watered them in, hoping some of these will take instead.

strawberry thief

Arrived here about 3.30, I’m tired partly due to the hot, muggy weather but mainly as I’ve been working solidly on my written research followed by website construction. I’ve realised in writing this that my hands are trembling, probably too much computer contact. So, I’m sitting down with a cup of instant soup and some freshly pulled radishes that are the only immediately edible food here at the moment.

The strawberries are doing well but I see the ripe ones have been lunch to another visitor.

all too brief update

It’s 8pm and this is a short visit to water in-shed and also tomatoes and celeriac that are very dry. I’ve been in my studio for the last 5 days writing and I’ve lost touch with the weather – so much change in so few days – these wonderful poppies I’ve been waiting for and my indoor French bean sowing, 100% more successful than the outdoor attempt. Now I’m being called away…

early morning live art

Now 10am – arrived here at 7.15 driving through low-level bright mist. The sun is now properly breaking through.

Middle daughter arrived just after me as planned with two friends from her live art group at university as well as her tutor a film-maker and a photographer (above are some of his images).

After tea, cake and chat we decided on a whispered-guided-tour becoming story-to-camera followed by making string and tea from nettles. Everyone left again after more cake to go with the nettle tea at 9.15 to be back at university for 10am.

Sitting in my shed thinking it all over and a sparrow just flew in, realised its mistake when it hit the wall and flew straight out again and into the nearby elder. Also just saw a wren - so small – foraging for something in the straw mulch under my broad beans then flying away with its prize.