Permaculture and Potatoes

Last week I met Annie who is one of the trustees at Barracks Lane, and her husband John. They live right beside the site and were involved in the process of turning the place from a derelict concrete patch in to a community garden. Alan, who helped me move from London to Oxford, took me for a mini tour that was impeded by a brief thunderstorm.

So we stayed in the yurt and talked about different styles of poetry. Performance versus the performative. Don Paterson. Michael Donaghy. Also a bit about literary theory. You know. Yurt talk.

It’s the yurt I mentioned in my last post. Very beautiful it is. An indoor bit in an outside space. I think of the mobius twist which is both inny and outy at the same time, though in a more complex manner than the yurt. And without an amazing stove.

Then today I cycled over to find the Permaculture group had gathered and were planting new things. They were a very friendly bunch from all over Oxford and with all sorts of interests, vocations and reasons for being there. I learned that this was the point: the garden is gated, but when it’s open the idea is that anyone can come and join in. I spoke to a man who’d been wandering past and was pleasantly surprised as the last time he’d been here it was abandoned garages. ‘It’s like coming home,’ he said, ‘as I used to live in communes and this is what it was like.’ He seemed very interested in the compost toilet. He offered to show me around Oxford in the future, but left before I could get his contact details.

Anyway. What did I plant?

Wild Geranium

Artemesia Abrotanum – slightly harder to see as it was in with the forget-me-nots (so called because they grow *everywhere* in great abundance) I’ll let you know how these get along.

I was silently thanking Scarlett for all her digging and weeding lessons. I remembered what she said about getting the entire root of the weed out, about turning over the soil without digging a hole, and looking after your back. Once that was done and everything was nicely composted, we sat at the top and drank tea (as is proper.) I spoke to a woman who is a don at Oxford and who encouraged me to try and make changes within the university. ‘The food is crap, highly subsidised, unhealthy,’ she said. ‘I really think organising something around food would be a good move as there are so many implications. You could start with a garden, start with something small, and let it grow. The thing is, you don’t want to have the chefs and the university administration against you. There’s nothing worse. But you can really show them that changes can be made, things can be done.’

A garden in Oriel? Not a bad idea.

So the vibe was positive; lots of people, some more acquainted than others drinking tea or planting things, talking about health / weeds / dreams. I was especially interested in a conversations one woman started about the dreams she has after she’s been gardening. She said she saw the roots intertwining, and she’d come up with ways to get rid of weeds. I was also interested in what someone else said about potatoes conditioning the soil… I will never cease to be amazed at my mind’s ability to riff off the most banal information.