Chapter 39-Cabbages and Kings

To be fair, I don’t know a lot about King Canute. But after having been gardening with a toddler, I am learning to appreciate the trials of reckoning with a force of nature.

Like holding back the tide, it’s wet, it’s wild and an impossible task.

On the other side of the shire however, all is peaceful. “Being in the garden is so therapeutic,” chirruped my grandmother. And looking at what she has created, it probably is. From a manicured lawn to an immaculate shed, everything not only has its place, it knows its place.

Alas, such order is abandoned at our allotment. If any of the seedlings survive after this week I will eat not only them but my hat after a thorough trampling, followed by a blissfully ignorant squishing with a hosepipe.

Raffie and an unsuspecting row  of courgette seedlings.

Raffie blasts an unsuspecting row of courgettes.

Raffie’s delight at figuring how to drink from a standpipe on renders him deaf to any requests to think about what he’s doing or watch where he’s going. “But why Mummy?” he pauses quizzically, watering can in one hand and his foot on a courgette seedling.

If it’s not plants it’s sticks, and the little protectors I’ve put on top of them to stop him poking his eye out. “I threw them in the bushes Mummy,” “Why did you do that? They were to protect you.” I ask wearily. “I don’t know, you can go and find them if you like Mummy.”

And now we have dug (thank you Daddy), planted and watered relentlessly there is no going back. We will see how many survive to the end of the season and then try and persuade Raffie to enjoy the fruits of our labours, probably smothered with butter and accompanied by a sausage or two.

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Last week he pulled his long suffering sunflower out of its pot saying ‘look how much it’s grown, it’s huge!’ Sunflower roots safely returned to the soil, his enthusiasm is boundless.

I barely had to time to finish the sentence “Now we’ll wash these strawberries before eating them” before he’d stuffed the first crop into his mouth.

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So the proof of the gardening will be in the eating. But until then we’ll keep trying to stem a tide of enthusiasm-and hopefully enjoy at least one feast fit for a king.

Finally walking on the grass.

Finally walking on the grass, not on the sweetcorn.


I’ve loved this blog since I first discovered it and months later am still joining the blog hop, Small Steps Amazing Achievements. It’s all about family life and living with autism-please do pop in, it’s well worth a read

8 thoughts on “Chapter 39-Cabbages and Kings

  1. Lystra, you have to eat a peck of dirt before you die. It makes your immune system work. We don’t wash the strawberries or the rocket. If it’s grown organically it will be ok. One day we’ll get Raffie picking the carrots and eating them out of the garden. Or, as our grandchildren did, swiping tomatoes off the vine as they run past.

    • Thanks Valerie, absolutely-he had his first broad bean the other day straight from the plant though it was a mixed reaction! Hope you are enjoying the fruits of your labours, your garden looks amazing! xxx

  2. Now I wish I had an allotment – it sounds fun, and rewarding, being able to (literally) harvest the fruit and vegetables of your labours. My grandad used to grow his own vegetables and I remember them always tasting so much better than shop-bought veg. By the way, I love the first and last photos here, the light and the effects of the water spraying everywhere look really atmospheric.

    • Oh thank you that’s very kind-my other half took the photos and I will pass on your kind words! Yes, this is the first one I’ve had since having a baby and it’s very different with a little one but I think in a good way! xxx

  3. Love your photos, I think it’s fantastic he is so eager to help. Frustrating for you wanting to protect what is growing, well done for putting your feelings aside so that he can enjoy his time there. Thank you for the lovely mention.

    Thanks for linking up with Small Steps Amazing Achievements :0)

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