The Z garden

Today, mostly gardening, all of us.  The ground in the further greenhouse has been getting too built up with the annual addition of ferrrrrtiliser, so when it's watered the water runs off onto and under the paths, so we've taken a few inches off the top.  I'm going to go back to growing tomatoes etc in bottomless pots, so as to channel the watering better again and see how that goes.  The cucumbers will still be planted in heaps of cow manure as the roots need plenty of room to spread out.  Back in the days when I had limited greenhouse space, I used to use growbags, and it was not hugely successful.  The plants would grow apace and need loads of watering, and then one day they would suddenly stop and sulk, and I'd not notice and within a couple more days they would fall over because the roots had got waterlogged.  I didn't ever get to the bottom of it, but I never had more than a month or so of cucumbers before the plants collapsed.  Now, they go on the whole summer.  Though I only sowed the seeds last week, they're only just showing their first leaves.

Some of the removed topsoil has been put on the lawn to replace what's been scratched out by the chickens.  It's still a disaster zone, but at least we're starting to do something about it.  The Sage is enclosing a fresh piece of grass for them to go on while other things recover - it won't be enough for them for long, but they're so ... well, I don't want to say "destructive" as it's so negative, but it's hard to find a better word, frankly.  If only they'd concentrate on the front field for a while it'd be all right - there's nearly 4 bloomin' acres there - 1 1/2 hectares, if that's the way you think - to keep them happy, but they like the garden and the other field.  Still, if push comes to shove I'd rather have happy bantams than a lawn.  I suppose.

Tonight, the Festival Committee, of whose doings I am the scribe, had the splendid idea of holding a meeting at the village pub.  Dilly and I trotted merrily home afterwards, although she'd been on the wagon. She is far more grown-up, in a good way, than I am.