"My Dad always double dug his veg garden and grew fantastic vegatables."
I still do that, Runny, as did my own dad & granddad.....double dig, I mean, sometimes known as 'bastard trenching' and I can well understand how it got its name.
We always had a big veg garden growing up. I remember spending countless hours in the hot sun weeding and mulching. Newspapers blowing away and scratchy hay on my bare feet.
I remember being about ten years old, standing on the back of the plow while my 7 year old brother drove the massive farm tractor back and forth to make the furrows. I had to stand on the plow to drive it deep enough into the soil, my brother was too light weight. It's so clear in my memory, this tiny little boy driving this massive machine. I don't know where my parents were.. out of sight, off doing other chores I imagine. I CAN NOT imagine allowing my two own boys anywhere near a running tractor.. let alone the baby driving and the other standing on top of a bouncing blade unsupervised. My, how times have changed.
Now I garden a few long raised beds on much less land using the no-dig method; maybe due to that memory!.
It's funny actually. I have a weird mishmash of memories about my Dad gardening. He grew lots of veg (for practical reasons as his job wasn't well paid) and he grew some flowers for Mum.
I always had the impression that he was a reluctant gardener but my godmother recently pointed out to me that he would be really proud of what I and my husband have achieved in our garden as apparently he rather enjoyed it and took pride in what he did.
I remember helping him plant sweet peas, banking up spuds and being told off for nicking fresh pea pods to eat on my way to school. He also used to get me to harvest and shuck broad beans (which I loathed eating back then!) and picking the raspberries and getting scratched. This is why my rasps are thornless!
I remember planting potatoes with my uncle at a very early age. We would potter around the garden happily together. In later life he became addicted (dealer) to heroin and sadly died several years ago of a methodone overdose. Everyone else remembers the man he became. To me he's always in his garden, spade in hand.
My grandad loved his garden.From what I can remember he was keen on lupines and phlox due to thier great colours.My dad then got me in to gardening when I was about 12 years old when I helped him in our garden at home. I always knew then that I loved being in the garden and even as I got in to my teens, I would keep my dad garden maintained by dead heading, weeding and changing the position of plants to get the best colour palet
i will always be grateful,to my dad and grandad showing me the way to the life of gardening. It is now my occupation and I love it
Kitty i did that too! rose petals and rainwater! I make organic skincare now, i'm an aromatherapist also so those early fragrances must have influenced me, my grandad also had a green house full of yummy tomatoes, i love growing them each summer, my paternal grandparents had beautiful roses ( includung 'blue moon' which i've just added to my collection!) and a lovely lilac tree, which i've also just planted, can't wait for blossom, hope we get a bit this year, tho in's onlt a foot high, neither of my parents have the slightest interest in gardening, i only startred around 30, really took off when i got my own garden
Hi Rosemummy, I think my Mum had one called "blue moon" as well, I'd completely forgotten that, it was one of her favourites. I went on to become a florist though I gave it up many years ago when I had children so you may be right about the early influences.
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Falling into neighbour's rose bush (ouch)
"My Dad always double dug his veg garden and grew fantastic vegatables."
I still do that, Runny, as did my own dad & granddad.....double dig, I mean, sometimes known as 'bastard trenching' and I can well understand how it got its name.
We always had a big veg garden growing up. I remember spending countless hours in the hot sun weeding and mulching. Newspapers blowing away and scratchy hay on my bare feet.
I remember being about ten years old, standing on the back of the plow while my 7 year old brother drove the massive farm tractor back and forth to make the furrows. I had to stand on the plow to drive it deep enough into the soil, my brother was too light weight. It's so clear in my memory, this tiny little boy driving this massive machine. I don't know where my parents were.. out of sight, off doing other chores I imagine. I CAN NOT imagine allowing my two own boys anywhere near a running tractor.. let alone the baby driving and the other standing on top of a bouncing blade unsupervised. My, how times have changed.
Now I garden a few long raised beds on much less land using the no-dig method; maybe due to that memory!.
It's funny actually. I have a weird mishmash of memories about my Dad gardening. He grew lots of veg (for practical reasons as his job wasn't well paid) and he grew some flowers for Mum.
I always had the impression that he was a reluctant gardener but my godmother recently pointed out to me that he would be really proud of what I and my husband have achieved in our garden as apparently he rather enjoyed it and took pride in what he did.
I remember helping him plant sweet peas, banking up spuds and being told off for nicking fresh pea pods to eat on my way to school. He also used to get me to harvest and shuck broad beans (which I loathed eating back then!) and picking the raspberries and getting scratched. This is why my rasps are thornless!
I remember planting potatoes with my uncle at a very early age. We would potter around the garden happily together. In later life he became addicted (dealer) to heroin and sadly died several years ago of a methodone overdose. Everyone else remembers the man he became. To me he's always in his garden, spade in hand.
My grandad loved his garden.From what I can remember he was keen on lupines and phlox due to thier great colours.My dad then got me in to gardening when I was about 12 years old when I helped him in our garden at home. I always knew then that I loved being in the garden and even as I got in to my teens, I would keep my dad garden maintained by dead heading, weeding and changing the position of plants to get the best colour palet
i will always be grateful,to my dad and grandad showing me the way to the life of gardening. It is now my occupation and I love it
Making "perfume" in a glass milkbottle swiped from the doorstep stuffed full of petals from my Mum's roses and a bit of water, classy
And a stick of rhubarb pulled from a random patch at the back, quick rinse under the tap then dipped in the sugar bowl and eaten raw.
Kitty i did that too! rose petals and rainwater! I make organic skincare now, i'm an aromatherapist also so those early fragrances must have influenced me, my grandad also had a green house full of yummy tomatoes, i love growing them each summer, my paternal grandparents had beautiful roses ( includung 'blue moon' which i've just added to my collection!) and a lovely lilac tree, which i've also just planted, can't wait for blossom, hope we get a bit this year, tho in's onlt a foot high, neither of my parents have the slightest interest in gardening, i only startred around 30, really took off when i got my own garden
Hi Rosemummy, I think my Mum had one called "blue moon" as well, I'd completely forgotten that, it was one of her favourites. I went on to become a florist though I gave it up many years ago when I had children so you may be right about the early influences.