The Idiot Gardener

WARNING: This site contains information on gardening, brewing, curing meat,

building shit and hunting, all done in a piss-poor manner. It is not suitable for the

feeble-minded, the weak and lame, those of a nervous disposition, vegans and

vegetarians (and those other ones that only eat fish and the occasional bacon

sandwich - I think they're called 'hypocrites'), those who practice any

manner of folk singing or dancing, people named Colin or fans of Barry Gibb.

Plot 9 from Outer Space

Well, after what seems like a lifetime, I no longer hate some of you. Ever since my conversion to gardening, I have been stealing inches of my garden from other things, pulling up shrubs and cutting down tress, shifting the ominous Hill 49 and demolishing the divisive Wall of Inishrah, all to gain a little more growing space. Yet, still, I harboured a deep resentment towards many of you; yes, those of you with allotments. I craved that 250 square metres that you all had. I tried to pretend that my garden was okay for me, but deep inside I was seething.

I wanted more – so much more. It was like the first time I dated one of the O’Sheedy triplets; I was always wondering about … well, you know what I was wondering about!

However, now I feel better. Now I am at peace, because I have Plot 9!

Delays and confusion and complaints from locals meant the establishing of the final layout has taken some time, and this also means I am very behind on the work front, but what’s life without a challenge? Plot 9 will be an added burden alongside the building of the greenhouse, plus at least two new beds and the Herbage in the garden at Idiot Towers. However, it’s a burden I am embracing.

So, what I am going to do? I have a few things to go in there.

Onions, Shallots, Leeks, Parsnips, Carrots, Salsify, Scorzonera, Cabbage, Kale, Calabrese, Broccoli, Chard, Spinach, French Beans, Runner Beans, Borlotti Beans, Broad Beans, Peas, Turnips, Swede, Beetroot, Celeriac, Fennel, Sweetcorn, Potatoes, Summer and Winter Squash, Pumpkins, Celery and Rhubarb.

I hope I have enough room…

plot9wide

Of course, this all alongside the usual array of salads and other veg grown in the garden, plus a range of less hardy veg in the soon-to-be-built greenhouse.

Naturally, this might also spell the return of some gardening related posts, plus a fair few injuries. Of course, all of this will be carried out with a healthy dose of idiocy.

It’s sad to say, but I bloody love gardening!

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10 thoughts on “Plot 9 from Outer Space

  1. debsgarden

    Happy gardening! Hate is never good for the soul, so I am glad you acquired Plot 9. It looks like it will keep you busy for a while, but I warn you: At some point you will probably start eyeing some rolling farmland and begin thinking, ‘If only…” More is rarely enough!

    Reply
  2. Britta

    Seething with green-eyed envy, reading your post on my balcony… (No: I am glad you got it and am looking forward to more garden-adventures of you).

    Reply
  3. Andrea

    That looks like not a small area, and I think you will be full in the coming days. The good thing is your temperature there is low, because if you are above 30s C like here, you wont be able to even go out to the field at all.

    Reply
  4. Hippo

    I see a policy of ‘Lebensraum’ on the horizon.

    Neighbouring plot holders of the Idiot Gardener, Hark!! THERE WILL NEVER BE PEACE IN YOUR TIME!

    Google ‘Plot 9’ and learn of the hideously cruel experiments to creat the master plant species that will invade your plots. The cruel cutting and cloning of innocant plants, the splicing of fruit trees and the brutal pruning.

    Start digging Anderson Shelters, buy tin mugs and economise by feeding scraps to chickens to aid the war effort! Turn your ploughshares into guns and your strimmers into really annoying things that sting peoples ankles. Don’t plant vegetables, plant landmines! Forget prissie little white painted picket fences and flower borders, roll out the razor wire aand dig trenches, not vegetable beds! Even now the skies darken above your sleepy rural idyll.

    Reply

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