Can drumming get better than this?

It's been a full on few weeks in Tigland and so this weekend's drumming extravaganza crept up on me somewhat - but it's impact certainly won't be fading away like a wall flower any time soon! But because pictures (and video) say it so much better than words, to give you a flavour...




This weekend, thanks to some outstanding organisation on the part of our gigs team and one band member in particular, Batala Lancaster took to the hills and played a gig at Ingleton Falls in North Yorkshire.  For starters I hadn't clocked Ingleton was in North Yorkshire so passing the sign welcoming me to the county of my birth was pretty fun but nothing beat the gig itself.

We played an initial set at the car park (and the sun shone! ALL DAY! It was absolutely stunning) then loaded up our backpacks with our drums (cable ties and a bit of genius) to walk up to the target falls for our gig - Thornton Force. I'd never been to Ingleton before and the walk up there (about 1.5 miles) was absolutely beautiful - walking through sun dappled trees in gorgeous sunshine, with a babbling river alongside to keep us company. There are a number of different falls on the trail but having seen the location of sthe others, Thornton Force was definitely the best (and possibly the only!) choice for getting our feet wet.

Wandering up with fellow band members, chatting about this, that and the other and generally being stunned by the beauty of the surrounds and the amazing fortuity of the weather was a delight. And although a little awkward at times, having a drum on my back was pretty fun too.

But the gig itself...wow! Being a waterfall pool there were rocks and pebbles to navigate, and as you'll see from the video some band members snagged themselves a dry spot - but I have to say, being in the water suited me just fine. Even on the occasions I almost lost my balance (and the one occasion that I actually did and fell back into the water!) Although at the beginning of the gig I wasn't sure how our usual movements would work (stepping side to side, sometimes turning around, jumps and the like) once we'd settled in the movements just fitted in - although it was more swaying than stepping. The mis-balancing incidents were also somewhat courtesy of rather energetic dancing on my part - and the over balancing was watching a fellow band member chase after her beater and end up submerging herself (in the 4 inches of water...). It did, however, prove our organiser's statement at practice the previous week: "Don't worry if you fall in - your drum floats so just grab on to that!"

With the gig itself done a bunch of us ended up getting properly wet and swimming in the deeper part of the pool - VERY cold but totally worth it! Given how warm I'd got on the walk up I had every intention of cooling off properly before embarking on the descent - and splashing around in water is always good fun. As some people started to head back to the car park the excitement took a different turn as a young boy who'd been playing in the water had slipped and cracked his head on a rock. A combination of Team Batala (one of whom's a nurse, another had a good strong voice to cut through the hubbub asking if anyone had phone signal to call an ambulance, general concern and a certain Tigger-shaped entity who was one of two people who dashed up the side of the valley to get phone signal and call through to the emergency services) helped get him the attention he needed although it certainly changed the feel of the afternoon somewhat. With an ambulance called and first aid applied, I was then "casually invited" to go and put my trousers back on - when the call went out in need of signal to phone for an ambulance I'd just got out of the water so had gone up the hillside barefoot and sans trousers. All part of the nature of the beast, eh?

With the young lad being escorted to the ambulance (by this point he was walking along holding hands with his best friend so although scary at the time, as far as I know he's all set for a full recovery - and a very exciting story to tell his friends) I packed up my drum and ended up completing the trails (around 4 miles in total) with another band member and some others who'd come to enjoy the day. I must confess that by the time we got back to the car park I was looking forward to letting the car take the weight of my drum but having a chance to amble back through yet more beautiful countryside was fabulous.

The trails also had a number of "money trees" along the route, old trunks that people had pushed / hammered coins into which, at a distance, looked no different from any other log but up close were an amazing impromptu social art. There were even some little toadstool ones!

All in all it was a stunning day - I still haven't managed to find the words to capture just how awesome it was, but they'll come in time. Certainly a once-in-a-lifetime experience (I may play in a waterfall again - who knows! - but with such stunning weather?! The chances aren't that high!) and one that I'll remember for ever. Brilliant.

