Planting a Vegetable Garden in Ireland, Red Lipstick and an Apple and Almond Tart for Tea

The buttercups came out and the potatoes went in. Of course, Lord and Lady Robin were there to oversee the proceedings with delighted interest. The buttercups are thick and dense. I have no doubt that despite digging deep into their warren of roots, they will be back as strong as ever. As to the potatoes, chits down or up, I never can remember?

I have chosen carrots, spring onions, broccoli, beetroot, parsnips and spinach for our crop this year. I am in incredible awe at these nonchalant little seed packets that cost a few euros only. The instantly recognisable crop on the image promises perfection, weed and pest free, glistening with dew.

There is nothing glamorous about gardening however. I am in old trousers, jacket and beanie with muddy gardening gloves and somehow, muddy fingernails too.

After the weeding and planting and regular watering for days, comes the mot excellent of days when I will pronounce “They’re Up!”.

We see the wonky rows appear, at first like little green hairs and then leaves that reassure me they are a different breed than the weeds. At last I feel like a true Gardener with dear Beverly Nichols at my side, reminding me of the delights, the nosy neighbours speculating and the anticipation of what’s to come. I regularly turn to him for both gardening advice and good cheer.

The wigwam of peas is my absolute favourite. It is my favourite to pick and eat, and also to watch grow, catching their little tendrils like holding a toddlers fingers while they take their first steps.

I race in to wash up and collect the children from school. It has been a long time since my hair met with the care of a hairdresser, almost 2 years in fact! So, a hat is in order. The hat screams for red lipstick. The children are embarrassed as no-other-parents-are-wearing-hats. At least the Covid mask covers the red lipstick and they still recognise me as their mother.

We zoom home, hungry and make apple pie. It is my holier-than-thou attempt to teach my son some baking, albeit with pastry from a packet. We roll it out and bake it in the oven, whilst chopping all the apples in the house and sautéing them in a skillet, very gently, with butter, maple syrup, cinnamon, star anise and vanilla. I tell him to arrange them in the pastry shell. before they break up into mush. It appeals to his architectural brain - the lines of symmetry and golden spirals. We sprinkle the affair with sultanas and flaked almonds and bake in the oven before eating warm with creamy Hagen Dazs Vanilla ice cream. It should of course be homemade, but we’re still in the growing phase of the garden - perhaps by the time it bears fruit, we will have advanced to pastry and ice cream skills, and a decision that Mum is trendy in a hat, not ancient?