I could get a piece of meat/ from a barren tree. Nothing ever spoiled on me

I have got a confession for you. I do not like gardening. There. I said it. It is like housework but with grass and I do not like housework, either. It is obviously very ironic, then, that we have a ridiculously large garden (ridiculously large for Cambridge, not for the rest of the world,) and if I am completely honest I sometimes have fantasies about selling it to a property developer. In fact, I have worked out where the paths would go and everything. I appreciate that this confession will now lead to my blacklisting and everybody unsubscribing from my blog but I think it is best that you know the truth. I don’t like it.

Strangely enough, though, the moment I admitted to myself that I really don’t like all the boring bits and decided instead to concentrate on the bits I might conceivably find more interesting – i.e. growing flowers and possibly dinner, rather than Strimming Edges and engaging with Weed Suppressant Membrane – all my plants started growing better. It was as if they had had a conference together and decided to reward my self-awareness. You see, this is why plants make me nervous. They have minds of their own.

I have actually watched Black Squirrel dig in these pots, there are literally no words for how bad that animal is. The spiky thing in the middle is a particularly naughty weed

The ones with actual flowers on are stocks. I bought them from Homebase, put them in a pot and did not kill them. This is an achievement for me on a par with, well, it is an achievement so great I have no parallel with which to illustrate it for you. And the straggly green crappy things are going to be Marigolds (not the gloves) which I have nurtured on the windowsill, drumroll, from seed. From seed! But this is my best one ever:

As God is my witness, I shall never go short of Saag Aloo again. So long as I don't run out of potatoes

Spinach. I put soil in a planter, I planted seeds straight in it, I waited an entire month for them to grow, and the day before I had decided to upend the planter and use it for something else I had green shoots and did a victory dance right in the teeth of the competent gardener next door. And look at it now! I pick bits! I eat bits! Everyone round mine come the zombie apocalypse! I have gone wild today and planted tomato plants in a gro-bag (apparently they come in different varieties and the woman on the market thinks you should have an opinion re which one you want. Who knew?*) and Oriental Salad Leaves. Who knows what will happen? I feel like Alan Titchmarsh. You leave my seedlings alone, bold hairy ginger cat from the house behind. My eye, it is upon you.

*Cambridge people, stall opposite M&S, 3 for £4, bargain.

(The title is from a Kristin Hersh song. I am showing my age. Also it is ironic I am thinking of this song because I am thinking of going vegetarian again. Yes. Bring on the tofu and the nutritional yeast, I think I'm woman enough).

A lovely parcel + the yarn clearout continues apace

Something very exciting came for me in the post yesterday:

Some lovely plants, very kindly sent to me by Ialheg. The one on the left is sorrel, and the one on the right is lemon mint. I also had mint and a perky little strawberry plant (just out of the photo). They are resting in pots while they recover from the shock of having made a very long trip through the postal system with their bottoms in damp tissue, and then I will be clearing a space in my front garden for them to begin my herb garden. Exciting! I will keep you in touch with their progress. Ialheg warned me that they can be quite invasive. Ialheg, that is no problem: this is a garden that is a friend to invasive plants. If we had Japanese Knotweed in Cambridge, rest assured I would have a clump somewhere, causing trouble. Invasive plants are welcome here! She also sent me this:

A lovely stripey Morsbag! Well, I have a special place in my heart for Morsbags: I don't know if you know about them, but it's a movement to stop people using plastic bags at supermarkets and to encourage people to make their own – they give you a pattern on their website and encourage you to use recycled materials, get together in groups to sew them, etc. It's an excellent idea, and the Morsbags themselves are a very useful shape and size and much better than supermarket plastic bags in terms of durability (and stylishness.) A Morsbag was actually the first thing I sewed a couple of years ago after a really long hiatus, while I was doing The Most Unbelievably Stressful Job In Cambridge, in which sewing things wasn't the norm (histrionics and court cases were the norm, but sewing things wasn't). Strangely enough I haven't made any since, but in my last charity shop fabric shopping trip I saw so many curtains and bed sheets and things that would make wonderful Morsbags that I began to have vague thoughts about making some more, and I shall take my new stripey bag as a sign. So thanks again Ialheg, not only do I love my plants and stripey bag, but it's inspired me to get recycling.

I am still selling all my yarn on ebay. On the positive side I feel less as if I am drowning in a sea of unfinished projects: on the negative side I hyperventilate every time I list something really juicy. I'm fighting the urge to message people who have bid and say, you don't know how precious this yarn is, I hope you're going to appreciate it. I don't think that would improve my rating as a seller.

