Lockdown Gardening in a Second-floor Flat

A year ago, I was living in a bungalow with a large garden. It was rented and there was no lawn, but I had plenty of space to plant things and watch the flowers grow. 

I don't know about you, but I always find green things like trees and tall grasses waving around in the sunshine make me feel better. Watching seeds grow gives me hope and the colours of flowers warms my little heart.

As I said in my previous blog, my heart decided to give up last August and I'm still in and out of hospital as we speak. As a result, I’ve had to move into a retirement flat so that I'm near the hospital and have a warden available if I collapse.

It seems like only yesterday that I was twenty-five years old and playing around in the snow in my dragon jumper. Now, I’m suddenly 61, with a heart condition, living with other old ladies who are a lot older than me.

The worst part about being here is that they won't allow pets. I did ask the landlord if I could have sixteen rats, but he didn't seem to like this idea.

The other thing is that I have no garden of my own. 

Last year, for my birthday, my brother gave me some roses in pots. These are now with a trusted friend because there's no room for them in my flat. I don’t think being indoors, facing north, with no sunlight would do them any good. 

I did ask the warden if I could have my roses planted in the grounds, but he simply grumped at me in a grumpy kind of way. 

Never one to be put off by minor obstacles such as heart failure, lack of money and no garden, I have found a way.

In one corner of my room, by the window, I have a small table  on which I’ve got some seedlings growing. I and my seedlings sit by the window every day, trying to get as much light as possible while I write my books. The seedlings don't help with the writing much as they can't hold a pen very well or make sentences, but they do their best.

Outside, in the communal grounds, I've taken over a neglected corner far from the eyes of the grumpy warden. I've pulled away some of the ivy and planted some seedlings. A lady on the ground floor is rather cheered by my attempts at horticulture against the odds and is watering them for me.

I say against the odds, because the "front garden" is just an ivy choked, abandoned herbaceous border with trees. 

Nothing can grow there and the ground is rock-hard and dry, tangled with ivy roots.

I call this patch of ground "The Tulgey Wood" and have been posting videos on Facebook about it. I think there might be fairies in there. In fact, I’m sure I saw one the other day. Maybe there are other magic creatures there too?