Grrrrrrrrrr not Brrrrrrrrrr!

I'm not happy that I've been confined to the house for the past day or so - not because of the cold (and it certainly is!) but because I have a cold, and feeling pretty grim too. I was slightly tempted to set foot outside yesterday when I saw the sun shining on the snow, but it wouldn't have been a good idea as my temperature was going up and down. Then the sun disappeared and I was pleased I had been so sensible, and settled down with the Saturday Telegraph, a hot drink, and a box of tissues.

Last night was not too good either, as I slept very fitfully between coughing and sneezing, and getting up for a hot drink. Was disturbed, just before 6am, by two taxis outside our house. Appeared to be loooking for an address. Good job I've retreated to the spare room so I don't pass my germs on to M, and at least he can get some sleep himself. This morning is very grey and it's snowing lightly. Pleased we have been keeping the birds well fed as there are always a few of them on the feeders and bird-table, especially greenfinches, blue-tits and great-tits and blackbirds. We would usually see fieldfares and redwings at this time of the year, but perhaps it is just too cold for them here too. Yesterday I watched two foxes foraging for food in the field opposite our house

So, as I can't talk about what I'm currently doing in the garden, on the allotment, or with the walking club etc, I thought I'd take the opportunity to highlight one or two of my interests, starting with gardening/allotmenteering. The garden of my grandmother's house in Liverpool (where we first lived) was the first one I remember, and could describe it fairly well even now, with its laburnam, forsythia, lilacs, pinks and roses, and the fruit at the bottom, near the laurel hedge. I was often tempted to steal one or two raspberries, but my gran was pretty quick off the mark, banging on the window with her first and raising a warning finger. Both my parents were keen gardeners and enjoyed visiting gardens and parks to admire the flowers. As an adolescent I found the slow parade around the flower beds to be extremely boring. Little did I know, at the time, that I'd turn into a product of my parents, and do the same thing myself to my own children. So, once M & I married and moved into our first home, our garden eventually became my pride and joy as I became more successful with my planting and sowing.

We moved to our present home when our boys were young. The back garden was a challenge, as it was smaller than those of our neighbours, narrowed down to a point, and very overhung by neighbours' trees. I like a challenge, and I'd soon established a woodland section at the very bottom, now well established with lots of hellebores and snowdrops, and shade loving perennials. Perennials are my thing really, especially hardy geraniums. There's one for every situation, from the shade lovers to the more exotic and slightly tender ones. For some years I belonged to the Hardy Plant Society and the RHS, and took full advantage of their free seed distribution, experimenting with all sorts of interesting and challenging plants, some of which are still flourishing. To help raise sponsorship money for our son A's trip to Iceland I even opened our garden and grew hundreds of plants to sell. The open weekend was a reasonable success despite the dreadful weather, but the plants continued to sell for weeks and we raised over £250.

The garden was not suitable for veg growing, so we put our names down at The Hill. In the meantime we took on a plot at Sheffield Road, which was a bit inconvenient to get to in the week, as I don't drive, but we did what we could at the weekends. Then a half plot came up at The Hill, followed by another half plot, and eventually a full plot (which, if I remember correctly, is the very same plot I have now). This made all the difference, as it was within walking distance, so I could fit in my time there, with my motherly duties. There was no shed, so I carried my tools back and forth, returning home with bags laden with produce for us, and to share with neighbours. At the time, there didn't appear to be many women plot-holders, and I was often asked why 'he' didn't help me, despite the fact it was my interest and not M's. There were a few comments too, about my strange vegetables, such as calabrese and florence fennel. When my mother became very ill with cancer, I spent a number of weeks with her in Sheffield, returning home only at the weekends. As a result, my plot became rather neglected and the weeds began to set their seeds. Mum lost her fight, and I lost my interest in the plot and gave it up.

Twenty-five years later, a year last October, I took on my half plot. It had been neglected for some time, and with a little trepidation I set to work, but I was soon back into the swing of things and now it's looking well tended and has produced plenty of fruit and veg over the twelve months or so. I even won Best Newcomer Half Plot, and 2nd Best Half Plot, and a handful of prizes at the Annual Show - the first time I've ever entered anything like that. However, the real prize is the pleasure it gives me. Although I can (just) see my plot from our windows, I could be a million miles away from the house. It's so peaceful down there - that is, until my lovely, neighbouring plot-holders start chatting and laughing! I've got my own little shed too.

Just before Christmas I came home with plenty of winter salad. If I could dig them out of the icy ground there are turnips, parsnips, celeriac and leeks, and icy cabbages too. When I last visited the plot, at New Year, the garlic was well up, and the broad beans, although looking a bit limp, were surviving under the fleece tunnel. One of my Blue Hubbard squashes made a wonderful soup for our Christmas Day meal, and there's another on stand-by for the next big family event. At home, sweet peas are doing OK in the greenhouse, but I can't open the door at the moment as it is frozen shut.

It's snowing heavily now and very grim and grey, so I thought I'd add a photo taken outside my greenhouse at home, on a warm, sunny day, when I'd just returned from the plot with a basket of produce.