My turnips nearly died, but I gave them the kiss of life...

I forgot to mention that it was me that nearly killed them. Note to self - always do your research before you start hacking away at live things. Turnips - need - thinning. Just because they have gone all bushy and wild does not mean they are "bolting" (where they flower too early). It just means there are three or four turnips at the bottom of a bush that looks like one! I took away many leaves... thinking I was thinning them down a bit when I realised my turnips had baby turnips everywhere. By the time I finsihed my crude hacking... and realised my mistake... the poor things look like I had taken all their clothes off... fashionable gardening.. this is not. If in fact, we are to relate this to fashion, my turnips looked like Jordan on a night out - nekkked.

So - all has turned out well, they are growing their leaves back... and have been suitably 'thinned' and maybe a little traumatised.

I must apologise for the lack of writing, things have been rather hectic, I had to get my hanging baskets up, trim all the fiddly things off my sweetpeas, create some benches for my salads to sit on so they were not at the mercy of the EVIL snails and their twisted counterparts... slugs. Again - relating to fashion... these creatures are the doomsday police of fashionable gardening - they turn beautiful lush green leaves and preening petals into shaved, razored and disgustingly brown bits of gloop. So, in my battle to be organic... and not kill things I have used organic slug 'repellent'... and then I learned a lesson... and used organic slug 'killer'. Ok - now I feel like a serial murderer, but... I gave some lettuce and salad stuff to my neighbours as a karmic balancing of the scales - very Big Lunchesque.

My vegetable patch dear friends is looking splendid. So, in case you did not know... I am growing... Beets, Turnips, Leeks, Carrots, Spinach, Cauliflower, Potatoes, Runners, Peas, Egg plant, Sweetcorn, Tomatoes, Strawberries, Onions, Garlic and Rubarb (is that how you spell it?). Alongside this edible orchestra I am trying my hand at sunflowers and sweetpeas and hanging baskets and a jasmine climber (a smell that competes with the deliciousness of sunsets and freshly mown grass). The vegetables all had to have capitals to show the importance on the watering chain.

It's a real life lesson growing your own food, it's not just for Christmas... it's for a whole summer... and longer. It needs a babysitter when you are away, it needs feeding when the soil gets hungry - and most of all, it needs your attention, your skills and your love - they say not many things grow without love.

Toodle-pip

Jess

The survival instinct...

I hope I have instilled the survival instinct in my plants, gosh, I hope they have the will to live while I am not there nattering to them in the safety of my back garden. I have been gone for four days, what could possibly have happened? How bad could it be? Have they grown, have they fallen over, might they have drowned god forbid under my boyfriends over loving care? I am sure they are fine, they are thriving – does he talk to them enough? I think it helps you know, telling your seedlings and your little shoots about your day, I think they like it. How can I hold my Big Lunch if my plants don’t grow?

Actually, I am not being strange. You know how when you think of certain things you imagine how they work inside? It may be completely wrong, but you convince yourself that it is true and that it must be that way – even though you have never been told it. Like the TV, for years, I thought little people were transferred into TV boxes…. Obviously, my delusions were ruined when flat screen TV’s appeared. Well, talking to plants – in my head I think that the tiny little vibrations of my voice stimulate them, the little sound waves keep them motivated and growing, is it so wrong to deny yourself little delusions like that? It’s a bit like the think yourself thin theory – I am thinking my plants big.

I am writing this while sat on a train, I am very excited about seeing how much my plants have grown, I am keen to see if my row of leeks is growing bigger than the boyfriend’s row of leeks… it’s not a competition? Yes it is. Also, Cam and I are in competition as to how many of our neighbours we can get to agree to come to our Big Lunch. Some are a bit dubious - they want to know why we are doing this. I just tell them it’s because we can, because it’s lovely, and because I need someone to feed Megatron and Walter (my fish) while we are away, not forgetting asking someone to water our plants. (I hope they won’t drown them).

I am in Cornwall for two days then back to London for two days and then home for my birthday and then another week. I wonder if I will get that watering can I asked for… is it odd to want a watering can for your twenty fifth birthday?

When I left my sweet peas were standing up like little proud baby soldiers, I wonder if they have a uniform of leaves forming yet, or if they get chilly without coverage…. No frost – I think frost is bad, although if we had any I am sure I would panic, not to self – what happens when there is frost? Someone said actually that glass jars make great mini greenhouses, what a cute idea. I could have a city of green houses in my back garden.

Don’t get me started on green fly, black fly, purple and pink fly…. To be very organic you are supposed to pinch them out – but I think they hear me coming and hide….

I will let you know how they have all fared… what has not lasted… who was the weakest link…hopefully not my boyfriend, note to self, do not give him the silent treatment if he has murdered my plants… as of I would!

Cheerio

Jess x

Vegetable couture....

My gosh, maybe this is why I am alive. I am feeling like I am starting to fufill my reason for living... growing things! I have my first two shoots from my sweetpeas, it's more satisfying than a massive roast dinner, an open fire, a grand book and a fresh bottle of bubbly all in one. I have produced something wirth my tender loving care. Now I just have to keep my little shoots alive... this is where the hard work comes in.... (my designer clothes don't need looking after - but these plants certainly do). But actually, I am learning that growing your own is essentially quite cheap - once you have the gear (even if you have no idea) it's not that hard to sustain, I have my fingers and my hands, my eyes and my boyfriend... the rest is happening in little dribs and drabs and we are looking at a real great hobby to be taking up what little spare time I actually have. And what a way to spend it. Spreadeagled across the raised bed, mud on my face, knees rapidly sinking into the soil, mud up to my arm pits... and a big cheesy grin as I get as close to my sweetpeas as humanly possible, they must love me, they are growing.

Talking about designers, it's quite funny, I think that I am still making fashion choices even in the mucky business of being a virgin gardener. When I went to pick out my pots - I automatically wanted the most expensive ones, the massive terracota pots and the beautiful elegantly swaying urns. Even the twine I am using - instead of the nasty plastic looking green stuff - I went for the organically produced twine in natural straw.... gorgeous, hang on.... I am talking about string... organic string.

It's not just products that can be fashionable in gardening, the actual plants are too - sometimes it's just not trendy to be growing massive tomatoes, it's the dinky little cherry ones that are cool. Vegetable couture is becoming an obsession. I hope beets are 'in vogue' as my boss gave me some (along with a trowel and forky thing... thanks again boss) and mine are all lined up like a marching parade ready to grow big and strong.

I managed to get my hands on some free tomato plants today... I am so excited... hang on... I don't know what type they are... I hope they are fashionable....

Cheerio!

Jess x

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?)