Many a hot summer holiday’s fun activity was being dragged around sticky greenhouses and garden centres… as a typical moody teenager, it wasn’t my idea of fun!
However, since moving to the farm, I’ve been getting itchy green fingers – which sounds like a disease in itself! I pestered Dad for where I could have my vegetable patch, and it was unanimously agreed that instead of a patch, I could have a raised bed. Then nothing much happened, beyond me dreaming of winning the village show with my excellent courgettes and fabulous onions, despite Nana buying me a trowel set and a pair of pink gardening gloves for Christmas. Then, lo and behold…
Here you can see the two – yes, TWO! – beds have been marked out with the sleepers that Ma and Pa went to fetch from a nice gentleman who was something difficult to find.
Naturally, of course, being on a farm, we have access to pretty decent manure:
So the next step is to get ’em dug up and filled in!
And here is the first bed, full up! The soil was top soil shaken off the fodder beet out of one of our fields, and hence still comprised of a good few chunks – the barrow is full of the biggest bits.
So far, I am dead chuffed with it! And bloody knackered. And so, on that note… off to dream of shovelling manure and where to plant my crops!