I am slowly finding my new normal. On the evenings that Mr. Fairweather goes rowing, I wait until the Little Paddler goes to bed and then tear outside to burst a bit of work out. Bit by bit things are taking shape in my little pocket I have carved out in the middle of my sea of weeds.
The vegetable beds are coming on. I thought their little roots may have been overwhelmed by the manure. It wasn’t as crumbly as it should have been when I planted in to it. The peas seemed to have just been frozen in time for a while. The beetroot and spinach seemed to be floating around and I doubted they would take root at all.
I need not have feared. Things are looking good even if the peas are still a little slow off the mark. The courgettes are pumping flowers out and I hoping for fruit soon. The broad beans are slowly putting out pods and the runner beans are snaking up the bamboo canes.
I’m keeping a close eye on the broccoli and kale. I’m unsure yet as to whether they are going to be a success or not. In fact, I’m a bit more concerned about the onions I’ve planted in between everything. They are looking decidedly limp and dejected.
The tomatoes are holding their own in the straw bales. The potatoes are a bit on the slow side when I compare them to the neighbour’s crop, so I’ve stopped comparing.
It does my heart good to see progress. Sometimes I drag Mr. Fairweather outside simply to stand and admire my hard work. If he happens to tell me how impressed he is without any prompting – well that’s a bonus.
I’m tackling the tunnel next. It felt too big to do but I’ve found myself pulling away weeds so Little Paddler can hunt for strawberries and the clean up has progressed from there. I love that it’s one of those jobs where you can see progress. I need to see progress to keep me motivated.