Oh, and this all came a day after we (Batala) played at the opening to the rugby league semi-final in Wigan! Batala - Hey!

Building a home (literally)

This has been a glorious weekend which involved a chunk of time doing just what I fancied. Now, there's still a long list of things "to do" which didn't all get blasted through, but I did do something I hadn't been expecting - which was veritably to devour Alternative Housebuilding by Mike McClintock. A book with a story, if ever there was one...

A dear old friend (who's also a very talented artist) is the reason I have my paws on this book. He'd been doing a lot of research and reading into alternative building techniques but having done so was clearing out before a move to a new abode - and had a STACK of books about self building and sustainable building alternatives which were looking for a new home. I pretty much cleared him out of said books (it being an area of interest to me as well) on the understanding that after I'd read and digested, I'd find a suitable new home for them where lots of people could benefit from them. I had an idea of where they may next end up, but after my August WWOOFing and a conversation with the community I was staying in, that seemed like the best place for them. And, given I'm hopefully due to be dropping in on that particular community again in October, I thought I'd best get cracking on reading these books before they move into their new new home! This particular book had started (or at least, spent part of it's life) in Phoenix Public Library - which is also a rather endearing synergy with other parts of my life at the moment.

The first book I'd taken a look at was more of a "when thinking about building your own home, these are all the things you should think about" book but Mr McClintock's was exactly what this weekend needed - great photos of different types of houses, a descriptive intro on each style of building, a discussion of some of the key considerations and then some really quite detailed "and then, to get things underway..." sections (which I skimmed at best). Sustainable / alternative building techniques is something which I've been dancing around for some time - it's one of those topics which I'm interested in, but seemingly not enough to do much about. So the fortuitous engagement with these books has been rather marvellous.

The biggest thing I've learnt from the book is that, actually, the idea of designing and building my own home isn't something which is top of my priority list. Don't get me wrong, the houses which were featured looked wonderful, and the idea of a house much "closer to nature" (built of wood, or even earth walls) sounds brilliant - as long as it's someone else's plan. I'd be more than happy to get stuck in with someone else's project, but starting off on my own with one doesn't really appeal. Which was a rather surprising - but very useful! - discovery to make.

It also got me thinking about cabling and piping and all the bits of the houses I've inhabited to date which I take for granted. Which I get experts in to deal with. And which are so "normal" they're often not even really seen for the brilliant inventions that they are. Reinforcing again - I appreciate these things, but have no particular desire to become the expert myself (I've toyed with the idea of doing an electrics or plumbing course - but have always ended up discovering I'd much rather be committing my time to something else).

And of course, I also got a very informative introduction to several Alternative housebuilding approaches:

Log Houses: think log cabin. Think house made of wood. Endearing to me, but somehow didn't really hook me.

Timber-frame houses: build a frame, fill in the gaps - this one I really didn't have a lot of interest in somehow

Pole Houses: stick some poles in the ground - build your house on them. Loved this one - something about not needing to chuck down a bunch of concrete foundations for the whole footprint of the house. And that when the house was no longer being a house the footprint left on the land was so much reduced.

Cordwood masonry: why use brings when you can use logs? This one, again, sounded like a goer for me - with lots of scope for creativity with the size, shape and dimensions of the logs used. I must confess that by this point my attention span was waning, but the idea definitely sank in.

Stone masonry: too much rock. Too much heavy rock. Not inspired. At least not for me personally.

Earth masonry: ooh, now we might be talking. Although the "moulds" to make the earth masonry in looked pretty serious!

Earth-sheltered houses: possibly very cool. Possibly not. I think I'd miss the light of being above ground. But who knows.

One of the really interesting aspects of the book was that in the descriptive sections of each the author really emphasised the importance of feeling excited by the technique settled upon (either for self build or if engaging contractors to do the actual building). I think the book has furnished me with a greater awareness of construction options and will open my eyes as I see different buildings. Definitely worth a read if you're thinking of self-build at all.