A late (but enthusiastic!) stab at Grow Your Own

One of the things I wanted to do this year was grow my own vegetables. I had seeds, I had a plan, and I had a book. However, I also had flu, from January until May, (seriously), and my seeds didn't get planted. However, given my new cheerful philosophy of, it is never too late to start doing anything (I just made that up now), today I got out my seeds to see if any could be still planted or if it was too late and I had to get rid of them. And, as ever, it is not as depressing as I thought it would be, because not only could some of the salady ones still be planted, I can just save the rest for next year. Hooray!

So I have been out with my compost and pots, I have cleared a little space, and I have planted my lemon balm, a strawberry plant, some lettuce seeds, some radish seeds, and some spring onion seeds. And I will wait eagerly to see if anything happens. You can see my lemon balm in that pot there, with a strawberry plant behind it. But, you say, why is your strawberry plant squashed to one side in that big pot? Does it have imaginary friends? Have you left room for the slugs? Well, no, it is even more exciting than that. Ialheg, of I Spy With My Altered Eye, is going to send me some plants! This is very kind, and I am thrilled. So I have left a space for the new plants, which are winging their way to me in the post, and when they get here I will take pictures. Thank you, Ialheg! And I will be putting yours in the post to you tomorrow!

Something else exciting arrived in the post today. After I searched for Borax in Homebase on Tuesday, I bought some mail order from Greenshop.co.uk. At the time I didn't think this was a very satisfactory solution, as I would like to be able to buy something like that locally as and when (although to be fair the postage wasn't very expensive), and the website seemed to say that it would take forever to come. Well it didn't, it came this morning, which is great, and I will be experimenting with making my washing powder tomorrow (the recipe seems quick and easy.) I'm not sure whether I have high hopes of this or not, but I think it's definitely worth trying. I have the other ingredients hanging about anyway, so it hasn't been a big expense.

And these are my roses, in full bloom, looking very pretty.

Cheesecake, herbs, but sadly no Borax

I've been trying to eat healthily, because since about January I feel as if I've been in a biscuit-eating competition. And I've won! So now is the time for vitamins and fibre. So I was pleased, when we went to Scotsdales the garden centre earlier, that they had a good, healthy, non-indulgent lunch for me. I could feel it doing me good even as I ate it.

We'd gone to Scotsdales because yesterday I went out on a mission to buy 2 items: Borax to make my own washing powder, and a Lemon Balm plant so I can make this lovely lipsalve Mumma Troll gave the recipe for on her blog the other day. Well, I won't say I walked the length and breadth of Cambridge looking for these two items because I didn't, I mainly popped into Homebase and then into a more general DIY-type place, but I drew a complete blank. I've looked for Borax also in Tesco and Waitrose and nothing. Don't you think it's odd that you can buy 90 different kinds of things to put in your washing machine and not one ingredient to make your own? I do, in fact in Waitrose I started muttering about being oppressed by capitalism which was a bit hypocritical on many levels. You can buy caustic soda in Homebase, though (you make soap with caustic soda – it is sodium hydroxide, lye) which is useful to know for when I run out of the supply I've got at the moment. (I have a soap-related confession, actually. You're supposed to let your homemade soap cure for 4 weeks, but I used mine last night after only leaving it a fortnight. And it's great! I'll put more scent in the next batch, but really, for a first attempt, I'm very happy. I shall be putting some soap in the post to my mother tomorrow who is going to risk her skin PH and try it out for me (no, really mum, it'll be fine, you'll survive.))

Anyway, after I couldn't get any lemon balm either I started to think there had been a great big meeting of shopkeepers in Cambridge, and they had somehow tapped into my brainwaves as I slept and worked out everything I might ever want to buy so they could make sure they wouldn't ever stock it. Note to shopkeepers: procion dyes and spindles. You get destroying your stocks. But my fears were unfounded. Scotsdales had loads of herbs:

And I got a nice big pot of lemon balm. I think it's too small for me to strip it of leaves this year, but I will wait to see if it establishes and get ready for next year. This will be the start of my herb garden.

This is my lily which is blooming at the moment, soon I'm hoping it's going to be joined by some friends. The bees aren't keen on it though, surprisingly. They prefer a scruffy bush just opposite. There is no accounting for the aesthetic senses of bees, they are mysteries to me, mysteries with fuzzy white bottoms.