JULY

Last July, my leek crop failed.

Culprit: the Allium Leaf Miner.

I read about it in my brand new gardener’s companion.

The adult of the species punctures the plant and sucks up the sap before laying her eggs. White dots on the leaves are the first sign of danger. (How was I to know?)

Then the maggots get to work.

Lovely, huh?

There was a picture of distorted, twisted foliage that made me feel quite sick.

Lest the horrid little buggers survived to inflict more damage, I built a bonfire at the bottom of the garden and burned the entire crop. The physical effort and disappointment made me sweaty and cross. I could not believe how heartbroken I felt.

It’s something I never imagined when I embarked on my mission to feed myself – that vegetable growing could stir up so many emotions. But it’s dawning on me that even the most seasoned gardeners have to deal with bad crops. Even with focus, time, back-breaking work and the utmost care, success is never guaranteed.

I’ve decided to view each thing that comes into my garden – good or bad - as an opportunity to learn. So with each damaged crop, I get another chance to move forward and try something new.

And this July, I actually have a glut of leeks. So I’ve gone from famine to feast! It’s lucky I like them. Posy’s doing her best to help, too, cooking everything imaginable with leeks. (Although her experiment with leek and parsley chutney will definitely not go down in history as the greatest of culinary triumphs.)

P.S. Oh, the unbridled joy of digging up the first new potatoes of the season (they come out clean, as if already scrubbed). It’s best to take them straight to the pan and savour their wonderful, earthy taste with melted butter.

There’s a lot to be said for this gardening lark!