Part of the reason I did not read all my 20 Books of Summer – other than laziness – was that a few months ago I took over an allotment garden, and promptly failed to make a decent start at it. I’ve been trying over the summer to reclaim some of the (literal and metaphorical) ground that I lost to inaction. My plot neighbour very kindly offered to scythe the weeds when I first took it over, because it was a jungle – however, because I was so obscenely busy at work in June and July, I completely failed to make good on this by mulching the scythed areas, and by the time I was actually in a position to work on it, it was completely overgrown again. (I feel terrible about her cutting down all those weeds for nothing. For a while it actually looked worse than before I took it over, though I am slowly getting it back under control). In between gradually digging it over, sowing green manure, and filling many black sacks with bindweed to rot away for a couple of years, I’ve been reading books and watching Youtube trying to work out how, exactly, to get the space the way I want it.
One of the Youtube channels I’ve really come to love over the past few years is Byther Farm – hosted by Liz Zorab, who has a smallholding in Wales. She started out in a micro-smallholding of 0.8 acres, but a few months ago she and her husband moved to a much larger area – though still in “smallholding” category. Her first book, Grounded: A gardener’s journey to abundance and self-sufficiency, came out this year, and it’s an account of the early years of her smallholding experience, from buying the property in late 2015 to the first months of the pandemic in 2020. Although I do daydream about somehow finding well-paid part-time work, buying a smallholding, and trying to become as near self-sufficient as possible, I realise that this is either a never-to-be-achieved fantasy, or at least fifteen years away. I’d be too lonely both living by myself in the countryside, especially doing a job with no colleagues and especially given that I can’t drive; I can’t imagine what I would do to pay the bills that would leave me sufficient time to grow; I couldn’t afford a property of that type except, perhaps, in some of the remotest parts of Scotland or northern England, where I would be starting from scratch in terms of understanding growing conditions and climate. Despite (or perhaps because of) this, I love to read accounts from people who have tried it, especially if they’ve actually succeeded.
Grounded isn’t a how-to. It’s something closer to a memoir, though that’s not quite right either. Maybe it’s most like a well-written, informative gardening journal that has been interspersed with personal narrative? It’s a chronological retelling – which makes sense for the content – organised into Years 1, 2, 3, and 4. Each year is given a theme, and then the narrative broadly follows that theme, with subheadings scattered throughout the book rather than traditional chapter format. This meant that there was a little repetition year-to-year, but given that the repetition normally came along with an observation of something the author had learnt, this didn’t bother me (something along the lines of “because this had worked well in the previous year, here’s how I built on it this time” etc). In places, the style was a bit too chatty and informal for me, but I can see that it would work really well for a lot of people, and it certainly didn’t intrude on my enjoyment overall.
The narrative of the book is interspersed with tips and tricks, large photos, and other elements. One particular device I appreciated was the inclusion of a few of Zorab’s old blog posts from the early days of the smallholding – clearly identified and dated (see below) – along with reflections and analysis on these posts with a few more years’ experience. Turning a blog/podcast/Youtube channel into a book can be a challenging endeavour, especially when it comes to providing new information or content. By reflecting on her past blog entries, Zorab makes it really worth reading the book. It’s useful to learn from other people’s experience (and mistakes!). The little inserts about different gardening know-how also worked well for me – it’s the type of thing you would more commonly see in a straightforward instructional book, but it works well interspersed with the narrative here.
On the other hand, I am ready to stop hearing about how people with a lot of outside space, a spouse/housemate/family that they get on with, and a job that easily adapts to home working have had a fabulous pandemic and it’s really made them reflect on What Truly Matters In Life #blessed. I mean, good for you, but also keep it to yourself. There is a bit of that in here. It was less irritating than it is when it’s completely unsolicited – partly because the Byther Farm channel has some of that vibe baked in already, so I was prepared for it, and partly because the book is also honest about difficult and painful experiences. At the time when they took the smallholding over, Zorab was very unwell with a thyroid condition and immunological issues, and the difficulties associated with trying to balance a very physical outdoor job and a condition that meant she often struggled to get out of bed are detailed in the early chapters. Her health improves significantly over the course of the book, and that is a real delight to read about.
How useful did I find it re my allotment? Well, there are innumerable differences between my situation and the one covered by Grounded: I have a small plot that probably could not produce enough food for me even if I treated it like a full-time job; I have immediate neighbours on either side whose land necessarily affects mine (one of my neighbours has a neglected plot that’s overrun with bindweed, so I’ll never get rid of it in my own space); I can’t keep chickens or ducks per the terms of my allotment agreement, and even if I could that’s too much commitment given that I can’t get there every day. And even in terms of climate – Monmouthshire is not that far away from Southampton in practical terms, but it gets a lot more rain than we do. Therefore, not all of the advice in Grounded was practical for my situation – e.g. I simply don’t have enough land to grow sacrificial brassicas, though I am leaving a small patch of stinging nettles at the back of my plot so that butterflies and moths can still lay their eggs. However, it did help me to think about how to reuse things. For example, I have an old bookshelf that isn’t suitable for use in my new flat, but every charity shop I have tried to give it to has turned down because it has a crack in the top corner that makes it less aesthetically pleasing. I’ve held onto it stubbornly, not wanting this perfectly functional piece of furniture to go to landfill, and reading about a wardrobe being repurposed gave me the idea of turning it into a raised bed, which has now gone on my autumn jobs list. Similarly, I’ve been wanting to plant clumps of wildflowers in and around my vegetables – for beauty and for pollinators – and reading about Zorab’s success with this was encouraging.
