By now my seeds would usually be well underway, the kitchen a litter of pots and containers, the cold frame full. Not this year though. This year all I’ve managed is a few pots of sweet peas and those sown far too late in the season – like yesterday. Here they are sitting inside polythene bags waiting to come through. We’ll see how long they take, but it’s a pretty poor show for somebody who bores everyone to death with his gardening.
This spring a combination of no time and lack of enthusiasm has gripped me for the first time that I can remember. Of course it isn’t really about the time, I could find that, but I really can’t find the enthusiasm with everything that’s going on. So no smug satisfaction at my home grown plants for me this year and no tales of propagated beauties for me to go on and on about.
I suppose there are still the nurseries and garden centres, but somehow just buying some plants that somebody else has grown from seed doesn’t really seem like gardening proper to me and bedding is just so – well bedding. Still better some colour than none and I’m sure that it will do for this year. It’ll have to really.
Who knows, perhaps it won’t look too bad.