This morning the garden murderer had a big sleep and I got to do some gardening. I've hardly done any this week and a big part is that I fear that any I do will be pulled apart in the interests of science. Maybe Ernest Rutherford pulled the garden to bits when he was 22 months also, but if so then I bet his mother got mighty annoyed on occasion.
I finished weeding the garlic and strawberry bed (these are supposedly not good companions but they were in there together before I found out) and then chopped lots of seaweed into small pieces. I strewed the seaweed over the garden bed and then threw around trowel loads of sheep poo. Apparently this is 'cold manure' and won't burn plant roots if it is put straight on the garden. Chook, cow and horse manure are hot and need to be composted first.
On top of all this went a thick layer of pea straw. No doubt the blackbirds will strew this to every corner of the earth, but a girl has to make some effort to stop the weeds from taking over.
I placed a cloche over top of one strawberry plant recently which is how I got to eat three strawberries this week instead of the blackbirds. Very yummy.
The rest of the gardening time I spent harvesting slugs from underneath logs and taking them to slaughter. The chooks were very happy with this.
The fox returns and life continues
3 days ago