"Holiday" doesn't even come close

Last week I took a week off. From work. From my day to day. From my usual "normality". And it was utterly marvellous. What's been most fascinating about it has been quite how much has emerged from what was "just" 10 days away.

The main focus of the holiday was to go "WWOOFing" at a community in Shropshire. As chance would have it they were having their annual mini-festival the weekend I was due to be arriving so I ended up partaking in that. In many ways it was pretty tough turning up not knowing anyone, while also knowing in amongst the people in the field were folk who actually lived there full time. However, in a rather "worlds colliding" way I'd contacted a local couchsurfer when I was looking at different options for accommodation on Saturday night  - and she had already been invited to the party, so she and her boyfriend were kind enough to meet me on arrival and introduce me to a bunch of people. Not only that, turns out she'd just processed my booking for a permaculture course in October. Genius.

But the party  / festival was very much an aside. The real gold was in the gardening I got to do. Monday to Friday I spent most of the days out in the gardens, weeding, picking soft fruits (I barely even made a dent - there was SO MUCH!), doing oddments of pruning to clear pathways that had become very overgrown by abundant vegetative growth and a little bit of clearing and shifting of stuff. I got stung by nettles, scratched by brambles, thistled by thistles and bitten by beasties (including a particularly avid bitey ant) and it was utterly wonderful. I even got my first blood blister while being overly zealous with a chunk of wood I was splitting with the magical log splitter (which attaches to a tractor for power) - which is providing to be a rather entertaining addition to my hands, mainly because I keep thinking I've got one nail with nail varnish on. 

And did I mention a lot of this I got to do in a genuine walled garden? I was (and still am) so in love with that particular part of the grounds, more than anywhere else. There's something magical about walled gardens.

In and of itself the gardening was brilliant, but there being a community of 12 adults + 6 children (plus visitors minus members who were away) around and about both in the gardens and in the house, as well as to share dinner with (which was always brilliant and sharing a meal with up to 20 others is ace) and often other meals just added so much. It's all well and good doing stuff, but it's the people who really make it or break it.

Until now I'd been very hesitant of community living and yet I was suitably impressed - and enamoured - of how functional this particular community was. Of course, it any group there will be highs and lows but my nightmare scenario of it all being lows just didn't appear. So that was quite an eye opener too.

Overall, the whole week felt like I'd dropped into a parallel universe. And a universe I REALLY enjoyed being in. I completely lost myself in the gardening, slowing down, calming my mind (without trying to, just as a product of being focused on something so, literally, earthy) and just enjoying it. But the most fascinating thing about this parallel universe is that, quite simply, it exists. Speaking to people while I was there (visitors and members) reminded me of all the different ways of living there are. Reminding me that although I live in a certain way, it certainly isn't the only way for humanity, and it's also now the only way for me.

Needless to say there's plenty of food for thought in that thar sentence alone.

There's also a sense of "Oh, and another thing..." about this mere 10 days I spent away from "normal life". And yet those "other things" feel like they're waiting for another blog post at another time. So wait they shall - as I wander home across the sands of the wonderous, fabulous Morecambe bay.*

*In case anyone's jumped to the wrong conclusion, I'm talking about the bit of "enclosed" sand which is exposed between the Stone Jetty and the Battery. I haven't taken to cross-bay walks on my own, or, indeed, in company!

Revisiting an old haunt - Burton Manor

Driving back after being part of a Massage stand at a village show in North Wales yesterday, I unexpectedly found myself on a rather familiar stretch of motorway. Although normally I was coming from the other direction and on every previous occasion had been driven (rather than driving myself), the signs towards Hoylake were unmissable. In a matter of seconds my intention to visit Dunham Massey (which had been a rather non-committal intention) was ditched in favour of returning to an old haunt - Burton Manor. I hadn't been since December 2010 but had been thinking of it recently and after a non-starter trip in May, today, unexpectedly, was the day for my return.

