However much we try to reduce the amount of packaging that comes into your house and waste that goes out of it, it seems that we are still constantly throwing things out. Meanwhile, the baby wants something to play with... In true permaculture style, I can solve two problems at once by diverting some of the 'rubbish' from the recycling bin to the toy box. Read on over at NPN for a few suggestions that have gone down well with Leon.
In non-garden-related news, I have an article on equal parenting in the current issue of natural parenting/family magazine JUNO. Which is a good read all round (the magazine, not specifically my article, though I am very pleased with that too). Available from their online shop, in some newsagents, and as a digital edition from Exact Editions.
Busy times over here, with Leon starting to walk and lots of summer fun stuff happening.
I've harvested my garlic, and for the first time ever got a really decent crop (14 bulbs) which look like they'll be very usable. Unfortunately I left it a week too late and the stalks are too dry to be plaited and hung to dry, so the bulbs are drying on a plate in the kitchen and being turned occasionally. I planted these garlics from a bulb (sold for eating) from the Co-op rather than buying proper seed garlic and they're my best ever, and I'm not quite sure what to think! I'm debating whether I should save a bulb for next year (usually discouraged I think if you've planted supermarket seed?), buy another Co-op bulb next year, or buy a 'proper' one.
Depressingly, though, my grape vine has died altogether. It got heavily munched by snails/slugs, but when I wrote to the nursery they thought it would recover. Sadly not. I am probably going to try again next year, but in the meantime I need a plan of action for dealing with the slimey beasties.
I've also started work on my Permaculture Diploma, which is exciting. I'm using the Back Garden Project as one of my designs, so have been pulling posts together from that and writing up my analysis more formally. Other projects on the horizon include a mini greenhouse for the back garden, a plan for the balcony and the front porch, and very excitingly, a plan for my friends' new allotment.
I really wanted to put a willow den in our back garden for Leon to play in.
Unfortunately, that was scuppered by the realisation that there's a sewage pipe running underground through the middle of the garden. You're not supposed to plant willow within 3m of any pipes (it seeks water, and can sneak into the pipe through any cracks), and the apple tree prevented me planting further down the garden than that.
Instead, it occurred to me this week that after building the bean wigwam recently, I had lots of bamboo cane left over; and a couple of old sheets in the bottom of the airing cupboard. So now we have a baby play tipi.
Unfortunately the baby was unconvinced, because it has grass on its floor, and he is somewhat mistrustful of grass on bare feet. Hopefully as he gets steadier on his feet he may be more enthusiastic; in the meantime I might put a blanket down in there tomorrow.
In other news, this week I wrote about the competing pulls of parenting over at the Natural Parents Network: The Two Minds of Parenting.
During the last stages of my pregnancy last year, the business of working
out how to manage my vegetable garden alongside a brand-new baby was high
on my to-do list. 2012 wasn't my most productive season ever, but I did
manage to get a reasonable harvest despite a bare minimum of available
gardening time. I shared some tips from my experience yesterday in Gardening with a Baby in Tow at Natural
If I intervene with horrified shrieking when Leon plays with dirt and hoicks things up now, he is less likely to be positive about the garden later on, at an age when he can learn the difference between 'weed' and 'not-weed'. It is therefore worth sitting on my hands as dirt and plants go everywhere. (The volunteer broccoli raab from the satsuma tree pot may survive; the rocket certainly won't but there is plenty of rocket.)
A corollary: any potentially vulnerable plants that I really seriously care about are going to need some form of defence. I'm thinking in particular of my carefully-nursed autumn olive seedling, the sole survivor from a handful of seeds I stratified last winter and planted out in the spring, currently overwintering on the windowsill.
It was a lovely afternoon to be out in the garden, though. I planted peas by the fence, and Leon ate moss and dirt and threw soil around by the handful. Happy times.