Haven't put my new plants out yet...Himself disappeared down to the bottom of the garden, he had the strimmer going, so thought I'd better leave him to it instead of asking him to help me...
Planting the plants isn't a problem, but filling the pots up with new compost is...he'd left the bags in the wheelbarrow...it's been a while since I lifted anything heavier than a glass of wine actually and bags of John Innes would be quite beyond me...
They'll come to no harm for a day or so...not sure where I can put the asters though...picked the tray up without thinking it through 'cos I do love the sugary colours and shaggy heads...bet the slugs will make a beeline for them wherever I decide to put them...
It sounds so silly to say there isn't a space in the actual garden to plant them out...but there isn't anymore...practically all of what was flowers is now grass...
I used to grow rows of flowers for cutting at one time...that worked so well because the groups of plantings could remain undisturbed while the cutting garden provided enough flowers to sell along with eggs and to take to the country market every week...
The country market was small but thriving...run by the stalwart members of the Irish version of the WI...it was hard work but good fun and I met so many interesting people who came to buy cakes and eggs...jams and pickles...breads and savoury tarts, along with bunches of fresh flowers and bedding plants...
Unfortunately the lease expired on the building...it was just a rather tatty room with shelves for the goods...nowhere else could be found, so the country market ended.
There is now a rather better organised country market held every week outside the King House in Boyle...the stall holders have blue and white striped canopies for their stalls...it's a real tourist magnet in the summer...organic fruit and vegetables, he has the most delicious ripe apricots and figs and gorgeous black cherries...another man sells cheeses...there are two bakers who have home-baked cakes...their Danish pastries are alarmingly expensive, but so moreish!
Sometimes a local Harpist plays nearby...or there'll be a demonstration of basket making or wood turning...
A German woman sells huge bunches of flowers from her garden...another has a multitude of herbs with clay markers stating their name...
It was here I once met with a self-published author of books about his childhood...now, he went to school barefoot and took a tatty in his pocket for the dinner...he was a lovely man altogether...farmed out to a remote relative when he was a little boy, because his mother was widowed and she had too many children to care for...he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye and flirted outrageously while signing the copy of his book I bought...
Perhaps I'll make the effort to get up earlier on a Saturday so we can go there again...
Writing Stories...
