This weekend, you can call me Arthur Job.
I did start most of the jobs I said I’d do on my last weekend of freedom, but I didn’t finish many.
The water butt didn’t quite make it, but we’re nearly there. I concreted in some big stones for the butt to sit on, but I’ve got to wait for that to set before I can start harvesting my own rainwater.
But more on the butt later.
I was chuffed to get hold of four hazel poles to begin building my squash growing structure. They went in, but I didn’t go looking for any willow to complete the construction.
I didn’t get any molehill soil, either. This has currently broken down as I’m not sure how I’m going lug bags of the stuff home, given the molehills’ miles-from-anywhere location.
I did sow broad beans and chillis though and carried out a thoroughly satisfying declutter of the greenhouse. We’re all ready to sow in there now.
Best of all, I spent some wonderfully gratifying time in my little garden, thinking about the future and imagining junior helping me on the plot.
And whilst I was at it, I spotted a few heartwarming signs of spring:
The chives are coming back:
My blueberry bush is budding, which is a relief. I thought I’d killed it.
And most exciting of all, rhubarb!