In April, we were freezing in the cold preparing wet soggy soil for planting. Then in May we ran up and down the hill to fetch water for our seedlings. More than once I wondered - Why on earth we do it?
For me, the main reason is to do with family history. During the war, we had a nice little system going in our road. Dad grew his vegetables. Alf kept his chickens. Sid had tomatoes in his greenhouse. And Arthur, had his apple trees and fruit bushes, - with a pig sty hidden discretely at the bottom of his garden. Naturally we bartered to supplemented our rations.
But family history goes back further than that. Dad learnt his vegetable growing from his Dad who, as a miner was exempt from military service in the First World War, but still had to grow food to make up for the lack of a living wage. The skills he learnt kept the family alive.
They became important again during the post war industrial strife. I grew up hearing at my father’s knee of those times of struggle – when the bosses thought nothing of putting their workmen on starvation wages so they could continue living in luxury. Regular long and justified strikes, the great depression, and wars all meant the skills of growing vegetables were absolutely vital.
And so I was taught them. They lay rusty and half forgotten for many years – for my career took a different turn. But now, retired myself, I choose to struggle with damp and drought, slugs and pigeons – and worry about deer. Yet vegetable growing is something that I feel compelled to do. Something deep within draws me to spade and fork. I feel the weight of family history calling me to my little plot.
But that’s me. How about you?
Why on earth do you do it?
— Colin Smith – Plot 6A
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