Degojification Stage 1
Pruned goji bushes

I am not one for New Year’s Resolutions. I know from experience that whatever gardening fervour I start the year with will inevitably disappear by midsummer, as the detritus life piles up smothers it. That might sound rather depressing, and as the garden gets out of control (there’s a tipping point, after which you’re continually chasing your tail rather than making any progress) I do get a bit disheartened, but this year I am actively trying to plan for it and produce a garden that takes care of itself on the days when I cannot.

Only time will tell how well I succeed this year, and it’s definitely a work in progress. There is another constraint – I am gardening with an all but non-existent budget this year, which would be a problem if I didn’t have far too many plants and seeds already. Theoretically the only thing I will need to buy is potting compost, but again we will see.

At the end of the last year, when the builders were removing the garage roof to build a shiny new kitchen, we saved the roof joists. There are 8 of them, about 6 feet long, although one of them has some chunks cut out of it. The original plan was to use them to build a damp bed, in the only part of the garden that can be said to get any shade, but I have appointed a new Under Gardener (Pete) this year and in discussion with him that idea has changed. The new bed will be constructed up by the Grow Dome, and will – at least for this year – be the Spud Bed.

It’s part of a desire to eat more of what we grow in the garden. The garden grows plenty of things we could, and perhaps should eat, but when the going gets tough we stick to things we know, so it’s mainly those that we shall grow this year.

Three months ago I started the process of removing the goji bushes from in front of the grow dome, by hacking them back to short stems. This morning I have dug them out, a process that involved a lot of name calling and some mud slinging and more than a little violence. The Under Gardener broke a fork. I broke through the anchoring roots that had grown to be as thick as a finger, and the gojis came free. If they survive this trauma then they will wake up from their winter nap in a new home – I’m giving them to Maddy and Tim in Hampshire. In time they might even be on the telly, a much brighter life for a perennial than being in my way all the time. In the event that they don’t make it then they survive in spirit, as I will also pass on a baby goji in a pot that I created by layering one of the mature plants.

The new bed will also require the relocation of the jostaberry. Considering we haven’t eaten a single fruit from it in the years that it has been here (could, should, don’t), it too is scheduled for removal to Hampshire if it’s tough enough to survive the process. I’m sure Tim and Maddy would never let it be overgrown with weeds, or chomped by sawfly, as I have done in recent years.

So… a garden that costs less, produces more useful food and thrives during periods of (human) stress. That’s not a resolution, that’s the plan.