Gardening exhibitionism

I have been taking pictures of our pumpkins. I’m very proud of them: we have several fine-looking specimens of various shapes and hues and one enormous green, knobbly affair that looks like it might house a colony of Martians. I’ve posted the pictures on my blog and bored my friends with them on Facebook. What is this need to ..well … show off. I suppose gardening is such an intense and often solitary business that, when given the opportunity, we want to crow about our achievements. It’s partly that we want to share our wonder of how a small seed dropped in to the soil all those months ago has grown into something productive. It’s a little like child rearing, you start with a tender little shoot to protect and feed , which then grows into an unmanageable adolescent stretching its gangly limbs over the plot … oh and playing host to a number of unsuitable friends – of whom many of them should be issued with ASBOS – that is Anti Social Bindweed Order. After all these nurturing efforts, you do hope to end up with a productive individual of whom you can be suitably proud. Everyone knows those people who never stop talking smugly about their offspring – and so it is with gardeners they just want to exhibit the fine specimens they have produced.

The desire to show off garden produce is very much evident in the local gardening show. I gather these events were introduced as a means of stimulating interest in growing vegetables presumably as part of the ‘Dig for Victory campaign around the 1940s. Their continuing popularity is testament to the desire to display our gardening successes. This year, for the first time, I visited a local show and was intrigued  and hugely impressed by the entries all neatly arranged on trestle tables. It was all gloriously homespun with giant onions jostling for space with the preserves  and oddest-shape vegetable display. It seemed all just a bit of fun …. that was until the grand announcement of the winning entries. The atmosphere turned expectant and just a touch tense – did Mrs P really deserve to win the best flower arrangement (not only that she carried off the rosette for the best jam as well), were old Dan’s carrots really up to snuff! The category of prizes were seemingly endless and imaginative and by the time all the winners were finally announced I was more interested in scoffing a gigantic slice of home made Victoria sponge – mmmm I wonder if it was one of Mrs P’s homebakes? Ah well it was congratulations to some and better luck next year to others and despite the intensity of the competition one got the feeling people just wanted to say, ‘look what I’ve been doing all summer – this is what I have created – it’s  a part of me.

As for open gardens, what better way to spend a summer afternoon then poking around someone else’s patch. It’s a great way to get ideas and discover new plants.  But what about the owners of these gardens? Yes the entry fees are a brilliant way to raise funds for charity, but I reckon that a part of them really loves to share the joy of their beautiful garden with other people. So much thought and creativity goes in to the cultivation of a patch that when it reaches its pinnacle how lovely it must be to hear people exclaiming what a thing of beauty it is. Of course it doesn’t have to be a National Trust size property, we even want to show off the smallest of patches – note how many people pay particular attention to their front garden so passers by can appreciate their pretty flowers and scented shrubs they have cultivated.

I have to say I do have that showing off instinct myself – even in the allotment. Our twenty-something daughters come down from London for the weekend and are ritually dragged to the plot – they come unsuitably dressed with a look that I can only describe as intense boredom. I talk them through what we have been doing and then try and engage them by asking them questions. ‘Do you know what we’re growing here,’  I say pointing at carrot fronds….’Courgettes,’ they reply in a deadpan fashion. I look at them  to see if they are joking? Do they really not know what they are? Or are they just being deliberately awkward to cut short the visit. The answer comes when after 5 minutes they start looking at their watches – shall we go to the pub now, they say rather too emphatically… hmmmmm

Ah well I ‘ve just checked my Facebook – a friend has seen the pictures of my pumpkins and has commented ‘Great crop Paula’.  Hurrah, someone appreciates my hard work!