Hello! Anyone still reading after 78 blog posts? Hi sis. Hi Triz. Hi Hazel. Hi Liz. Hi Ray. Hi John maybe. I hope you like the headline – I thought it sounded like a cryptic crossword clue.
Five days in a row at the allotment now and I'm starting to get strong whatever-muscles-you-bend-over-to-pull-weeds-with. Those ballet pliés must be helping.
The violence continues… I chopped the heads of the tall grass, wrenched bindweed from every cranny, stood on brambles til I broke their backs, and hacked and raked the soil to a fine tilth (love that word). While others have been online shopping for mere frivolities, I've been looking at folding laplander saws and a heavy duty Mora knife. I need bushcraft tools on my overgrown plot. (I don't but hey!)
After the hunting and killing of weeds, came the gentle art of transplanting… three small squashes (including the top-named petty pan), three courgettes and six sweetcorn.
Earlier at home, I refilled the now-empty seed pots with soaked peas, nasturtiums, broccoli, cauliflower, spinach, parsley, lettuce and marigolds. We'll see. I hold out some hope. How much? 9%. (Nod to High Fidelity there.)
Food growing and bushcraft are key skills for survival. Perhaps I'm subconsciously preparing for the coronapocalypse (see yesterday's post on covocabulary).
In other pandemic news: Single people can stay the night with loved ones, PM says!!! What about the married ones?
Today I am thankful for getting to play football with my nearly four-year-old great nephew. We have to social distance but a garden kickabout worked quite well. If anyone has any other suggestions for outdoor distanced activities with someone under-5, please leave a comment! I'm booked in again on Friday.
Commission/hire me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com