A bit of a reckoning (388 days to go)

by Max Akroyd

The correct response is to shrug, hoe off the weeds and try again.

Distill out the dubious benefits derived from a failed 20 metre sowing of expensive beetroot seeds – exercise, meditative calm – and learn any lessons. In this case, I’ve learned that early sowings of anything less than super-rubust into a wintry, famished soil are misguided.

Next year, my early sowing of beetroot will be in modules in February for transplanting now.

Next no show: late February-sown peas. That dry spell, and some voracious voles, have meant very patchy results. It’s unfair, our six year old helped me sow all those. The injustice of it all! Never mind, he enjoyed that sunny afternoon and forgot about the peas since. Shut up and sow some more.

The parsnips are patchy, I’ve chitted some more and sowed them in the gaps. In microcosm the pragmatic approach imposed on an unruly mind by the need to be self-sufficient.

This morning was reluctantly sacrificed to the past: making good and patching up. Forgiving and moving on.

Then I stood back and I admired the crab apple blossom.