I was introduced to Burton Manor by the NO HANDS Mastery Programme in 2007. For 4 years I came here four, sometimes five, times a year, seeing the seasons and gardens change - and seeing the grounds at what felt like every time of the day and night! The days were long (I remember one morning getting up at 6am to walk the length of one of the lawns incredibly slowly, before our 7am Massage; and the late nights were innumerable!) and filled with learning on every level. But the privilege of coming to such a beautiful place and having the gardens to walk in was amazing.

In April 2011 the Manor closed (it had been an adult education residential centre since 1948) and since then the buildings have remained closed while negotiations to sell it (it's currently owned by Liverpool City Council but there have been ongoing negotiations with the University of Chester over the purchase). In the mean time, having secured significant funding and with a team of dedicated volunteers  the gardens have been cared for with several features (notably the walled garden and glass house, and the restored ice house) now open to the public which, when I was last here, were in a very poor state of repair and inaccessible to visitors like me.

The telltale sign that the building is out of action comes in the form of the ivy over the grand face that overlooks the formal gardens. Previously a feature, it's now encroaching on the windows and doorways, in some cases obscuring the glass altogether. There's a sense of the ivy beginning to encase the building and although not overgrown in the way derelict buildings are (and with the juxtaposition of the cared for gardens) the building does feel "quiet". Interestingly, I could quite imagine a group coming out of a door, or sitting down to a meal in the dining room. All the furniture seems still to be in place, laid out almost as if a course is in progress. And yet - no course. No meals. No activity in the house.

Knowing the building has been closed for these past few years makes the change in the gardens (which are generally in a better condition now than they were when I was here before - the main exception being the central borders in the boxes of hedges to either side of the pond which have gone to seed) particularly poignant.

Burton Manor will always hold a special place in my heart and is filled with memories of people, laughter and tears, revelations and achievements. Coming at the end of such an amazing week away somehow feels like exactly the right time for this visit - when or whether I'll be back again remains to be seen but the ghosts it holds for me are certainly happy ones which I'd be happy to revisit again should the opportunity arise.

Hooking into Resources

The big theme at the moment is the power of the mind. Of being in charge from within - rather than looking for change from without. Deciding how I want to respond and being OK with that. There seem to be so many opportunities just opening up with such ease at the moment when they've previously seemed impossible or incredibly hard work. It really does seem to be all downing to timing - and that's timing on my own internal clock, rather than anyone elses.

Another theme is gratitude for the brilliance that I'm party to so much of the time. This week I went to my first belly dancing class in YEARS (I've only ever been to one before and that was about 10 years ago - but I enjoyed it then and have been looking for the chance to hook into a regular class since then) and loved it - plus had a great chat to the teacher. This dance studio is barely 60 seconds walk from where I get to work these days. Ace. I went along to drumming practice on Monday and got to play brilliant rhythms with brilliant people. Indulged in some cinema one evening and got lost in a huge pile of cheesey Americanisms - escapism all the way. And all following having hosted my parents for a couple of days giving them a bit of a mini-break and me the chance to catch up with them without having to spend hours travelling to visit them!

On the gratitude theme, it's difficult, if not impossible, to describe exactly how much I love my water butt right now. It's BRILLIANT. I've lived (some of the time at least) in this house for almost 5 years (wow!) and now, courtesy of my water butt, I'm harvesting rain water which I'm using to water my plants - and even flush my toilet with. My plants are enjoying it as the water isn't treated, and to me it makes them even more "low impact". Yes, I'm having to carry said toilet flushing water up 3 flights of stairs, but still - every "flush" which is courtesy of the water butt (there's something rather poetic about toilets and water butts) saves 10 - 15 L of water needing to be cleaned and piped to my house, just to be flushed away again. Plus it's making my house into even more of a living gym...

Admittedly, finally getting the drain pipe diverter installed has been the cherry on the cake with said water butt - knowing that it'll fill right up without me having to go down and play "empty to the bucket into the water butt because you haven't sorted the diverter yet" every time it's rained is awesome. In fact, it's almost magic. And has cemented in me the idea that cunning engineering of readily available resources is totally where it's at.

