I used to think that my interest in gardening made me a bit of an old granny (read also: knitting). Growing peas and peonies just didn’t seem very cool so I didn’t really share this passion with anyone else. I remember feeling peculiarly elderly at around aged 23 when a friend’s younger brother brought his groovy pals round to our house and caught me in a reverie planting out some ornamental grasses in the front garden (ooh Arthur!). I cringed at the realisation that nothing I could say about Sonic Youth (and I could have said a lot) would endear me to the cool kids now. For some years after that I lived without a garden, so my geriatric urges were suppressed, but now I have learnt to embrace the dark, mulchy side of me, and lucky for me I married someone who thinks anything I do is pretty ok, so I have free rein to be a bit of a loon.
Well, it seems I am not as alone as I thought I was back then. If only I had known about Alys Flowler, Evan Schoepke and James Wong and the cool, urbanite, botanical world they inhabit, literally ploughing their own furrows. Alys does urban foraging workshops, and she pens columns, presents TV programs, and writes books! Hmm, she also manages to be totally right on whilst she does it. Oh dear me.

You can tell that The Edible Garden is one of my favourite books: I leave my copy lying around the house and my daughter has taken the opportunity to scribble in Biro across most of the pretty pictures. I often flick through the book just to look between the scribbled pen lines at the photos, but there’s lots of good stuff to read too. Like how to embrace the ordered chaos of polyculture; growing on a small scale without spending money; growing for food or to be useful in some way, rather than only being ornamental; and generally not being uptight about it.

Whilst I acknowledge that there is a place in the world for art for arts sake, this gardening for a purpose idea (Alys calls it ‘floral food’ and ‘edible landscaping’ ) speaks to me as a Mum on a budget with limited space. “Welcome to another way”, she writes. “At last”, I gasp, and “thank you!”

It is Alys who has inspired me to mix echinacea, leeks, lavender and artichokes, cabbages, tomatoes, violas, strawberries and sunflowers in the borders around the lawn that my daughter plays on, to sow green manures on my allotment and experiment with compost, and to embrace the joys of the edible flower. I haven’t tried the Japanese knotweed frittata or the nettle soup yet. I can’t quite come to terms with allowing the scourges of my gardening life to hold any useful place in it. But I’m getting there.