More than anything else, Grounded has given me the confidence to experiment and I am grateful to it accordingly. The people who are regulars at my allotment site are very experienced gardeners and their plots are beautiful and productive, so it’s a little intimidating when mine is half nettles*. Reading a book that includes mistakes and reflections, as well as a necessarily slow start due to Zorab’s health concerns, is immensely reassuring. I will obviously be reading more gardening books in the coming months, especially over winter when the weather is too grotty to get outside much, but I would really recommend this as a good place to start. It’s a very friendly welcome to the world of vegetable growing.
*There is one very nice woman who obviously wants to help me, but speaks almost no English, so a lot of my allotment time at the moment is spent listening to advice delivered in slow and patient Polish, none of which I understand. We are managing okay with a lot of Google Translate and some vigorous pantomime, though.
louloureads 
I’m impressed! The idea of growing my own food is way too much for my dedicated city girl soul. In the event of a dystopian disaster, I’d starve! But my dad used to grow loads of veggies in our surprisingly big back garden when we were kids (surprising because it was a council house) and stuff really did taste better when it was freshly picked, plus there was that sense of satisfaction that comes with doing something yourself. Was never quite so keen on the occasional caterpillar in the cabbage though… 😱 I look forward to hearing how you get on once your allotment is established.
Thanks! Yes, stuff definitely tastes better when it’s fresh and it feels like an accomplishment – my grandparents grew almost all their own veg (they were in a tied house on the farm where my granddad worked, so tonnes of space), and I have a lot of fond memories of “helping” them when I was very young. Here’s hoping I can be even a quarter as productive once I’ve got a few years’ experience!
You are one of the most independent women I’ve ever known. I now picture your forward movement in life being something like a children’s adventure book — when you described your walking tour, I could absolutely see the connection you made to books.
From gardening to making a bed to working in health care, it’s a lot! You shouldn’t say you did not finish your 20 Books of Summer because you’re lazy. Just a couple sentences later you wrote you were “obscenely busy at work in June and July.”
I did read a book about trying to live sustainably and only eating what is grown and produced within 100 miles, and I hated that book so hard. Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. She fails to mention how she and her husband and two children could live on a farm and only eat what’s made within 100 miles because she’s a famous writer with money who can work from home.
Thank you! Yes, I suppose I probably shouldn’t say that I was lazy. I had really hoped to get a lot read and a lot done during my three weeks’ holiday, but my second jab really knocked me out for a week, so I spent several days lying limply on the sofa watching telly – which is what felt lazy to me. Though I must admit it was nice to have the excuse.
Well, I’m not making an actual bed – the closest I get to that at the moment is assembling an IKEA package! My dad was a carpenter for twenty years so he could probably teach me to make an actual bed, but I think the capacity for disaster with the two of us arguing at each other while holding power tools would be too much to risk. The raised bed is for my allotment; all I’ll have to do is knock out the back and cut out the shelves.
Yes, I’ve heard that about Animal, Vegetable, Miracle in the past. One of the things I really appreciated about Grounded, which got cut from this review for length, was that Zorab goes into depth about what she and her husband have chosen to cut out of their life to make it affordable for them to live like this – any international travel, meals out, buying clothes new rather than second-hand etc. She doesn’t pretend it’s a perfect paradise, just that it really works for them.
I’m fortunate that my second shot only made my armpit swell, which was weird and awkward, but not so bad as what many folks describe. I half wonder if many of the vaccine skeptics are more worried about side effects of the shot. In the U.S., it can be really hard to take time off work, and if a shot for a virus takes you out for a week when you weren’t sick to begin with (and don’t if you’ll ever get covid), I can see some of the hesitation.
Ohh!!! I was thinking the wrong kind of bed, but I know what you mean now. Also, yes, I know from past experience: never argue with a father when someone is holding power tools. Or if it’s hot.
I’d love to read more about sustainability folks who make it work without a giant nest egg or good paying job that doesn’t involve physical labor and you can do from home. Right before I left the library, I noticed lots of folks were checking out books on homesteading.
Remember when were lazy because we were reading, not because we weren’t? I got sacked once for reading instead of looking like I was working.
Milly, my ex-wife, has turned her front yard into a vegie garden during these years of Covid. She always struggled to get me outside. In the end we swapped, I could stay inside on Sundays and watch football if I did the ironing and she would mow the lawn and tend the garden.
I have never been sacked for reading, but I did get into trouble at school for reading novels in science lessons. I started reading ahead in the class textbook instead, but my teacher didn’t like that either. My position was: I am getting excellent marks on every piece of work you set me and I’m not being disruptive, so I don’t see the problem. If I’m reading in your lessons, you should consider make them more interesting! (This held true – I got a better teacher the next year and actually started paying attention again).
This is great! I’m glad that you are getting something out and enjoying your plot of land. Last year was the first time I ever planted vegetables so I am still very much in the learning stages too. There is a lot of trial and error and figuring out what works for our household but I’ve gotten so much satisfaction from our little harvests. I am now trying to convince my husband to turn a chunk of our lawn over to vegetable beds!
It is so satisfying to harvest your own fruit and veg! Glad you have enjoyed it this past year.
And now I have a new YouTube channel to watch! I love watching gardening/homestead type youtube channels. I have big garden dreams every year. LOL
Oh yes, her channel is great!