Don’t Tell Me I Can’t…
For Clare Macnaughton, there’s nothing better than enjoying the fruits (and veg) of her labour
…live the good life
Laying aside my trowel, I sat back to survey my handiwork. A huge crop of potatoes, courgettes and French beans lay in a bucket at my feet and I beamed with pride. It was September 2011 and six months earlier, I’d planted seeds for all my children’s favourite vegetables. Now, along with my pots of spinach, herbs and tomatoes, we had veg to last weeks.
What’s more, the three ex-battery hens I’d rescued a few months earlier were laying regularly, too – so, that night, I made a vegetable frittata with my haul and was delighted when my kids gobbled it up.
I’d always imagined living the good life– like the hit 1970s show – and growing my own produce, but my ex-husband was in the military and we lived in quarters for years, so there wasn’t much space to experiment. Still, in the winter of 2008, there was a particularly bad snowstorm and we had trouble getting to the shops in Dorset, where my ex was stationed at the time. I was stuck using tins from the cupboards and wishing I’d grown something fresh of my own.
Once the snow had cleared, I went to my local garden centre and bought a small pot to start my own herb garden. I’d read somewhere, years ago, that spinach and herbs were hard to get wrong, so I planted them and spent a
‘I LOVED GETTING OUTSIDE’
few minutes each day making sure they were watered and had sunlight. A few weeks later, I was excited to see shoots, and within two months, I had handfuls of spinach, basil and chives.
When I split with my ex and moved into my own house in Wiltshire, in 2011, a garden was the most important thing. I wanted space for a vegetable patch, a greenhouse and chickens. Sadly, our soil wasn’t good enough to be able to plant directly into the ground. But I set about making raised beds out of old pallets. Using Facebook and handme-downs from friends, I managed to get a dozen different pots and beds for about £70, along with a small secondhand greenhouse. Over the next few weekends, my son, then aged seven, and daughter, three, helped me plant tomatoes, herbs, courgettes and potatoes.
A few weeks later, I bought three battery hens from our local rescue centre, for £3 each, and a friend gave me an old henhouse. Within days, we were getting two fresh eggs each morning, and the kids loved having pancakes. One of the hens took a liking to my little girl and would let her push it around in a little buggy! I’d spend about 40 minutes a day tending to my plants. I loved getting outside after working all day as a marketing consultant. And that first summer, we had a huge haul of veg.
It wasn’t all plain sailing, though – my carrots came out like shrivelled fingers and my broccoli was full of caterpillars, so I had to learn some tricks.
Now, each year, I plant everything again – and, at Christmas, I make up hampers to give to our family.
Last year, we moved house, so I’m in the process of setting up once more, and before we went into lockdown, I bought some more hens. All those years ago, I never realised my hobby would stand us in good stead for a pandemic. If you’re thinking about getting green fingered, go for it – what have you got to lose?