What I learned from keeping a garden

The rosemary is doing well. I mention this first because the basil died, the parsley is hesitant and one of the pots contains something I have not yet identified. It may be a seedling I planted. It may be taking advantage.

At the old house I had a narrow strip of garden for five summers. I grew beans, herbs and more courgettes than I could reasonably offer to neighbours. When I moved last October, I left most of it behind. There was no practical way to take a bed of soil with me, though I did briefly consider the matter.

Here I am starting with pots near the kitchen door. They looked manageable when they were empty. Filled with damp compost, they are heavy enough to make each change of plan a commitment.

What I brought with me

I brought a pair of secateurs, a trowel with a loose handle and a notebook containing several years of dates. The dates are less useful than I expected. The light is different here, the wall holds warmth differently and the wind reaches the corner I had thought was sheltered.

The notes about mistakes have travelled better. Don't buy seedlings before making room for them. Label things while the packet is still in your hand. Check the soil before adding water. I could have found this advice in a book, and probably did, but I began following it only after losing plants.

My first year at the old house, I watered every pot on the same schedule. This was convenient for me. It was less convenient for the plants in the shade. A neighbour finally suggested lifting one of the smaller pots before and after watering so I could feel the difference. I still do this when I am unsure.

The basil here spent its short life on a chilly sill. I kept moving it into what looked like better light and then forgetting that the window was open. There is no mystery to its failure. I have resisted buying another until the weather is warmer.

A smaller beginning

The old garden took several seasons to become familiar. I knew where water collected and which corner the cat preferred. I also knew that I could go away for a weekend if I asked someone to check it. Gardening was regular work, but it did not require me to stand over everything I had planted.

With the new pots I am trying to begin with less. Rosemary, thyme, a little parsley. A few leaves for dinner are enough while I learn the space. The seed catalogue is still on the table, folded at the page with climbing beans. I am leaving it there for now.

Yesterday I moved the rosemary half a metre away from the wall so the stems had room to spread. Under the pot was a small, perfectly protected weed. It had grown in the dark gap without any help from me.

I pulled it out, put the pot back down and tightened the handle of the trowel. That was the gardening for the day.