I planted my first broad beans at dusk. It wasn't a carefully timed thing, tuning in to the phases of the moon, or whatever. I'd forgotten to do it, and noticed the light was going, and since the seeds had got a bit damp from when I left the packet in the rain overnight it seemed urgent.
I carefully read the packet (I'm fully trained) and cleared the bit of the raised beds newly designated broad bean worthy. The tomatoes will have to go elsewhere this year. I created the 25cm/9 inch wide flat trench 5cm/2" deep and spaced my seeds in trench 1, 25cm/9" apart. I'd watered it already. I then covered the beans in soil, so there they were, planted at the correct distance and depth, according to the packet. I put some chicken wire over the trench, so the cat didn't imagine I'd kindly made him a new loo.
I moved on to trench 2. I had to shuffle around some shallots, which seemed to have been put in the wrong place. I must talk to the help. I shovelled the soil to create another trench, working from one side, and then the other. The light was failing and I thought I'd come across an indication that the cat had been there before me. I poked the indication, and noticed it was a strange shape. And had a foot. I picked up the indication. It was a frog. I thought I was holding evidence that I'd just decapitated a frog. Perhaps the cat had played with it. I decided that once I'd finished the bean planting, I would go all CSI on the frog, within the limitations of my general ignorance, the lack of light and the fact that it was covered in soil, and put it to one side while completing the task. Five minutes later I reentered the house with the floppy frog and looked at it under electric light. It seemed complete, and what I'd thought was spade work on a fragile amphibian body turned out to be a pocket of soil on a loose-skinned hibernating frog. I hoped. I held it out to show my daughter, who asked why are you showing me a dead bird? I waved a frog foot at her and she said a frog was even more disgusting and asked me to take it elsewhere. Since I'd discovered that frogs do bury themselves in soil to hibernate, I went and dug a shallow hole and popped the floppy frog in it, topped it with around 5cm/2" soil, scattered some leaves around and left it, planted like a broad bean, where I hope it is unlikely to be discovered by the cat.
I wanted frogs in the garden. They eat slugs.
I carefully read the packet (I'm fully trained) and cleared the bit of the raised beds newly designated broad bean worthy. The tomatoes will have to go elsewhere this year. I created the 25cm/9 inch wide flat trench 5cm/2" deep and spaced my seeds in trench 1, 25cm/9" apart. I'd watered it already. I then covered the beans in soil, so there they were, planted at the correct distance and depth, according to the packet. I put some chicken wire over the trench, so the cat didn't imagine I'd kindly made him a new loo.
I moved on to trench 2. I had to shuffle around some shallots, which seemed to have been put in the wrong place. I must talk to the help. I shovelled the soil to create another trench, working from one side, and then the other. The light was failing and I thought I'd come across an indication that the cat had been there before me. I poked the indication, and noticed it was a strange shape. And had a foot. I picked up the indication. It was a frog. I thought I was holding evidence that I'd just decapitated a frog. Perhaps the cat had played with it. I decided that once I'd finished the bean planting, I would go all CSI on the frog, within the limitations of my general ignorance, the lack of light and the fact that it was covered in soil, and put it to one side while completing the task. Five minutes later I reentered the house with the floppy frog and looked at it under electric light. It seemed complete, and what I'd thought was spade work on a fragile amphibian body turned out to be a pocket of soil on a loose-skinned hibernating frog. I hoped. I held it out to show my daughter, who asked why are you showing me a dead bird? I waved a frog foot at her and she said a frog was even more disgusting and asked me to take it elsewhere. Since I'd discovered that frogs do bury themselves in soil to hibernate, I went and dug a shallow hole and popped the floppy frog in it, topped it with around 5cm/2" soil, scattered some leaves around and left it, planted like a broad bean, where I hope it is unlikely to be discovered by the cat.
I wanted frogs in the garden. They eat slugs.
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