Recently, I've been looking out of the window at the garden with an increasing sense of guilt (or, as I prefer to think of it, 'the nagging voices of success'). I've done a bit of weeding, but otherwise nothing much since my mum helped me dig up the willow hedge a few weeks ago.
Last weekend I decided it was about time I planted some seeds. But then it started raining, and a friend popped round for a cuppa, so I stayed inside and made labels from an old plastic milk carton, cut into strips. I don't like to buy plant labels, and have tried all kinds of other things (lolly sticks, card wrapped in sellotape, labelling the plant pots) but this has to be the most successful. Perhaps not very pretty, but they're only going in the greenhouse, not the ground.
When the sun came back out I had a box of seeds, and a pile of labels, and headed outside. But then I remembered I'd bought some reduced herbs from the supermarket, and planned to rescue them and repot in bigger pots. I was taught the art of herb rescue by Fay, my Orkney friend (who's no longer in Orkney) and her rescued supermarket basil.
I also rescued a pot each of coriander and flat leaf parsley, and they were in an equally sorry state.
And I didn't even remember to take a picture of the finished cup and saucer planter.
So I still haven't planted any seeds, or turned the compost, or rebuilt the mini greenhouse. But I do at least have a little bit of basil on the windowsill now. It's a start...
What are you growing? Have you planted more seeds than me?