‘Who painted those bits of timber?’ asks Robin staring down at his feet.
I reply, ‘I did of course. Nice colour, it’s Forest Green.’
‘I know it is green. I have it all over my feet!’ exclaims
Robin pointing the tips of his wings towards two green feet’.
‘Sorry, but it will wash off.’
‘If it will wash off why did you put it on?’ answers a
bemused Robin.
I’ll have to think about that one as watch him hop off to a
new perch with his new green undercarriage.
The debate over raised beds and whether they are fashion or the
true and only way to grow will continue and many will dig in and remain rooted
in their viewpoint. Like dig versus no dig opinions are often fixed and aligned
to one side of the fence or the other.
On day one we started our raised bed venture. Would we have
started if we had not been given a load of timber decking? I doubt it.
In response to the post Grenfell building and insurance
licence needs, our estate has had to ban timber decking from balconies and any
installed have had to be removed. So, armed with good timber reclaimed from
just a couple of balconies and which was destined for the skip, we decided to
build some raised beds.
Like many gardeners one skims the hundreds of ‘how to’ and ‘best
approach’ information that litter the internet and then decide to do it our own
way. Many will say, ‘that’s wrong’ or ‘good idea’, but…
So first the decision was taken not to do the whole plot but
one area some 18 feet by 16 feet and to leave the rest as is. The area is
relatively flat and has good soil.
The second decision was the size and layout of the beds. I did
not want to create loads of unproductive paths but equally I didn’t want huge
beds I could not lean over and touch all within. The timber dictated both
length and width and even height. So they were to be two metres long and one
metre wide with four beds across the back and three at the front. As for the height
two planks or just shy of a foot.
I know some say it’s not a raised bed unless its 2-foot-high,
others have different heights but as I said, timber dictates and frankly there
is no right or wrong answer just opinion.
The next exercise was to level the area which sounds easy
but is not and it’s interesting to find a slope you never knew. Then we laid a
sheet of tarpaulin across. The tarp eventually would sit under the paths and
the edges of the beds and be cut inside the beds and rolled back and up inside
the timbers to offer some protection. But for now, it protected the soil and
hopefully deterred Mr. Fox.
As AstroTurf was also coming off balconies and going to land
fill I collected enough to lay on top of the tarp to make the paths. Some may argue
that Astro Turf is not environmentally friendly and I would agree but it is
better to be used here than be dumped in landfill and some would say it is
effective recycling and best of all, it’s hated by slugs.
Halfway into making the frames it started to rain and I was
running out of screws, so rain stopped play on day one.
Day two I discovered Foxy had proudly examined my work and left a huge sloppy mess on the planks. Was that his endorsement of the work or what he thought of it?
Today I quickly finish off the fourth of the raised beds and
line them up for painting.
I think it better to get the back beds tucked in and asleep than
build more and find problems.
The work is interrupted by some nice rotted manure coving
available at the farm. So armed with wheelbarrow and bags, eight large sacks
are collected and piled onto the plot. Muck is heavy and an old man’s back
aches with the loads, so it is back to painting.
I have a crowd of spectators gathered around to see what is
happening. Squirrel sits on top of the last sunflower busy scoffing the seeds
and pretending he is at some sporting event and sitting back watching the
action. Lottie is on her bench and has one eye on me and one on the squirrel
and dreaming of the chase. The black and white moggy from the farm is creeping
around the back of the plot watching me. The Robin is perched on the bee house.
This is where the sloppy fence paint ends up on your hands,
on the floor and all over your clothes and shoes and if you are lucky, the
frames. It’s a good job I’ve got a green tarpaulin as it hides the drips and splodges
of paint.
I finish off two frames and then take a break before swapping
them over to paint the other two. The paint may look dry, it may be touch dry,
but you end up with paint lines all over and hoots of laughter from the audience.
That is except for Robin who is now puzzled by the green footprints he is leaving
behind him and uttering expletives at me under his red breast.
‘I heard that!’ I shout across at him.
‘Good, I ment it!’ he replies.
Finally, job done and time to go home and I look proudly
over my paintwork and think tomorrow they will be lined up and filled.
Just then a pigeon who must have been on a recce deposits a
nice white dollop on one of the frames. Are they trying to tell me something
these neighbours of mine?
