Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Staining my fingers with their aroma

I have a thing about fresh herbs. I love the thought of big bunches of them stuffed into a jug, strewn on the kitchen bench, thrown into cooking by a generous handful or staining my fingers with their aroma while still in the soil. The extortionately-priced and meanly proportioned cellophane-wrapped packets you can buy from the supermarket have never done it for me, nor have my attempts at growing herbs in pots. One of the great appeals of having a big garden for me has always been the desire to have my own herb garden.

While almost three years have passed since I bought the country house and I still find myself clearing and planning and procrastinating, on the weekend something momentous happened: I completed a small project: I planted my kitchen garden.'s not quite as impressive as that sounds. I almost finished planting one small garden bed, which is predominately devoted to herbs for cooking.

The herbs I have chosen for this area are the perennial cooking herbs, I'm going to put the annuals like parsley, coriander and basil in tubs. I have planted: Italian thyme, lemon thyme, Greek oregano, sweet marjoram, rosemary, garlic chives, sage and winter savoury. French tarragon won't be around for another couple of weeks so I have left a space for that. I have also planted a bay tree and a fig tree, both of which I've surrounded by Italian lavender and which I'll keep pruned so they stay small. I'm going to fill the gaps with those tiny, wild alpine strawberries. The next stage is to drain a small pond, which borders the bed and is permanently filled with some sort of annoying weed. The plan is to fill that with peppermint.

I'll post some photos soon.

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