The Sunflowers Cheering us on
By far and away the best thing I did this year was plant the sunflowers I can see out of my bedroom window.
The vegetable plot sits directly behind the house on our most exposed section of ground. It was an area we had aptly named "the football pitch" when we moved in. Its rectangular expanse with fencepost to fencepost lawn and a fine, level tilth spoke of ball games and kite flying. I imagined Kevin and I cheering on endless games from the sidelines.
Only, no one plays football in our - American or otherwise - we just aren't those sort of people. So it was just A Lawn. Too far from the house to be a place that we sat out in on those few dry summer days we are blessed and not quite large enough to get a running start for a kite, it really had no purpose other than to be mowed.
the garden in 2021
My bedroom window looks out on to the lawn and it caused me no end of stress each time I climbed into bed. I felt like it had to be watched constantly for the point at which the endless catch 22 cycle of grassy expanses- if it got too long we could no longer cut it and if we couldn’t cut it, it wouldn’t be A LAWN.
During those years, we crammed as many vegetables as we could into a soggy corner of the garden across the farm that had previously been the farm's bull pen. We inherited it with the bare bones of what makes a veg plot - big raised beds, thriving black currants and a southern aspect. A carpet of mint and a few leggy swiss chard plants indicated it had grown vegetables before.
We learned quickly that the garden was really a mere scraping of mud sitting on solid rock. As soon as it rained, the garden turned into a pond. We built raised beds on bases of old straw bales to stop the plants from floating away in the burns that sprung up every time it rained. Going to in harvest usually meant losing a boot to the swamp between the beds. Each year we managed to salvage enough to keep us in vegetables for the summer high season, but not much else.
It wasn’t enough.
Anxiety around not having enough food in the house is one I find tough to shake. It had happened before, as a young mother to 3 babies I had lost my job and didn't know how we were going to fill the cupboards. We made it through that time, but the insecurity is something that I carry with me a decade later.
Growing food is one of the ways I shore myself up against ever feeling that sort of hopelessness again and the pandemic hit that nerve hard. It also shed light on the ridiculousness of that empty playing field.
Over that spring (with a lot of help) we transformed the lawn into our main garden. Eight rows, each 30 metres in length and about 1.8 metres wide to grow the vast majority of vegetables for ourselves, our events, soapmaking and with extra to sell (or it would, if the goats didn't periodically get in to eat their way through the brassicas and beans).
We are now in the 3rd year of this garden. The first two of those years- fuelled partially by a pandemic filled angst about the state of the world, I only planted vegetables. "Flowers are a luxury we can't afford in these unprecedented times," my brain told me. I crammed every vegetable or fruit I could into that space. I must've grown my weight in cauliflower many times over and could easily have fed the whole village on potatoes.
It felt like something I could actually do in the face of so much uncertainty. I couldn't solve many problems, but I am a decent gardener and I felt comforted to know that I had filled every available space in my life with food - should the shit hit the fan and our business folded or a neighbour was in trouble, I would have enough kale to feed us all.
But we made it through those times - somehow. We pivoted and changed and sold flour and moved online and were able to fill our cupboards the whole way through and somehow the anxiety faded day by day.
So this year, I planted flowers. Just a few patches - some sunflowers I'd bought as plug plants in a sale. Rudibekia - or as I know the Black Eyed Susans, and some poppies. In the old veg garden, I planted up a few trays of sweet peas a friend gave me on a drier than bog patch.
Ironically this year was much more difficult than those of closures of the pandemic and some weeks the vegetables might have been the better options, even if just to help prop up the weight of everything that felt wrong in the world.
But even as things got hard, I could look out the window and see the sunflowers shining their guts out in the veg garden.
Standing where we would’ve stood watching the kids play football, but instead the flowers have been cheering us on.
Now is the time to plant spring bulbs if you are in the Northern Hemisphere.
I have given up growing tulips, as they are nothing but beautiful snacks for goats around here, but they and daffodils are best planted now as they need the cold to flower next year.
If you are ever looking for bulbs (spring and summer bulbs should be planted this time of year) dutchbulbs.co.uk is miles cheaper than anywhere else. They do have a small order surcharge, but its still worth it in comparison to most other sites and we just pitch in and order bulbs with friends.
It is also time to plant garlic. I am working up the motivation. Hardneck varieties did best for me this year - plus I love the scapes they throw in summer so that is what I am putting in.
We have a garlic planting guide on the blog if you need a bit of guidance. https://garturstitchfarm.com/blog/kvfrt1g4gfpgp66kajqvlu2ppu0mez
Thanks for reading Life in The Making!
