My dad was in the RAF so not much gardening went on at home although mum used to keep it tidy and planted annuals to brighten the place up. We went up to my Gran every August and there were gooseberry and raspberry plants which were kept purely for us to pick the fruit off. That memory is so clear still, over 50 years on.
We had a yard with a square of bricks with a bit of soil growing London pride. Nanna had a sink full of lily of the valley, love the smell. During the holidays went for a few weeks to stay with great aunt and uncle a market gardener. Spent hours just hoeing, and the smell of a greenhouse full of tomatoes( 30 foot long) is just wonderful and brings back such memories. 🙂
Another memory of my Gran and her garden was when she had trouble with the toerags who lived in the house which backed on to her garden. Despite the fact that Gran was over 80, or possibly because of it, they used to go into her garden at night and steal her veg. When Gran had finally had more than she was prepared to put up with, she set up watch in her shed, armed with a riding crop. When they came in next time, she gave them time to get engrossed in their 'work', then crept out of the shed and laid into them with the crop. Gran was just over 5 foot tall but they never dared to come back into the garden again.
I always remember being pushed in the wheelbarrow to my dad's allotment, he used to pull a carrot, wash the mud off under the allotment tap and give it to me to eat while he got on with whatever needed doing. He always carried a string bag in his pocket wherever he went.
We had a rather rickety trellis with a very pretty small pink rose on it but when you picked them for a vase, loads of earwigs fell out. I also vividly remember climbing a tree aged five, after my elder brother. I fell down however and caught my leg on a sticking out nail, right down to the bone. I still have the scar to this day.
Late parents garden, a lot of chicken a lot of the time, gooseberries,lupins, being given a patch and told to weed it, OMG that was 60 years ago, and I hated gardening then. Their front was nastersions and London pride, remember playing with the masses of big pretty furry caterpillers. They lived in a cul-d-sac both front and back, big garden. Late grandparents, stayed with them a lot, on the edge of a forest (then) in Hosham, half an acre, just at the back, loved playing in there.
@Lizzie27.....oh my goodness that made me shudder,you were so young too. I had a climbing tree experience too, not as horrendous as yours though......I was about 8 climbing a tall old pine,with my mate,I fell,and on the way down my dungaree strap got caught on a broken branch! And there I hung for 20 mins. My friend had to run home and get her big brother to rescue me.
Dad gave me a tiny square of garden,and Nasturtium seeds with Love in the mist.....guaranteed to grow!! Bless him.
The whole truth is an instrument that can only be played by an expert.
This thread is making me cry with nostalgia and thoughts of my parents! Lovely thread! I remember mum always struggling with deckchairs trying to put them up and crying with laughter! Smell of the huge lilac tree which I used to climb onto the shed roof to hang out, my brother hanging my tiny tears doll in the climbing rose (!!), the oily, musty smell of the brick shed and turning my Dads vice, having a crazy paving patio laid, my dog chasing bees, Dad sharpening knives on the old stone step... so many memories! 😊
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He always carried a string bag in his pocket wherever he went.
Dad gave me a tiny square of garden,and Nasturtium seeds with Love in the mist.....guaranteed to grow!! Bless him.