My child and I were bonding over our hit-and-miss approach to reaping crops. But with heatwaves pushing more of Britain into drought, it’s starting to feel like a luxury we can’t afford
For the first time in my life, I live in a home that has real outdoor space. What a concept! There are no downsides to a garden. Back in spring, I made grand plans – I watched all the TikToks, I bought seeds and trays and pots and grow bags, I ordered soil, a trowel and a watering can. I knew what I was after: super-tiny-scale subsistence farming with a side of Zen. A little fruit, a little veg, lots of flowers to attract pollinators. And I knew I wanted my elder child to gain an understanding of how things come to be and how to cope if and when they fail.
We love a tomato side salad, so that was the first thing we attempted. The seedlings flourished and then died in the first heatwave of the season. An omen, surely. The dahlias, ranunculus and freesias refused to grow, let alone bloom. My enthusiasm began to wane.
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