Horticultural frustrations

I’M GAZING out of the window at the back garden with a certain amount of frustration.

Not that I claim to be anything like as enthusiastic a gardener as My Good Lady, but there are some things I’m itching to do out there.

For example, last autumn, we had a cloudburst, a torrential downpour of rain. It lasted for about twenty minutes, but in that time about five inches of rain fell.

The whole of the back yard was covered, even part of the lawn as far as the bird bath.

It was pretty scary.

But the result is, when the water receded, we ended up with a very muddy back yard. And it’s this I’m keen to have a go at cleaning up.

The only trouble is, for the first time this winter, the arthritis in my feet is playing up – to the point indeed that I’m hobbling painfully around to get the simple necessities of life done. My Good Lady refers to me as “Hop-along” (MGL can be quite unsympathetic, you know).

Anyhow, pondering the garden, I’m being drawn to get some large pots, and having a bash at growing some vegetables in containers. I understand, from Gardener’s Question Time (BBC Radio 4, Sundays) that you can grow spuds pretty much the whole year round.

“But why in containers?” I hear you ask. “You’ve got a huge garden, by modern standards. Why not turn part of that into a veg plot?”

Oh yes, I could tell you that it’s because it’s so wet out there that even in a raised plot most veg wouldn’t survive.

Or I could tell you that we have such an abundance of snails and slugs* that veg wouldn’t stand a chance. (* is there a collective noun for slugs? how about a “slime” of slugs? Just a thought.)

Or I could even tell you that because of the number of trees and shrubs we’ve got at the far end of the garden, only the most shade-loving of vegetables would grow.

But the truth is, I feel very insecure about vegetable growing.

My previous efforts have only been partially successful – for all the above reasons.

Also, because, I’m basically physically lazy in my middle age decline, and I fancy having food growing outside of my back door.

(Spare me your reproaches, I am pushing sixty!)

Anyhow, at the moment, I’m just sitting and gazing out with my foot up and feeling a few horticultural frustrations.