FOR decades our children have been the benefactors of my earnest toil in the patch. From lashings of pumpkin soup served up from butternuts, to weird and wonderful zucchini creations and fresh tomato sauce, they’ve had access to some fine food indeed.
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On the weekend I systematically removed all my tomatoes and began the transition to the winter garden, a time when I plant my brassicas, garlic and snow peas.
My main annual patch is about seven by five metres and I also have one smaller one dedicated to herbs, and another, about the same size as the main one, that I use for perennials like asparagus, raspberries and the climbers like pumpkins.
On the weekend though, all that changed.
I don’t know what came over him, I think he was inspired by images of Jamie Oliver’s patch in one of his cook books, but my son decided it was time to give the main patch an overhaul. To freshen up the layout by joining the main patch with the smaller herb patch.
I had thought of doing the same myself, but the notion of hacking away at the soil with a mattock all by my lonesome simply didn’t appeal. But what sort of fool would I be if I rejected his offer to help create a new garden, free of fencing and edging, one that would in effect, almost double the size of the original annual patch.
So in the glorious autumnal sun we hacked away at the soil, allowing the chooks to feast upon the subterranean vermin that is the African black beetle larvae.
By 2pm the grass had been removed, muscle tissue had grown, backs were aching, necks were sunburnt, cake was eaten, the chooks’ bellies were full and the two patches had become one.
Now all I need to do is dig in loads of goodies like lucerne chaff, chook poo and organic plant food to get it ready for planting. I just have to now decide what, and how much.