Intangible Heirlooms

Gardening has got a hold on me.

At the end of my day I now say hello to my plant children and ask them how their days have been. I have joined my local horticultural society and am looking into horticultural distance learning courses. My "to read" list is awash with books about plants not to mention the fact that the local library's stock of books on the subject is half checked out by moi! I am reading Laeticia Maklouf's The Virgin Gardener at present which gives any new green finger little projects that will really set you on your way.

Over the past few months the seed packets have quickly accumulated while the free space on my windowsills has notably diminished. Last week I had to rein in my bubbling excitement when I received a cutting of my father-in-law’s lavender to grow on, sending me down the path of propagation. And finally, Alys Fowler, the gardening heroine of many and her TV show on the BBC called “The Edible Garden”…what an inspiration. She shows you how to fit tasty produce in a small space together with beautiful foliage, and on a budget to boot! Here are their blogs.

http://laetitiamaklouf.com/

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/alysfowler/

It seems that through time, space and memory I have been handed an heirloom, which is defined on dictionary.com as “A valued possession passed down in a family through succeeding generations.”

As I wait for my seeds to germinate and cuttings to take root I am accompanied by my parents and grandparents and the lessons thus far learned from Alys and Co. I can feel them looking over my shoulder. They must have felt the same things. Like me they must have wondered if the wonder would melt away into the mundane and usual. Oh how I wish I could plop my current self back down into that desk in biology class.

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Here are some photos of my progress.

My purple sprouting broccoli (x 2) is becoming acquainted with the outdoors and its first night under the moon was quite cold so currently I am concerned.

My thyme plants are showing personality in their movement towards light, being turned every which-a-way and developing at different rates.



My onions have shown bravery after a few late frosts.



Lemon balm is desperate to reach the heavens and proves that plants want to grow!


Salad leaves are having a bad hair day and impressing upon me discontent in their position on the windowsill. (Unless an expert can tell me otherwise!)



xx Laura