I converted my front garden into a vegetable/fruit garden a year or so after moving into our ground floor flat. Living in a slightly less than salubrious area of north London, many of my neighbours took me aside for a kindly, “I wouldn’t grow things in your front garden dear, people will steal them”, a sincere look of warning in their eyes. The thought of scallys scrumping through my plot certainly sounded ominous, but then, judging from the fox strewn scraps of their bin bags I’m sure that they’d only recognise a vegetable if it was frozen or wrapped in polythene.
The garden over the last few years has been so splendidly productive that I’ve barely noticed the effects of scrumping. In fact, the odd passer by has stopped to own up to the nicking of a handful of ripe raspberries. An Italian neighbour rang my doorbell late last summer to ask if she could use my courgette flowers, I agreed with the proviso that she drop me the recipe. I never did get it, but maybe she’s eager for more next year.
I’ll shortly be sticking up some of the ground work photos, and I’m happy to elaborate on where I got the materials. Abi was adamant that it wasn’t to be made of odds ‘n’ ends, but should look nice. Keeping up apperances and all that.
Back to thoughts and dreams though, I’m intending on photographing as I go, and doing my best to put in some recipes or ideas of what I make out of what I’ve grown. Hopefully this will bolster my pitiful attempts to use the current crop of spring greens, I’ve not been wanting to cut down the small amount of greenery that’s left in the broad areas of brown.
There, that’s good for a start I think.