Gardening is such a lovely pastime. I hear. Michael is far more dedicated to this craft than I. Sporadically, at least. We had a vegetable garden last year. We planted zucchini, tomatoes, potatoes, corn and pumpkin. You would expect that from such a bountiful sowing we would reap a bountiful harvest.
But we did not.
Lack of water, nutrients and care conspired to destroy our dreams of vegetable self-sufficiency. Oh the heartbreak.
And then there were the chickens. Four chickens, chosen individually by four excited and caring children. From day one, the novelty had pretty much worn off for them. I greatly appreciated the constant supply of eggs, whilst Michael, the only vocally disagreeable (/disinterested) participant from the outset, ended up caring for our feathered friends.
Two years later and, patience tested beyond the point of no return, Michael suggested we pass them (the chickens, not the children) on to a more loving home. The final straw was when one died and it took some time for me to notice.
The good news, out of all of this, is that we apparently possess the power to be tomato herders. We were very pleasantly surprised to discover this crop growing in the now disused chicken coop.
Nicely shaded by a large almond tree, this little sandpit has transformed itself into a veritable paradise. Never one to believe that although I have failed in the past at such things, success is not possible; we are going to stake these and see what can be made to happen.
We are going to be urban farmers yet, just you wait and see.