Root maneouvers

You may remember my concern about that rabidity of mint in a previous post. This brief epilogue concentrates on the method behind the minty madness. Roots.

It's no surprise that for a plant to dominate its roots have to be both strong and clever. Without nutrients they will die, and it follows that they really should do anything to make sure they survive, that they get to the nutrients first lest someone else make more out of it than they do.

Today, that aforementioned patch of garden mint finally destroyed the other herbs and was in the process of destroying itself. Time to dig up and start again.

Rotting from the bottom to the top

As I reflected on just what mint had managed to achieve in this crowded container, my thoughts turned yet again to just how News of the World has managed to poison our society whilst remaining in many eyes something to be proud of (witness the final print day defiance of ex NOTW staff in front of their adulating peers). Could it be that mint offers a close to home understanding and reminder of how we should consider not just the NOTW but the print press in general?

Here is a herb that has a reputation for spreading quickly that it takes in all in its path. Dominating without apology, justifying itself simply by the need to have it.

I, of course, wanted it. It lifts a dreary meal, spices up a summer drink and is just something that I had always grown up with. In truth, it despite us gardeners knowing how invasive it is has a reputation carefully honed on the access to us given by ice cream makers, after dinner confectioners and pea chefs over the years. Keeping its methods hidden only until one stops to consider the extent of its influence:

Mint roots

I was genuinely taken aback at the size and reach of these roots. No wonder everything else cowered in the face of this insidious herb.

My mint has been destroyed, I will be replanting herbs next weekend with some care and thought (not least to work out if I can grow through the autumn). If monitored properly I do hope I can have my mint and not let it ruin the lives of other herbs.

I don't often like to get serious on this blog, but discovering what was going on in that soil, does make me think that unless we have proper transparency about what goes on - who politicians and police meet, when, why and what they talk about, and a proper debate about whether journalists and media outlets are indeed uncovering the truth or just selectively creating narratives however honestly intended, then we are only ever going to remain addicted to society's equivalent of mint whilst it spreads its ever invasive and powerful roots through the compost of Westminster and beyond.

I promise to find my humour again soon, and to take your mind off it all a little tune to lift your spirits and take you back to the title:

Issues of gravity

We all know what happens if you don't get the right support. Gravity takes control.

A force of such manipulation and evil, it shows about as much mercy as a media baron with its cancerous red-top. Once it takes hold there is no stopping it. You know its existence is necessary so you end up accepting that this is the way it has to be, even if it pains you to do so, even if you know the world could be so much better if only it wasn't so powerful (who here has always wanted to be able to fly?)

To my cost these past weeks I have found out what happens if you don't get the right support. You have to direct all your energy to protecting yourself and fighting the things, and the people, that pull you down. It has brought a halt to my gardening and indeed my writing.

Without my gardening, my veg has not had the support it has needed either. With more to come, I'll start off with the cherry and normal tomatoes. After writing about my fear of a ripening harvest I confess the thought of trying them started to appeal - the thrill of a challenge perhaps?

I started them off in the grow house until they were over 4 inches or so and then planted them out by canes. I only knew that they would grow up and fairly tall but in the rush of the modern world I neglected to read up on planting out. I didn't tie them to the canes, hoping they would find a natural means of attaching themselves much like beans and sqaushes do.

But no:

The canes in the background to the left are the support, the green leaves pushing and shoving to get to the front, to pose for the camera are my tomatoes at the moment. Aching to grow, tethered by an unseen force rather than a dedicated support. Granted, I made a feeble effort at providing them with the help they needed and so I must learn from this. If anyone has any tomato tips, please post them!

If they make it to fruit, then it shows that despite being unsupported, some still have the strength to survive...photos to come will show that they are the lucky ones...