When he and my Mother first moved to our family home he was quick to dig over two thirds of the back garden in order to grow enough veg to feed his growing family. Like his Dad before him he grew regimented rows of potatoes, leeks and carrots. My Mum sowed lettuces and other salad crops and they planted fruit canes and strawberry plants. By the time I was born the vegetable garden was supplying the majority of the fruit and veg that my parents needed.
Dad in his vegetable garden in the1970's
As I got older I helped my Dad in the garden and planted a little garden of my own growing sunflowers and radishes. I may have resented the lack of space in the garden to ride my bike but I loved eating the spoils of my Fathers hard work!
Many a Sunday was spent watching my Father digging up the vegetables that accompanied our Sunday roast, it all seemed quite magical to me that such a small seed could grow into a leafy cabbage or an abundant tomato plant. That feeling of magic still remains each time I watch a plant grow, each time I pick something from my garden and turn it into supper.
Dad's garden in the 1980's
Years later when we my partner and I bought this place it was Dad who helped build beds, erect greenhouses and put together the polytunnel. He taught me about companion planting, gave advice about what to plant and where and poured over seed catalogues with me, both dreaming of spring in the depths of winter. We were gardening partners in crime...
My Dad is no longer here, but his passion for gardening and nature lives on. Many of the tools I use in the garden were his, some belonged to his Father before him. The fruit canes he planted continue to crop each summer and I still refer to the gardening books he bought me when we first started out here. I miss my Dad tremendously but it's in the garden I feel closest to him, his passion for gardening was one of his greatest gifts to me and for that I'll always be grateful.
