My father taught me that it is terribly important to do things properly.
And his carpentry and work around our house exemplified this philosophy.
This is my father, popping up through the roof in the process of making a dormer window for my bedroom.
And here is the window, completed. I am still amazed at this successful project of his.
But perhaps the fact that he also had several unfinished projects in the garden tells us something about that. Perfectionism can be hard and potentially depressing.
One project was making a paddling pool in the top of the air raid shelter, where the sand would have gone originally. Many repeated attempts never stopped it leaking. A lesson for pool makers, perhaps.
But he was also creative
and I think that is what I took on board. I remember us standing outside the garage which blocked the way to the back of the house, with the people who were buying the place after his death. None of us could work out how to get into the garage to get through to the back. Until someone accidentally leaned on the garden tap. And the garage door opened. Ah – to create burglar confusion.
I’m also lazy, so my creative energy has been directed towards how to get what I want with minimal effort, in the garden and the house. In the house the staple gun and one coat paint have been my allies.
You can guess just how I did this. (with the occasional disasters on the way.)
The garden has been more challenging.
But now Veddw is known for cut and drop in order to mulch our (outdoor) beds. For living with weeds long before they became fashionable. For not digging. For not feeding the garden or the household much, and in the garden, only in pots. For inventing our own sculpture and never making leaf mould. The compost heap is there as a rubbish dump and getting rid of a full one is a big challenge. I don’t clean the greenhouse or my flower pots. Or oil my tools. Bet you didn’t know you’re supposed to unless you are living with the sad result. Garden tools made of carbon steel, cast iron, and wrought iron need looking after.
No idea what I used to use this for. Poor thing!
I find myself wondering why people do more hard work in their gardens than necessary. I have to allow for people liking the work for its own sake. My mother in law liked weeding. A famous garden writer assures me she likes making compost. Maybe even turning it over now and then. As a favourite activity, as some of us like staying in bed reading. Fair enough.
But I think some people do far more than necessary in their gardens because they believe, like Dad, in doing things properly.
And yet the things that Victorian head gardeners invented to keep their gardeners busy over winter are not the best activities for time hungry home gardeners in their days off. Are they?
Perhaps they are being saved latterly by the notion of the Wild Garden. Nature roaming free and disinhibited. But they may also look at the wild lawn and wonder where their kids can play football now. Or wonder whether rats are truly desirable wild things which should be ‘encouraged’?
We need to change the narrative.
We need to accept that just a few books outlining outdated practices will suffice to instruct historical re-enactment. We need to accept that garden writers will always be stuck for copy and things to instruct their ‘followers’ to do. We don’t have to follow the instructions. We need to learn that some people like to do energetic and dirty things (like digging) but, like running marathons, it’s a minority activity.
The rest of us can begin to learn how to enjoy our gardens with less effort and more pleasure?
Confession – I knitted those jackets. But not properly: I didn’t use a pattern….