You may have seen recently noticed I posted on stories on instagram about the plight of my plot, not knowing where to begin and feeling rather overwhelmed. A feeling that happens almost every year when I have done little to no work over the winter period. Why it still comes as a surprise is beyond me…

I talk myself round with ‘it’s still early’ (a comment someone kindly sent me) but there are so many other projects to prep, continue and finish the ones that were never completed from last year. I pat myself on the back kindly thank me for the carry over workload, pull on my boots and begin to stand and stare… and slurp tea. It doesn’t look it’s best.

If in doubt, light a fire.

On it goes and I go about collecting all the dried and parched carcasses of last years flowers and plants. Have you ever burned eucalyptus? Watch those eyebrows! It should come with a government health warning! The fire furiously rises with jagged edges and then sedately plummets with every bundle I drop on top, mesmerising. By the end of the day I have cut down almost all of the plot.

By habit whilst reaching down to pull up the tinder for burning I turn to thoughts of nourishing the soil. As each bed becomes clear of the annuals, I grab a fork and pull any weeds out and then wheel barrows of manure, sable in colour and satisfying to spread. I feel smug (no idea why) as I have prepped and nourished one whole bed, 11 to go.

I did what I call a cardinal sin, I left my dahlias in the ground, something I have never done before. I go about lifting some of them to see if any have survived and so far, out of 30 lifted, only 1 has completely gone to heaven. I immediately check my new orders and see that this very one, that had nothing but a dried stick of a stem poking out the ground is on this years list of dahlias bought. Sixth sense… perhaps?

I have 63 to go….

In memory of last years dahlia ‘Preference’

As each bed is cleared, I pick the beds for where the tulips will grow. Yes the tulips, I always plant later than most and it has always worked for me. A gamble that I feel may need to stop, as the change in the climate is increasing the milder weather. (Note made in the diary for November!).

I notice rotting wood posts and remove them which then entails moving the plants living against them, which then entails finding a suitable spot for them to be planted in, which then entails finding new uprights and digging new holes.

Problematic findings ensure I have only ticked 2.5 off a list of a life time of jobs.

I carry on to the other beds, wrestling with dead annuals stuck to growing nets as well as aluminium hoops can make a perfectly sane human… insane. I automatically think it is a conspiracy staring up to the sky, noticing the night is drawing in and I thank whoever is listening for this. I gratefully call it a day, the rest to burn will go the never ever ending list.

I never did dig up those 63 dahlias. (Notes added to the infinite list)

Until the next time

love Jane x

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