I am fully aware of just how mad this is. This is my outhouse, the theory is that placing my peas here will provide support so the trellis doesn’t blow down in the hectic winds we get in these ‘ere parts.
That ground is pretty much solid slate, which shatters when hammered with a spade. Not as bad as boulders that have to be dug out, but fairly back-breaking all the same. The frame was made out of old skirting boards I found in my garden shed.
It’s mad alright, but only needs to be done once and should last for years.
Twelve bags of potting soil, seven bags of compost, bonemeal, lime, fertiliser, three trips to the co-op, a lot of strange looks from the locals and the peas are in. I’m giving them company with corn, cauliflower, eggplant, parsley and basil and a long cool drink of rain water.
The ants think I’m mad too, giving them a free meal of icing sugar, but there’s borax in there, which apparently they take back to the nest and boom. Plop. Ded. Bwahahaha.
Maybe not quite so mad after all. If I can induce my friend to part with his recipe for Thai fish with snap peas and baby corn, I’ll be getting the last laugh.