This summer I shall be reprising my role of ‘Girl who gardens in a bumbling and accident-prone manner, and is perpetually shocked by anything botantical that survives or, in fact, exists’. The bit of dirt with VEGETABLES in it, will be making a come-back. I’m hoping to do carrots, runner beans, parsnips, spring onions, lettuces and cabbages. No tomatoes this year, I am still totally not over last year’s grudge.

Yesterday I potted on a load of plugs, and set-up my little plastic cold-frame in a sunny spot. The house once again looks like The Little Shop of Horrors, and that is no bad thing. We have a tree in our kitchen, that I insist on calling a Catkin, since it makes my mother hysterically shriek ‘PUSSY WILLOW’ at me (which is one of the funniest things in the world).

I got in the gardening mood again, thanks to Purple Fred. I’m sure I’ve introduced him before – he’s a purple Primula. Last year he was perpetually on the brink of death, therefore my Dad loves him. My Dad delights in telling me that all of my plants are dead, and that I’ve personally had a hand in their downfall, even if said plant was attempting to grow up his trouser-leg at the time. This year, Purple Fred has come back with a vengeance and has multiplied.

After he’s finished flowering, I’m going to try and split him up into more plants. That should be fun. (Not.) He’s the only bit of colour we have at the moment though, so I’m doing my very best not to kill him, DAD.

At the end of last year, I said I wanted to plant some snowdrop bulbs. Mum bought me a pack of cheap ones from Tesco, and in they went. Then I was donated a bunch of tulip bulbs, and dahlia bulbs. Then Mum went overboard and bought every bulb that Tesco owned (except light bulbs, that would just be silly) – our garden is packed with them now, and I don’t know where anything is. Which means I’m perpetually shocked when things like this happen.

What IS that? No, seriously. It’s not even like a daffodil. I have no idea. ‘citing, though!

Ferrisey is loving the new gardening kick though. I do most of my planting in our conservatory, which is a real sun trap. Ferris loves it, he has his own sofa in there because it’s far too cold to go sit in there most of the time. He’s happy that we’re letting him back in though – he’s been banned all Winter, and has sat by the door whining pathetically, despite the fact that it was below freezing out there. Silly dog.

He spends most of his time snoozling in there.

And finally, nothing like a nice picture of some snowdrops to cheer you up.

I think next year I’ll plant a load of snowdrop bulbs in some tubs and hopefully have lots of happy clumps like this.

Now, I’d better go and watch the new Gardener’s World that I taped!

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas at Castle Mort. Preparations are beginning early this year, in anticipation of Mum being too poorly when December does roll around.

We’ve planted lots of bulbs in the garden, ready for spring. In fact we’ve got more bulbs than garden now, since every time Mum leaves the house she returns with another box of bulbs. There is now a bulb ban in force here.

All of the potted plants have been moved into the greenhouse. All of my cuttings are in the cold frame. The tomatoes have yet to be thrown out, and we’re going to make chutney with the ones that haven’t ripened yet. I’m thinking of growing some more potatoes to use at Easter.

This weekend I decided to make the Christmas cake though. Well, two cakes. I always make a second for Grandpa Mort. He never shares.

Every year I think my baking gets better. This year has been the best to date, so by the time I’m 35 I should be able to top Delia.

My favourite bit is after the cakes have cooled. I wrap them up in brown paper and tie them with red wool. I think they look so festive like this, and it’s nice to take to Grandpa’s house in a proper bundle. It makes me feel like Little Red Riding Hood.

Then they get popped in the Christmas biscuit tin, which sits on the kitchen table and cheers me up every time I see it.

This is a tradition I made up myself, really. But it’s one of my favourites.

I’ve made progress on my Holiday Inn quilt too. Ferris gave his approval last week.

And so today I bought the fabric that I needed, and spent a good two hours finishing off the quilt top.

Do you know how difficult it is to take a picture of your entire bed, but without being miles away from it? VERY DIFFICULT.

I’m better at artsy shots anyway.

It’s almost finished. I just need to sort out the backing. I think I’m going to make a couple of pretty little cushions out of the leftover fabric, just to break up that big expanse of green that is covering the pillows. But I definitely like it.

What do you think?

So I have swine flu. I can’t say I recommend it.

Anyway we dug up the potatoes today. I say ‘we’, I mean my Dad did, whilst Ferris and I got in the way, and I say ‘dug up’, I mean ‘turned the bag upside down and bashed it about a bit until stuff fell out’.

We got quite a few really, and only two duds. This was just a ‘grow your own potatoes’ kit from Wilkinson’s, and the soil that came with it was air compacted. We broke it up and watered it to death, but nothing has grown in that soil, only the compost that I topped it up with. So we’d probably have done better if half the sack wasn’t filled with sucky compost.

Let’s just hope that they taste nice! If they do, I’d like to give this another go just before Christmas.

Ferris seems to approve anyway. But he approves anything that involves getting covered in dirt.