The rare sunlight has soaked into my very being and the fine mist of compost tea into my absent-minded mouth. Yes, Dear Reader, that very rare February day appeared and though I ventured forth filled with trepidation and expectations of sudden showers it held all day. I managed to clean up a lot of the garden, the laurel at the back of the greenhouse are mostly done, but already they are letting in much more light. I do them by hand and with a cutter, but as I have to just stand in front, nowhere for a ladder and my balance isn’t that good, it takes some careful sidestepping and fore-thinking. Turns out my hedge-shears has an extension function, who knew? Me, if I’d read the instruction, but hat’s was a year ago, Dear Reader, I didn’t have time etc! A little cleaning and filling of pots and the garden starts to take shape. Another pot has been prepared for potatoes, still chitting, I’m being patient, as opposed to stupid, and will try to keep the leaves vertical this year to save space and see if it increases productivity. Have to try everything I can, Dear Reader. The ginger is getting green and larger, I think I may see the beginning of roots, but I might be mistaken.
I still love the crunch of stones beneath my feet. The whole garden has started to come to life with this one day, everything seems to have suddenly appeared. Never underestimate good lighting, Dear Reader, a sunny day buoys the mood immeasurably. I filled my pump-sprayer, newly fixed with new straps and zip-ties, with neat compost tea and gave the garden, and thanks to the wind, myself, a gentle misting, I only have one double head for spraying, which I hope will either leech into the soil or feed it via the leaves, it can’t hurt. I have already fed and composted the garden, but there’s a reason it blooms so long. The compost tea is great, but as the compost is emptied and used quickly, no letting any of the teeming life within die, I can’t brew it with any consistency, which is where comfrey will hopefully come in again.
I did have no argument, not so bad as to mar the day thankfully. A group of rowdy teens, some adults who should know better and a gaggle of young un’s were being disruptive while I harvested some compost for the potato pot. They kept leaping into the scoop and hitching a ride on it to…hmm? Yes, Dear Reader, I’m talking about the worms, who else? They have multiplied to extremes and look as content as anything with no discernible facial features can look content. I need to empty a tray at some point, but there’s still room enough and time enough to leave them be. They were a worthwhile investment, where the bokashi went nowhere fast, it works but is only useful in special circumstance, the worms work hard. They break down the scraps at a rapid clip and the leachate gushes out in plentiful supply. I like making my own feed and I’ll use this through the year. The next stage is finding a comfortable spot outside for them, not too hot, nor too cold and nowhere I could knock them over. I’ll get to that eventually, all things in time, Dear Reader, until later then, take care.