The plot thickens

She's writing about her garden again

“Write about what you know”, they say, and I do know this: I’ve been spending most of my free time in my garden.

The time has come for it to take over a little again. Last year, the novelty of having our very own bit of earth to dig up as we pleased meant I neglected most other hobbies and passions (mainly writing) and spent most of my time learning how to grow seeds in our little lean-to greenhouse and fending off slugs.

It became an escape (and an obsession).

Not writing, but gardening

And friends, followers, flower folk – it’s happening again, but this time, the plot has thickened.

Quite literally – because now we have even more space to plant stuff, thanks to a wee makeover.

My favourite place to be

After a year of living in our first purchased home, we finally dug out some time in April to focus on giving our garden a little TLC. Our plans and desires were pretty modest and therefore, we hoped, doable – with the help of my green-fingered parents (who I think were more excited than we were at the prospect of days of uninterrupted gardening).

Our mid-terrace, urban garden was not a complete disaster zone when we moved in, but it certainly needed a little revival. The previous owners – a family of six – had prioritised learning and fun, and so the space was a mishmash of lovely nature-friendly features (a small raised pond, a wood pile and a hedgehog house) and an extremely muddy and balding lawn, which we assumed had seen some hardcore playtime (and several climbing structures - see the images below for proof).

After a year of getting to know the space and how we used it most, here’s what we had in mind for our to-do list.

• Weed and resow the top lawn.

• Turn the bottom section of the lawn, which was boggy, rocky, uneven and almost unsalvageable, into a raised-bed area.

• Make the aforementioned raised beds.

• Tidy the paving slab path and add gravel to make it easier (and less muddy) to walk on.

• Remove the beastly overgrown honeysuckle (which, despite being beautiful and bountiful, left one flower bed in permanent shade and was pulling apart our neighbour’s fence).

• Drain the weed-ridden mini pond and turn it into another raised bed/herb garden.

It sounds like we knew what we were doing, but we very much went with the flow, and were majorly guided by my dad, who, as ever, was a man with a plan (and several reclaimed scaffolding boards to hand).

Over two gloriously sunny weekends (three full days in total) we sawed, drilled, dug, sowed, lined, emptied, weeded and sweated. I developed a painful blister on the palm of my hand, which would not heal. Our thirty-something backs and knees were challenged. We were fuelled by Lidl baked goods and one enormous takeaway order, featuring a burrito-sized spring roll.

My generous parents helped us for 1.5 days, and we did the rest on our own, having learned the ropes (ie the art of laying the weed membrane under the paving slabs without losing their place). We’re so grateful and fortunate to have had their help – their time, energy, and expertise. We wouldn’t have known where to start without them.

It’s been about a month since we finished things, and I still can’t stop staring out of the window at it whenever I’m in the kitchen. I’m out there nearly every morning, every time I get a break from work, every evening when I don’t have to be elsewhere, every moment it’s not raining.

Honestly, I think it’s my dream terraced garden.

It’s a space I want to be in, all the time. It’s tidy, without being meticulous. It’s organised in a cottage-garden, rustic kind of way. It’s a garden for growing things, for cups of tea and drinks with friends. Being DINKS, (dual income, no kids!), we don’t need endless lawn space for football games or frisbee tournaments. We don’t have pets to accommodate, either – just my burgeoning penchant for growing vegetables, a flirtation with sowing cut flower seeds, and a desire to let nature do its thing (within reason).

We don’t want the grass cut to parallel perfection. We don’t mind a few weeds. We like a wonky border. There are plenty of bare spots aplenty in our beds waiting to be filled; it’ll take a while for us to add everything we want. But we’ll get there, one garden centre trip at a time.

Next door’s bird house has recently welcomed a family of blue tits, and they chirrup about our garden gathering insects and whatnot – on a quiet morning, you can hear the babies calling for food. The bee houses that the previous owners installed (more nature education!) are already welcoming new occupants, next to a lavender which rolls rampantly into one of our newly-gravelled spaces. What I thought was a massive weed has revealed itself to be a riotous poppy plant, which opens up in bright yellow every day. We have gooseberries and plums growing, promising pies and crumbles.

You may find me writing a bit more about my gardening going forward, as it’s such a big part of my life. Perhaps I’ll share what I’ve been growing and sowing so far this year – what’s worked, and what hasn’t. Perhaps I’ll come crying when the slugs get to me.

Either way, I’ll probably write about it sitting on the decking next to the greenhouse, with a cup of tea, making the most of the fruits of our labour, and watching nature do its best with this inner-city haven we’ve created.