Autumn Foraging.

As the nights draw in I have been in a last dash to tame the garden ready for Winter; harvesting the vegetable dregs before the slugs are over-indulged and sowing sickly looking choy sum, mustard and corn lettuce seedlings in the vain hope of winter salads, third year lucky...

Today I picked Mizuna and 'miniature' carrots for a stir fry (the carrots so tiny that it felt cruel to eat them, but then more cruel having wasted so much energy growing them in the first place) and some pot-holed beetroot for a nourishing soup. In the process of washing the beetroot I rescued three slugs and two wood-lice from their pot-hole homes, so I trust that I have avoided any added protein in our borscht.



As usual I was still gardening as it turned dark, so I donned my trusty headlight for the amusement of the neighbourhood and was tailed closely by a fox friend foraging for worms as I moved leaves and earth.




I had, until recently, convinced myself that the neighbourhood remained unaware of my gardening eccentricities. That is until a few weeks ago when a nice friendly-looking man approached me out of the blue in the beautiful Hemingway pub and introduced himself as a neighbour from two doors down who 'regularly watches me in my garden'. Yes; he has seen me at 7am in my pyjamas talking to the foxes; and at midnight in torrential rain collecting slugs by torchlight. He has not though, thankfully, witnessed the disposing of said slugs in the next door (derelict) garden, although in future he may pay more attention...