In my Galway garden there are more rocks and stones than soil.
Some people say that during the Celtic Tiger period, soil was taken away from sites and sold, then sold again – back to whoever bought the same house and site a year later!
Could this be true? I asked myself… stupidly.
Of course it could be true.
I’m inclined to believe anything about events during Ireland’s Celtic Tiger period.
I’m sure when it came to making money – no stone was left unturned, (sorry couldn’t help myself – after all I’m surrounded by them.)
MAN v ROCK
Here’s one of my favourites. What is it? A big rock? A boulder?
I’ll call it big-rock for now.
I was looking forward to growing vegetables and I asked Frank Barrett to put in some raised beds for me.
Frank did a fantastic job building my writing hut and so he was well used to coping with the rocks in my garden but this one was different.
This rock was right in the place where we planned to place a raised bed.
We may have a big garden but there’s not many places suitable so this one had to come out.
I’m not sure whether this rock clung to the earth or whether the earth clung to the rock but either way poor Frank had terrible time digging this one out.
When I saw the size of it I suggested leaving it in.
I thought I’d kind of work around it somehow. It didn’t seem worth having a heart attack over.
But I think it got a bit personal and Frank wasn’t going to let a big lump of rock get one over on him.
So he huffed and he puffed and he heaved and he pulled and he pushed and he tugged and he levered and he jemmied and he crowbarred…
Until eventually he persuaded the earth to let go, and out came ‘big-rock.’
I was so relieved. I was beginning to feel like I was watching a long, slow and very, very painful birth.
Frank was also relieved and triumphant as he rolled the baby, sorry big-rock, down the slope to rest in its new home.
It is now part of one of my mini-stone walls.
Did I tell you I’m getting obsessed stone walls?
Well, I am slightly but there are worse things to be obsessed with.
There are so many stone walls around Galway that you can’t help but fall under their spell.
Don’t our Irish stones possess a kind of grey and dusty beauty?
And didn’t our very own Patrick Kavanagh write a poem about them?
Stoney Grey Soil. A poem that I am only beginning to fully understand now.
Anyway, after the birth of big-rock, raised bed number four was gently laid to rest in it’s place.
It is now home to some spinach, lettuce and of course the ubiquitous slug family.
Regular readers of this blog will know about my various experiments in trying to stop the slugs eating my crops.
But did I tell you the beer traps failed? No?
Okay, listen up – don’t waste your beer – the beer trap failed!!!!!!
MY LOVELY ROCK
And as for big-rock, it’s not just a rock, not an ordinary rock.
Big-rock’s size, shape and position within the wall has made big-rock a lovely little place to sit, think and ponder the wonder of rocks and stones, the nature of beauty, and the joy of gardens, and gardening…
In case you think that the war on weeds has got to me, or that I am exaggerating the splendor of this rock, here it is standing alone and proud.
After a quick hose down here it is again in its rightful place in my little stone wall.
It makes a lovely little seat as well.
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- TRYING TO LEVER IT OUT
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- THE REVEAL
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- FITTED IN THE WALL PERFECTLY
Isn’t it a lovely rock?
Bye for now,
Grace.
MORE FROM MY GALWAY GARDEN
If you like your eggs fresh go see hens ducks and all things fowl.
For flower power visit my post on growing flowers
For butterfly lovers visit ‘the butterfly garden.’
If like me, you are interested in permaculture read this.
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