I've also been enjoying the fruits of (other people's) allotments this week - primarily potatoes and courgettes from two different friends. (And my own courgette plants seem, finally, to be bringing forth their own courgettes! Whoop!) Cooking meals with such soil-to-plate food is so inspiring - I'm still working on maximising yields from my internal space (there are some really interesting vertical growing systems I've seen but the engineering of those is somewhat beyond my current engineering desires! For now, at least) but even then I've got herbs growing, plenty of spinach, some tomato plants which are going bananas (although may not yield fruit as I'm not sure anything will have pollinated them) and some asparagus plants merrily growing from seed in preparation for about 4 years time for harvesting. Long termism, see?

And as I prepare for a week away, I'm trialling using the hoards of cardboard I have in my basement as a moisture retainer for my indoor plants - using it to protect the soil from direct sunlight (and hopefully reducing evaporation direct from the soil) and also to hold water which can keep the plants going rather than over-doing it on the watering.

So often it's a case simply of recognising the resources to realise they really are all around. And I'm currently loving going through the "recognition" phase :)

The Sea, Perspective, and Luddite-like leanings

I am incredibly fortunate: I live by the sea. I walk along the seafront twice a day during the week. Sometimes more often on the weekends that I'm here. And I think I have one of the most beautiful water landscapes around - an ever changing sea and sky, with the South Lakeland hills as the backdrop. Stunning.

And not only do I get to revel in the beauty of this scene, I also find it can transport me to an incredibly "unbusy" headspace. Meditative is the word - when I'm walking the shoreline, my steps slowed by the water lapping around my ankles, my mind somehow empties of worries and cares and leaves me simply marvelling at the awesome (in the dictionary sense of the word) beauty of the planet. Recently low-tide has coincided with my walk to and from work - which is wonderful, but I've noticed a feeling of missing the sea. Missing the big mass of water being up close. Feeling like the channel is a long way away. But it'll come round again and I'll have the water crashing against the wall as I walk along - I just never realised, or connected with the fact, that I missed it before. Must be turning into a proper seaside dweller...

This connection with the sea helps put some of my more niggling worries into perspective. The echoes of them remain, but they're not shouting quite so much now. A new look on the question of "am I doing the right thing?" (right now, in general, with my life...) is providing a rather fresh perspective and although I'm still not sure of the answer to that question, I'm feeling more comfortable getting on with what I'm doing - if only for now. Knowing that now's the only time I can really deal with.

But! The Luddite-like leanings of the title are not to be forgotten, nor ignored. Luddite is possibly too strong, but I have a definitely tug in two different directions - one is an absolute amazement at the advances of science, engineering, analysis, thought and creativity. As a population this accumulation of knowledge is phenomenal - and I find somewhat daunting. I've just been reading the most recent issue of National Geographic which had articles both on high end science (notably an article on the sequencing of a not-human, not-Neanderthal but-definitely-something-related genome from a fragment of bone, thousands of years old) and a traditional hay growing lifestyle which has persisted for millenia in Romania. One all about advances and pushing the boundaries of knowledge. The other using tried and tested methodologies to farm in a sustainable way - and the only way the area can support. Of course, it's not as clear cut as that, but the contrast is still stark.

My own life started as fairly academically focused, reading Natural Sciences at university. Then it was into a job in a national level government department and then on to (via a number of other diversionary routes) a position with a management and IT consultancy firm. All along I felt like I wasn't the one with the expert knowledge, but a midwife of sorts (generally of a very junior level) and for some time now I have been working for a company that is focused on one of the oldest healing therapies (if not the oldest healing therapy) on the planet - Touch. The simplicity of Touch is mind blowing (particularly given I'm not simply talking about subjective mind blowing, but scientifically researched mind blowing) and yet for many people it's fallen completely off the radar as an option, other than for "pampering". I'm absolutely clear that the "stood the test of time" things aren't better or worse than the "cutting edge of technology and thought" things - they're simply different. But seeing the differences can be somewhat overwhelming - we're all humans living in the same "age" and yet using our minds in such different ways.

I find the juxtaposition incredibly inspiring, but also at times paralysing. Just one of those things about being human, methinks.

