Last week I travelled what felt like the length and breadth of the country, with family visits and work commitments all crammed into a short space of time. As a result, I spent an entire seven days away from my garden and pining for the moment I could get back to tackle some weeds, cut the grass and sample my vegetables.I arrived home late on Saturday night, eagerly awaiting the next morning when I could get up and tackle my list of jobs in the garden. Sunday morning dawned bright and breezy and by breakfast time I was elbow deep in the veg patch. Breakfast consisted of some fast food - peas straight from the pod, fresh picked raspberries and some just pulled chatenay carrots. Certainly beats a MacDonald's.
What struck me most though as I was weeding out my rainbow chard, was how much I had missed the feel of the soil. I usually spend at least a few hours every day in the garden and my hands are constantly covered in mud. With a week off my hands were as clean as a surgeons, but that didn't feel quite right at all and it was with great pleasure that I thrust them into the soil the first opportunity I got yesterday. I am pleased to report they are now back to their normal selves.
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