The trials of top soil....

Well well, who would have thought it - I paid for mud! Not Kurt Geiger, not Gucci, not Yves Saint Laurant masacara, I handed over hard earned money... for mud.

Soil actually - and not just any soil, but great, 'proper good' soil that is going to feed my vegetables the food I can't. It's from under a house apparently, and very rich. Which is just as well because I am now considerably poor.

According to my secret team of experts (it's not what you know, it's who you know), it's worth investing in the good stuff so I bartered the chap down, he wanted £80 for two tons, I wanted to pay £30 for one ton, in the end I got two tons for 50 quid - and that's after he told me "you can't sweet talk me my ansum". Yeah right.

Now, I am not sure if it's because I am a girl, or because I had a dim moment, but I did not consider a few things... a, where to put the soil, b, a tarp to put the soil on, c, how to move the soil... well - I had a rough idea that the word boyfriend fits in there somewhere.

I rushed home from work (thanks boss for letting me off five minutes early), grabbed a rotting wheel barrow and a shovel (way to big for little me) and trecked home with the barrow precariously balanced in the passenger seat of my soft-top and the spade waving jerkily at all who dared laugh - it's a good look you know, country chic.

I also did not consider just how much soil two tons of soil is. I knew it was quite a bit.... but THAT MUCH? The chap - pocketed his money and proceeded to skillfully dump the soil in front of our garage on the road. It took about four hours to move it, I don't know what else we could of done, it was as good a place as any, the neighbours were amused.

My boyfriend was not.

Still, he rolled up his shirtsleves, gleefully rubbed his hands together and laughed at my latest effort to 'get something done'.

Ten cups of tea and sore everything later we washed the mud from outside our house and eachothers faces, returned the gardening tools to our friendly neighbours (see how gardening is uniting us already) and collapsed into bed - a job well done. I have the bestest, most supreme muddy patch in the world in which to play in, for some reason, this makes me more happy than the new shoes I got on Saturday... what's happening to me?

Watch this space for my vegetable picking dramas...

Tally ho!

Jess x

The vegetable diaries

Hi, I am a virgin, a vegetable virgin. I am twenty-four - and until now have never had more than a passing interest in growing food, why grow it when you can just buy it in Tesco?

Things have changed, I am growing up, I feel my roots spreading under my feet, my age is diversifying, I am like a carrot top - my hair is going ever so slightly green... and under the surface I am growing.

Part of the reason I have suddenly discovered growing my own is The Big Lunch - a project I am working on, it's amazing, it's all about connecting people - like trees that grow side by side - they can be two completely different species, but their leaves can still touch and be beautiful together. Check it out: www.thebiglunch.com.

So, I have decided to be selfish with my first grow off.... I am planting foods I like and that are easy (I desperately want the gratification of success). I have planted my strawberries, in a little pot, and they look so pretty - their little green leaves peeking up at me. I resist the urge to wipe the soil from their leaves after I lovingly water them. It's actually a little bit like having children - I now understand why middle aged mothers take up gardening after their kids have flown the nest. When my strawberry plants have strawberries, will I cry like a proud grandmother?

I have also planted sweetpeas, those beautiful wispy pretty flowers, I only know what they are because they are my Mum's favourite flowers, and yes, before you ask, I know they are not a vegetable.... but I wanted to grow something from seed to give to my Mum - look Mum - I can grow things - aren't you proud of me! (Why do I always revert to a child when it comes to showing Mum the things I am proud off - waiting for the praise... but I hate it when she tells me I should have done things a different way.... 'look what a mess you have made!').

I am also growing them to give to my neighbours on my Big Lunch, I thought that would be suitably nice - and then maybe they won't mind so much when my friends park en-mass on the road outside my house for our mini (of course noise-less) parties.

I am rather possessive about my little plants... for some reason, I don't think my ever so capable boyfriend would water them right (rationally - I know it's not hard)... but what if he drowns them... gosh - I wonder if this is a fraudian way of me not trusting him - but I do... he is amazing my man, and I must remember - this weekend he is building my raised bed.....

Toodle pip... (is that what earthy types write to sign off?)