The Jungle at Chez Tigs - a photographic summary

This is a fairly long and rambling blog about the ins and outs of my growings at home - in many ways I've used it as my own personal growing diary so if gardening's not your thing, you may want to skim / skip this one!

Sunday lunchtime
Today was a day without plans but with lots of potential - and after breakfast on the beach I fancied "getting on and doing" - and what took my fancy first of all was playing with my various plants at home. And having played with them, I fancied doing a bit of a summary!

The biggest challenge is knowing where to start. With the plants that have been here the longest? From the top of the house down? From the bottom of the house up? Inside to out? Outside to in? I have a true delight with my house in that I experience it in different ways - coming in through different doors, different "journeys" through the house on different days and at different times, and even things like temporarily forgetting part of the jungle (in this case, the outside plants at the front - how I could forget those when I see them every time I come in and out of the house I have no idea!). And I'm still at a loss as to where to start...so I'll just start and see where it takes me.

Spider Plants

One of two tubs that "came
with the house" up on the
second floor landing

So, spider plants are a bit marmite-esque in people's response to them - folk seem either to love 'em or hate 'em. But the truth of the matter for me was that they were the only thing that survived the neglect any plants in my home were subjected to when I wasn't living here full time.

Most rooms have at least one
spider plant if nothing else!

They also seemed to work in some kind of symbiosis with one of the house plants that was here when I moved in (the stick in the photo on the left) which resurrected itself quite successful...although has since given up the ghost again. But given their seeming ability to grow through any amount of neglect (and mainly desertification) makes them somewhat of a staple in my house.

I love these shelves but have
been on such a clear out that
I don't yet have gazillions of
books to fill them - so spider
plants it is

In addition, while I'm still cultivating other more "useful" (edible etc.) plants, they're still doing their photosynthesising and bringing a bit of (plant) life to rooms which otherwise would be empty of such growing.

A useful spider-plant
nook in the hallway

I occasionally take to composting the odd one (another fine use for spider plants - although I'm not sure of the quality of compost they produce...) but the general plan at the moment is to cultivate some more large-ish plants which I may then be able to use as ornamental plants at work - while they're small, spider plants just look a little pathetic!

I must confess I also do rather like the way they cascade from high shelves and the like so for now, the spider plants will be staying. In if you're a spider plant hater, there will be a few more creeping into later photos but they'll be hiding amongst other plants - so do persevere!

Currently cropping...with the spider plants out of the way, on to my current grand success! I got myself some troughs which I had always planned on using as salad window boxes and which are coming on a treat - and also my main source of leafy greens at the moment. That all three of the said troughs are up on the second floor simply adds to their healthiness - the odd bit of running up and down the stairs to furnish myself with some spinach or lettuce doesn't go amiss!

My plant identification skills are pretty shocking at the moment (I'm working on it...slowly!) but when I originally planted the troughs they had a combination of lettuce, spinach, perpetual spinach and rocket in them. At least - I think they did!

The lettuce and spinach have been growing well for a while now and I'm beginning to really see the difference between the perpetual spinach and the "normal" spinach as well. However, the rocket was nowhere in sight.

There's one "weed" (for weed read "plant I haven't yet identified and therefore don't know what to use it for so for the time being am eliminating it to focus on the things I do know how to use") which I think the troughs picked up seeds for when they were outside (in anticipation of the drip trays I'd ordered for them) and which have been particularly fertile - and are now merrily composting.

Thinning out those has definitely helped the target-edible-leaves but today I attacked one of the troughs with a plastic fork (I don't have a small thinning out tool - but said fork worked rather well) and potted on some of the plants that were crowding out the others. I'll be intrigued to see how this trough does compared to the others but in addition to having a whole bunch of plants which hopefully do better with more space, I also found my first rocket plant! Hurrah!

