Hoodie On

Ash beginning to blossom

Have you ever tried pulling a jumper over your head whilst it still had a clothes hanger lodged within its arms and neck hole? Neither had I till last night, and being oblivious of the hanger lurking therein was rather startled to discover that that my head, rather than slipping neatly through the hole as it had on countless occasions before, had got jammed between the perimeter of the neck hole and a hard wooden bar. What the problem was became clear to me immediately. I didn't panic. I did briefly consider just pushing on through and sorting it out later but then remembered the hook which might possibly lacerate my neck on the way past, so I had to perform a rather undignified reverse procedure and extract the hanger whilst not wearing it. My excuse, before you dismiss me as a complete imbecile, is that it was a hoodie jumper, the hood of which completely obscured the hook of the hanger. OK you can dismiss me now.

Rhubarb, and pea shoots in the distance

So that was the highlight of my week... let's see, what else. I had my very first taste of birch sap. A friend of my landlord's had extracted gallons of the stuff from a few large birch trees at the equinox full moon, when the sap was rising at its best apparently. We were served it in small sherry glasses and after all the build-up I was expecting something, if not alcoholic, at least pretty potent. It was clear, like water. It didn't smell of anything, like water. And after a swig, it tasted almost exactly like water as well. It was only the aftertaste, a slightly unusual flavour left on your tongue, which belied its origins. You can make wine from it too which holds a little more appeal, to me at least.

Over the Easter weekend I was away up in Lancaster with my folks. When I left it was cold, cloudy and quite wet. As soon as I'd gone, someone threw a big switch and turned summer on, the works – blue sky, hot sun. Only in Wales, mind – England was carpeted in a huge fog blanket the whole of Sunday. Ordinarily this wouldn't bother me too much, as long as they didn't flick the switch again on my return, but I am at this moment the caretaker, father, mother, of hundreds of tiny seedlings who all depend on me for their lives. They are all housed inside the polytunnel and greenhouse, protected from the wind and rain, but unfortunately not from the blazing sun which quickly ratcheted the temperature inside up to the mid-thirties. I returned on Monday to find an awful lot of very wilted looking pea shoots and other seedlings in various states of disrepair. Once I'd rushed them all out into the shade and watered them most of them began to get their colour back but a few, sadly, didn't make it. The tomato and aubergine seedlings on the other hand were absolutely loving it, shamelessly basking in the heat like Brits largin' it up in Benidorm. 

The polytunnel still looks bare..

..but some peas are coming up now. I'm still waiting for spinach, french beans, lettuce and borage to germinate.

When the sun is shining, the ground had dried out and all I have to do all day is potter about on my land sowing seeds, life seems pretty good again. I just have to ignore any thought with the phrase “planning permission” in it. Sadly it isn't always possible to do so, especially when I get emails from a planning officer. The latest is that the Highways Agency have objected to my planning application for the polytunnel, greenhouse and shed, on the basis that my land's entrance onto the A road has poor visibility. They have “directed refusal” on behalf of the Welsh Government. Quite what the site entrance has to do with my buildings I am not sure. Surely I am allowed to come and go as I please, with or without any such structures. Anyway the planning officer has asked them for more clarification (they specified the wrong A road) so I haven't had the chance to argue my case yet.

In the meantime I just carry on wearing my hoodie, sipping birch juice and sowing them seeds.