There is a small piece of neglected, overgrown land that I now call my own. The allotment garden we now rent is in pretty bad shape for growing food. Though most of the cherries are eaten, the trees and bushes are exciting.
There is a small piece of neglected, overgrown land that I now call my own. The allotment garden we now rent is in pretty bad shape for growing food. Though most of the cherries are eaten, the trees and bushes are exciting.
There is a lot of potential in this land. I am excited to see what this garden will turn into. For now, there is also a lot of work to clean up, to repair, to prepare.
When we decided to rent this piece of land (for less than a Netflix subscription would cost us, mind you), we knew I’d be spending hours upon hours before the land was usable.
We still hope that the A-frame hut is salvageable but won’t know more until we get a closer look at everything, so I decided to dig it out from underneath all the blackberries, hazels, and plum cherries taking over the roof.
When I got there, I couldn’t even properly get into the hut.
The first day, I was only semi-prepared and was still getting a grasp on what needed to be done.
I wore two left garden gloves. I didn’t have a saw with me. I didn’t have a ladder. But I still had plenty that could be done, so I made it work.
First, I made sure Pepper wouldn’t roam around the gardens or into the street. He can jump it but he knows it’s the border and won’t roam that way.
We later found there is an opening at another corner of the garden. Luckily, Pepper doesn’t like to walk that way, as there are tall grasses and blackberries in the way.
Some of what I chopped off to make way will regrow, as I didn’t get to the roots. But that’s okay. I’ll deal with them one at a time. Other things need my attention first.
When that door finally opened properly, I cheered. I did it!
Almost everything inside this hut needs to be removed and driven to the landfill. I’m sad to throw it all out but everything is wet and moldy or broken.
I’ll have to remove and replace the terrace I am carefully treading on, too. For now, I covered the worst part with a palette I’d found in the garden.
I knew the roof needed to be one of my first projects but I needed to free the hut from the garden first.
So, slowly, I made a path toward the sides of the hut, stacking wood and branches on the rotting terrace.
Every step shows more tasks that will need my attention. But everything hinges on the roof for now, so there is no point in even inspecting the rain barrels until I have a plan.
Like the mental todo list, the list of things I needed to bring next time grew and grew. Slowly, the project gained shape in my mind. I was enjoying the manual labor and excited for every step.
When I cook, I dream and plan, figure out what I want to grow, what needs to happen before I can plant.
Except for the berries, hazelnuts, walnuts, and edible weeds, there probably won’t be any food growing here this year. The next months will be months of preparation, reparation, and regeneration.
In the meantime, I’ll harvest the berries and lettuces of my friendly neighbors, eat what grows on my balcony, and what I can buy locally.