Spinach and lettuce line the ledge in
front of the largest window, with 4 little
tomato plants just starting out to the
left (oh, and a spider plant, of course)

I've also hit my weeks-long target of having exhausted my pot supply - this will not in any way prevent me from cracking on with new projects (my favourite tricks of turning plastic water bottles into pots and using empty tetrapaks as drip trays will soon net me more containers I'm sure) but has been a bit a milestone. And milestones deserve celebration - so huzzah huzzah :)

A related milestone, of filling every window ledge of space, is still in progress and it looks like my plan of having mini shelves going up the side of windows may be coming to fruition sooner than I'd anticipated which may put that milestone somewhat further off again - but increases the jungle-potential rather dramatically which is very exciting.

My kitchen window ledge - not the
sunniest spot in the house but enough
light to keep things ticking over - and
the site of many a carrot seed sprouting!
The low tray is home to some thyme
seeds, then there's a lettuce plant, a
spinach and a pot I planted with "some
seeds" (I knew what they were at the time.
Not any more) and which keeps showing
signs of some sprouting but never
quite coming to fruition...

One thing Grow the House Down is really bringing home for me is the desireability for starting early. In my case, early may mean several years as the plan is to get a bunch of perennials going so when I find bits of open-air space I could use I've got established plants I could put straight in. But it also means my expectations for harvesting this year are very modest given many of the plants had their growing seasons rather limited by when I actually planted them (the tomatoes being a case in point).

The second herb pot getting
some growing in (the other
tub has purple sprouting
broccoli and carrot seedlings)

Another "currently cropping" are my herb pots. I have two (one which is in my kitchen ready for use and another which lives in a sunnier spot to do some more vigorous growing - and then they get swapped over) and although I'm in an ongoing battle with some whitefly, regular spraying with soapy water seems to be helping a lot. Parsley and chives are the main staples in the pot, with some spinach and coriander doing the best they can. Snip snip and the garnish is done = genius.

A whole variety - tomatoes, mint, spinach
aloe vera, jasmine, geranium and coriander

Other ground-floor growings While we're down in the kitchen seems like a good time to look at the living room and back room window ledges. I love having lots of plants in my living room and the geranium plant feels like one of my "oldest friends" when it comes to plants (I somehow don't have the same affection for the spider plants). My Mum got it for me when I was in Halifax and it was one of the few plants that really thrived over there - and being in a hanging basket makes it even better. The way it cascades over the side is wonderful. I'm still not convinced about the vigorous growing potential of the windows on the front of the house (which is north-east facing) but plants are able to survive which is a step in the right direction and the jasmine seems to be enjoying itself. I'm looking forward to putting some supports (possibly just some string) in to train it upwards. Space for lots more on this window ledge, too...

From left: purple sprouting broccoli,
first year asparagus plants and a
couple of cucumber plants

 The room at the back on the ground floor (which was originally a shop and still has the - rather dilapidated and currently boarded up - shop front) has until recently been the workshop for a local part-time guitar maker. Life's changed for him so he's moved out but I've yet to decide what to do with the room. But in the mean time, there are window ledges to be used!

My solo aubergine seedling, plus more
asparagus and purple sprouting broccoli

I'm cultivating a whole series of asparagus plants - I purchased some year old roots which in theory should have rehydrated and been growing away, but every single one I planted failed. Which was a shame - but is making the delicate fronds of my grown-from-seed asparagus even more exciting.

Next up: my back yard. For a long time this was the focus of my growing efforts because it had the highest chance of getting at least *some* watering (in the form of rain) in my absence. The bushiest greenery you'll see at the far end of the frame is a miniature tree I bought years ago which has continued to grow and be small. Along the back wall you can just make out three treelings - on the far left, a greengage that was a gift, then two apples. I think these are likely to end up at my office building next year, but for now they're merrily growing leaves and having a whale of a time.

