50 Shades of Clay

Have you ever had a weekend, so exhilarating, so exciting, so very, very dirty that you wake up on Monday with a smile on your face, your back muscles aching and a deep burn in your thighs? Well I have just had that weekend. Now, before you think I’ve gone all raunchy on you, I am of course talking about my weekend in the garden. Although, maybe I’m on to something, there’s a definite gap in the market for erotic gardening novels. I’ll call mine 50 Shades of Clay. I’m going to make millions guys!

…Her tight denim shorts strained against her rump as she bent over the bed. Her hands slick with dew, the back of her neck glistening with sweat. She wiped her muddied hand on her sunburned leg, and as he watched her run the streak of soil from her trembling thigh down to the rim of her wellies, he held his large tool in his hand and fantasised about spending long clammy afternoons in her polytunnel…

Yes, my friends, I had a very dirty weekend.

It was a cold but dry weekend in Dublin and it was definitely the first sign of spring. My plot is beginning to come back to life, there are a few crocuses and daffodils opening and the desolation of winter is beginning to disappear.

I had a serious stroke of luck this weekend. I hauled myself out to the plot early on Saturday morning intending to spend an hour or so just pulling up some weeds and tidying up. Little did I know I’d spend the day up to my eyeballs in compost.

There I was, surveying my plot, trying to figure out where the hell to start when one of my neighbours came over for a chat. Turns out, he had ordered 15 tonnes of compost and had to get it all moved that day. Now, this stuff was gorgeous. Yes I just referred to muck as gorgeous, but in all seriousness, it was the most attractive thing I’ve seen in weeks. He very kindly offered me some and so I spent the day carting wheelbarrows full of muck back and forth to my plot. I filled my large raised beds with about two tonnes of it and I’m amazed at the difference it has made to the plot already. It’s a far cry from the greyish looking muck that was in there before, now my soil is rich and fertile.

 

 

….it had been a number of years since her patch had a good ploughing….

Now, soil may seem like very boring thing to all my non gardening friends but it is the single most important thing in a garden. Think about it, with no soil, nothing would grow, there would be nothing to plant your seeds in, nothing to sustain your plants. Soil, you see, is not just a load of dirty brown stuff. It is the giver of life. It is packed full of important nutrients for plants and bad soil = bad plants. As such, most gardeners, will spend more time on muck in Spring than on anything else and this is the time of year to get your soil ready for planting. Be it digging, composting or raking, preparing your soil is not only prudent, it is an essential task in any garden.

……His biceps swelled as he lifted the wheelbarrow, mud streaked across his brow, his torn t-shirt revealing the lean yet mountainous landscape underneath….

Last year, I didn’t really do much with my soil and it really began to show in mid summer. I hadn’t composted or manured any of my raised beds and consequently, my plants suffered. Plants take vital nutrients from the soil and it is essential to put that goodness back into the soil for each growing season. Compost is possibly the best way to do this, it needs to be well rotted and packed full of nutrients. This year, I had intended to buy a mountain of compost to breathe some goodness back into my earth. Thankfully, I no longer have to do that due to the generosity of a fellow gardener.  What is it Mr Tennessee Williams said about the kindness of strangers?

…and as she handled the rough foliage, she knew that what her bed was missing right now was a good forking….

I also spent quite a few hours weeding on Saturday, it’s amazing how nothing will really grow in winter, oh wait no, it will, the weeds will grow. They will grow year round apparently and despite the cold and the lack of light and the driving wind and the rain and the frost and the snow and the hail. They will always grow.

….she spent her days in the lonely greenhouse, praying he would appear and help to fertilise her seeds….

I hightailed it home at about five o’clock, freezing cold, covered in muck and exhausted, so naturally, I decided to go out for more punishment on Sunday. It’s still far too early to plant much outside but I did plant some garlic, a mild, soft neck, French variety called Germidour (can be bought in Mr Middleton’s for my Dublin based readers), most garlic should be planted in late autumn but this variety can be planted right up until February if you have the right conditions. I haven’t grown garlic successfully before so I have high hopes for a good crop this year. I also potted up some strawberry plants (I have a whole other blog post coming about that little adventure).

 

I finally put up my birdhouse, which I painted about a year ago and then completely forgot about, tidied my shed (long overdue) and had about 106 cups of tea. All in all a very productive weekend.

 

…..she swooned as he plunged his spade deep into her trench over and over….

Work on 50 Shades of Clay has begun, expect to find it in all good bookshops in the near future. Seeking gorgeous gardener to play the male protagonist in the movie version. I will of course, play the female lead.