The Bee Friendly Garden and the Mystery of the Extra Egg

Firstly, because I've just been to see the chickens with their daily apple ration (it's good for their teeth) I need to share with you that they appear to have lain 5 eggs between them today. Yes, five. Four hens = five eggs. Not quite sure how that works. When I put them to bed last night at 6 p.m, there were no eggs in the nest box. This morning when I took them tea and crumpets at 6.30 there were two eggs, and now, at lunchtime, to my surprise I've collected three more. So in less than 18 hours they've made 5 eggs!! Looking at the colours of the shells I think Mrs Pumphrey may be today's cor blimey champion chicken. Or possibly Mrs Slocombe. Phew! Or maybe there has been a visit from a stray hen. Or a phantom hen. Perhaps Mrs Bennett has returned and popped out one from beyond the grave. A ghost egg. There's a story in there somewhere....

Anyway, bees and flowers. We've got the hens, we've got the allotment and the next logical step is keeping bees. Andy has persuaded me that the neighbours won't like us any more if we get pigs. The pigs, he says, will have to wait until we get our small holding/farm/field. So it's back to bees.

We had an idea (Plan A) to dig up both front and back gardens chez nous and put down some more veg beds. But the more I think about this idea, the more dubious I feel about the practicalities. For one, all the local cats will think toilet heaven has arrived. And I don't trust the local kids not to hop over the wall and indulge in a spot of mindless vandalism (I wouldn't mind if they pinched a few carrots in order to eat them, but what are the chances of that being their motive??). Plus, the front garden is north-west facing so doesn't get a huge amount of warmth and sunlight. So I'm working on Plan Bee.

Plan Bee is to make a bee friendly garden. This is important because we need bees and bees are struggling at the moment and need all the help they can get. After much lobbying by the bee-keeping community, the Government have at last agreed to increase funding into research into bee diseases but until progress can be made into what caused so many swarms to be wiped out last year, we all need to do what we can to encourage bees into our gardens and ensure they continue to thrive to pollinate our fruit and veg.

So, I'm removing all the old shrubs from the front garden that we inherited from the previous owner and I'm going to replace them with plants that will benefit bees. Pretty plants, plants with glorious scents that make you bury your nose in their petals and take a deep sniff and 'WATCH OUT FOR THE BEE!'

I did make a start on the border last autumn, when a morning of light pruning turned into a whole day of Indiana Jones-type undergrowth decimation. But I need to get to grips with the old rose bushes that are way past their best and the roots of shrubs that, judging by the bit of experimental tugging I tried, have their roots encased in concrete. And I'll leave the magnolia bush that Andy bought me as a gift a couple of years ago(and it is a bush, Andy, NOT a tree. It won't get any bigger than it is. I know you're disappointed about this, but if you want a tree, you have to read the label and buy a tree and not a bush!), and the shrub under which is buried Tybalt's sister, Lilith, who died last year. But everything else is going.

My son, Chris, who works in a garden centre and knows a bit about gardening, popped in to visit this morning. I said, 'How would you go about getting rid of all those rose bushes and shrub roots?' I thought, cunningly, 'If I'm lucky, he'll say, 'It's okay Mum, I'll pop round next week on my week off and dig them out for you.' Unfortunately, taking a subtle hint is not one of his strong points so all I got was a detailed lecture on what chemicals to use and when to use them. Ah well, at least Heather will get a laugh when she reads this and marvels at my naiive optimism!

I'm also wondering if we can squeeze a polytunnel in the back garden. I run the idea by Mrs Miggins.
'Oooh yes,' she says. 'It'd be like having the Eden Project on our doorstep.'
'If you fill it with sand and a paddling pool, it'll be like Saint Tropez,' adds Mrs Slocombe and, as I look at her more closely, it does seem as if she has pecked her feathers into the shape of a chicken bikini.
'I was thinking about using it for tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers,' I say. 'You won't be allowed in, I'm afraid, not after what you've done to the lawn.'
'In that case, I think it's a very poor idea,' says Miggins. 'How about a jacuzzi instead?'