A Country Diary – 47
3 July 2006
TODAY I wandered though my raised beds in my little edible garden, marvelling at the bounty hanging from the branches, and those lines from Andrew Marvell’s The Garden came to mind: “The nectarine and curious peach, into my hands themselves do reach.” The peas have reached over six feet and many pods are forming. We have been eating broad beans from the pods, either cooked with bacon or raw in salads. I have been collecting a bowl of strawberries every evening, and although there have been a few losses to slugs, the damage is nothing like as devastating as last year. I think maybe picking in the evening, before the slugs have come out but when the strawberries have had all day to ripen, may help matters. My wild patch, where I scattered a few unidentified seeds from the bottom of my seed box, is giving us enormous amounts of spinach, and there are two sunflowers growing out of the mess, as well as two pea plants. I have also seen carrots and onions pushing through in the shade, so it will be interesting to see whether they do well. I have planted nasturtiums around the place. No flowers yet, but the leaves are good in salads.
I HAD ALSO sown leaf beet and planted lettuces in the wild patch, and all are doing well. There are one or two signs of slug damage but nothing serious. I wonder whether they are being deterred by the ring of garlic I put around the outside of the bed. The French climbing beans have finally got going. I had to correct my Dad yesterday, who said, “they’re not doing very well”. I defensively pointed out that they were merely sown a bit later than the other crops. I transplanted a healthy-looking kale plant but the following morning it had been destroyed by slugs or snails. I don’t understand why they left it alone in its original position and then annihilated in its new position. I transplanted one more kale plant to the bottom of the potato bed and this one seems to have survived.
KALE WAS apparently a staple of medieval gardens, although in those days it was called colewort. I’ve been reading about medieval gardens and what they used to grow there. What is immediately clear is that in the Middle Ages, gardening was carried out according to what today we might call organic or permaculture principles. They grew vegetables on raised beds, didn’t worry too much about weedings. They mulched and companion planted. They encouraged all manner of birds and insects and other animals. Obviously there were no oil-driven machines or chemicals. They worked with nature and not in competition with it. They also seemed fond of lazing about and playing the lute. Adjoining the vegetable garden would be what they called a herber, a small garden for lounging around in. The herber would often feature a tunnel arbour and a sort of C-shaped turf covered brick bench, which you could either sit on or recline against. Wild strawberries grew on the lawn. Another common feature was a trellis with red and white roses trained all over it. I intend to recreate all these wonderful ideas somewhere in our garden and I will report on progress.
THE OTHER night I arrived home in the evening to find a beautiful white pony in our yard. This pony, which looks to me like a unicorn, and which Delilah immediately called magical, is a loan from Lucy, Victoria’s cousin, and very grateful we are too. Victoria has already taken it out galloping over the fields. All she needs is bells on her toes to complete the picture and by the way, people really did wear bells on their toes in medieval times. It’s not a myth. Anyway, with the two bunnies hopping around, and the chickens and the cats, not to mention the swallows, sparrows and wagtails, we’ve got quite a menagerie in the yard. Now I am planning doves and peacocks. All these animals are excellent childcare aids, as they are all an inducement for the kids to go outdoors and away from the dreaded computer. Muni the pony is about twenty years old but still seems strong. She also seems gentle which is handy as Henry has not yet got the hang of gentle stroking and tends to remove fistfuls of fur form domestic animals. Delilah has already fallen off the pony while not wearing a hat which made us feel rather irresponsible. Other than that, Milly the cat brought in a newt this morning. Its tail had already fallen off. I picked it up and it opened its mouth wide, bled a little and expired. Mandy the cat, who you will remember was mentally scarred following an attack by two terriers and a whippet, has been coming around a bit more. She even let me stroke her yesterday. Clearly her nerves were completely shattered by the experience and the mental healing process will take a while. But that’s OK. We’ve got time.
"The answer to how to live is to stop thinking about it. And just to live. But you're doing that anyway. However you intellectualise it, you still just live."