Many of the plants that were also in the frame (an old divan base which just gave me a structure to start with) have now moved to the front yard or further afield, but there's still one lone gooseberry bush awaiting a new home, again, probably next year now. However, the other two highlights of the yard are my water butt (which I love - but note the not-yet-finished nature of its connection to the drainpipe top right- it's not actually lined up directly beneath the pipe due to the location of the drain in the ground and my plan for finishing off the piping) and two rather innocuous looking white tubs in the left foreground. Growing plants in containers is all well and good but fertiliser is going to be important - and this weekend I harvested myself some comfrey and nettles from the wonderful Middlewood Trust  and have started the festering process (given the smell it creates it can only be described as festering) of the mix with a healthy dose of water which, fingers crossed, will result in some great vegan low impact liquid fertiliser. That was one of this mornings jobs so I'm still feeling particularly pleased for having got it done (it's been on the list for quite some time!).

The front yard has, sadly, been subject to some vandalism so although the bathtub should be thriving and full of strong plants, it's actually just hanging on with much smaller plants than I'd hoped for. It's been a real disappointment that someone (or a group of someones) has decided to make my plants the target of their repeated vandalism (it's one of the reason I've got the apple trees in my back yard:  one of them had been pulled out of the soil and dumped exposing the roots to the air and leaving them to dry out. I was fairly convinced that would have well and truly killed it, but I try popping it back into some soil in a rather more protected spot and it's come back to life rather well) but I've decided just to get on with it and hope they cease. It's brought home the immense vulnerability of plants, even fairly established ones, but will not put a stop to the growing!

The part of the front yard which is down a set of steps has, to date, not been prone to the vandalism attacks the bathtub has experienced and has a range of plants growing, including broadbeans, some more chives, some of the ubiquitous purple sprouting broccoli, carrots, courgette, gooseberry and blackcurrant (which has some little green fruits on - hurrah!).

I've recently also added some plants in a very sheltered, but surprisingly sunny (in these summer mornings, at least) alcove between the steps and one of the windows - seen here along with my feet (a rather fun hark back to my photographs from Bolivia where my feet became a bit of an intentional theme...)

Which brings us to our penultimate location - my bathroom window ledge. The little cactus (one of two cacti I have - the second being a housewarming present from a friend which is down on my kitchen window ledge) and the "money tree" are two plants I wasn't quite sure where they should live - so they keep the toilet roll happy. The jasmine was a rather impulsive purchase (along with the other two I got) but when in flower brings a lovely distinctive smell to the room. Which is all rather nice.

And finally - the second floor landing. In many ways I thought I'd start the tour here, this being the first set of plants I generally see of a morning - and the last I see before going to bed (I do have a spider plant in my bedroom, but it somehow rarely catches my attention).

I love this view as I'm coming down from my room - a light, airy space with plenty of plants, the penguin mobile my sister got me for Christmas and my wonderful Whatnot. And no, it's not that I can't remember the name for the piece of furniture - it's actually called a Whatnot. Brilliant. This is one of the first pieces of furniture I ever bought - I think Whatnots are brilliant and when I saw one for sale very cheaply back in my teens I bought it. For a long time it lived in my bedroom at my parents' house, then on delivery to Morecambe it became my "stuff next to the shoe rack and coats" shelf but somehow didn't quite suit there. It then got relegated to the back room while I worked out where it should live - until it found its new home.

As odd as it may sound, I feel like this is the spot my Whatnot was bought for - over a decade after its initial purchase. I've never seen another Whatnot like it, it folds flat and just has a lovely sense of space to it - and fits perfectly in the corner of my landing. As you'll see there's still plenty of space to fill with more plants - although it doesn't get much direct sunlight (plenty of brightness, just not sunshine per se). I love it.

The two plant-jobs I started with today (which rather multiplied once I got started) where starting off the liquid fertiliser and potting on 11 little asparagus plants - who are now merrily living on the Whatnot, along with a cyclamen from my Mum, some more spider plants and another aloe plant (which has survived well but hasn't particularly grown - another result, I suspect, of my rather absent-minded care regime).

And that is the current state of play of the Jungle. It's very much a juvenile jungle (in fact, jungle's probably not the word for it at all, but that's the "end-game" picture I have in my mind) but it's terribly exciting and makes me happy.

If you have any tips on any of the plants I've mentioned - or, indeed, any suggestions for other edible plants that do particularly well indoors - please do let me know!