When I was a little girl I spent a lot of time at my Grandparents house.  My Mum was a single parent until I was 3 and had to work so I stayed with them a lot and once she met my Dad it carried on.  I loved going there and they were so used to it that it just seemed natural.

My Grandparents had two gardens.  A small lawn near the front of the house and then a large sprawling plot at the back that was more allotment than garden!  Granny had a space to grow her roses, her absolute favourite flower.  I never knew what types they were but remember a sea of different colours.  Grandpa grew fruit and veg.  It seemed at the time that there was pretty much every type going.  All the basics plus beetroot, gooseberries and rhubarb.  They also shared several apple and plum trees with their neighbour.

I used to spend hours there with Grandpa and his dogs.  He’d be weeding or digging up veg.  I’d be either playing amongst the bushes or looking after my own little patch.  Granny would pop out mid-morning, have a look at her roses and collect whatever vegetables she needed for dinner. Over time both Granny and Grandpa got ill and eventually they had to move to sheltered accomadation.  Mum helped them tend their new, much smaller garden but I know Grandpa missed his plot dreadfully.

I long for a garden where I could grow some of our own food but our current garden is so small there just isn’t any room.  My mother-in-law has been growing runner beans this year and we’ve had some of those but her neighbours have managed to cram a tremendous amount into their garden.  Last week we were given the last of their Rhubarb with a request to make something and bring it across at the weekend.