I nearly died in February, the surgeon told me last month (July). So I am busy this month updating my will and doing anything else that needs doing, if I am to exit stage left from my life’s drama.
And I then spent March mainly on my sofa day and night as my stomach was heavily bandaged after a major operation for bowel cancer. But I did manage to plant my seeds, somewhat late this year, to germinate on any indoor windowsill I could reach. The plate (above) shows what I have managed to grow and watching these plants (and trees) grow and fruit has kept me positive.
My efforts have produced figs, plums and rhubarb for my meals, along with tomatoes, cucumbers, courgettes, broad beans and beetroot and there is still more to come which will include lettuces, and may include peppers and aubergines, possibly, plus some things I have forgotten I planted out.
But my gardening journey started last year when Covid seemed to be going on for ever, and I learnt I had prostate cancer and was still Editor of Rye News. Up to that point, my garden had comprised a lawn, with a path on the left up to the back gate and a seasonal outbreak of gro-bags in which I used to grow some vegetables.
So I decided I needed a project to cheer myself up, and take my mind off Covid, which was something other than filling up Rye News every week. And I felt hemmed in by neighbouring houses and overlooked by the path that ran up the hill at the end of the garden (as you can see in the photo above).
I therefore engaged jobbing gardener, drag artist, bingo caller and photographer Tim Redfern (who took these pictures). After much discussion, many diagrams, and stronger men than I, the garden acquired, on the left hand side and at the end, trellis work over which (I promise) various plants would climb.
And, at the same time, various plant “boxes” were constructed which freed up some paving stones which were then used to double the size of the patio, and a loggia was constructed on the left to take hanging baskets and more “climbers” – and give the patio a bit of “atmosphere”.
And climb the plants did as the photo below shows which features a kiwi plant heading up the trellis along with tomato plants (now in boxes) where once gro-bags had rested.
All this helped take my mind off seemingly endless trips to Eastbourne Hospital, and the switchback of Covid events, eventually contained, on the whole (we hope), by a series of “jabs” protecting us from the latest version of the bug.
But I was running out of steam last year, stepped down as Editor, started treatment with pills and injections for the prostate – and then (an unhelpful present on the eve of Christmas) was told I had got bowel cancer as well.
However, I had a very different garden to look out on now, and the changes had given me something positive on which to focus and the loggia brought new life into my garden as I hung bird feeders below it.
I was fascinated by the parent birds feeding their children (apparently of the same size) who were on top of the loggia because they had not yet learnt to hover.
But adding height to the garden fences and installing a loggia was not enough. This year’s positive project was to make use of a flowerbed which never got any sun and had been mainly used (with mixed success) for growing spuds.
I decided the garden needed a pond (I had built a fairly unsuccessful one in Torquay when I first retired) and, if at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. Needless to say Tim provided the muscle and some rocks and some heavy black plastic lining and there was a pond, which even my second ex-wife was impressed with.
So my garden has provided me with a positive purpose during a very difficult period (of Covid and cancer), but I think gardens are much more than that.
During my nearly 20 years in Whitehall as a senior civil servant, I worked a lot on issues around climate change and global warming. We have seen some of the consequences this summer in terms of temperatures and droughts; long term that means we should rethink how to use our gardens (and protect them, and the creatures which depend on them). I will consider some of those issues in a future article.
Also, in a separate article I shall look at my garden through an artist’s eyes, as I think a garden can be a work of art – both in terms of what we plant, and in how we organise and arrange it. But that is for another time.
As (apparently) I nearly died in February, I have spent nearly two hours today talking to a solicitor about becoming very ill and then dying (not a fun conversation, but a necessary one). As someone who has trained to be a psychotherapist, I think gardens are very “grounding” and have helped me look outside myself – and I suspect many gardeners will agree.
Image Credits: Tim Redfern .