Titanarum

Well well well. What can I say? The buds are swelling, the worms are wriggling and the rain just keeps on coming. It is spring. I know I declared spring sprung during a visit to the Isabella Plantation in early January but that was obviously a mistake on my part. I don’t feel a need to apologise. Those who know me accept that I’m wont to over excitement. But, being at the end of March, the statement finally holds true. And now, with the storms behind us, it is time to get our nails and backs broken. Time to get sunburnt arms and aching thighs. Because gardening isn’t all about fun. It is hard work and sheer determination. Those who say otherwise either employ a gardener or belong to a tiny minority of organised sticklers who check their angles, and best-before -dates on seed packets. And rest assured they are well ahead of garden people on TV and in magazines. We all know one or two, I expect. And respect to them. By all means. But I’m going to hurt for my produce. When I think of the chewing, slicing, boiling and baking I’m going to subject them to, it feels like the least I can do.