Garden Pottering

I like gardening—it’s a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.

ALICE SEBOLD

---

potter ¹ | ˈpɒtə | (North American English putter)

verb [no object]

occupy oneself in a desultory but pleasant way: I’m quite happy just to potter about by myself here.

---

Is there anything more delightful than a bit of pottering around the garden on a warm spring day, when you’re not in any hurry to be anywhere, or get jobs done by any particular time, and preferably you have no plan. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that pottering only happens when you have no plan. If you have plans for jobs to be done in the garden, then you crack on and do those jobs and that is called ‘gardening’ not pottering. It’s an important distinction.

Pottering often happens when you hadn’t planned to do any gardening at all, but for whatever reason, you find yourself with a stretch of free time. You pop into the garden to put something into the compost bin, and on the way, you spot something that needs watering, which you decide will only take a minute. But while you’re doing that, you spot a plant that needs a broken stem trimming off, and a weed that you really should pull out before it gets too big, and before you’re even really aware of it, you’re pottering around the garden. Somehow, the secateurs are in your hand, the trug is by your feet, you’re deadheading the daffodils and you’re digging dandelions out of the lawn. How did this happen?

I don’t know, but it’s the kind of gardening I love. It suits my ADHD brain, that loves to gently flit like a butterfly from one task to another, with absolutely no agenda, no schedule, nobody watching you, or telling you what to do. It’s not a chore that needs to be done, or like cooking that involves concentrating and doing things in a certain order. There’s no right or wrong order to how you do things when you potter, and often you don’t quite know what you’re going to do next, you’re just in the moment and going with the flow. You can switch your brain off entirely, or allow your thoughts to drift while you work. It’s very mindful. You might stop for a few minutes to watch a bee, or ponder what to do with an empty pot, staring into space and seemingly doing nothing, until you randomly decide to reorder the trays of seedlings on the greenhouse shelves. I guess I do something similar in the house, but then it’s just tidying-up and housework, which is definitely a chore. Some people probably see gardening as outdoor housework, but I am not one of them.

I found myself pottering the other day when my other half was in the kitchen cooking us dinner, and instead of working on the crossword or reading my book, I wandered out into the garden on a balmy early evening, and one small and easy task led to another, and then another, and then – you guessed it, I was full on garden pottering. Just waiting to be called in for my dinner like a kid. A very happy, big kid.

I potter around my allotment sometimes too. Usually at the start of the gardening year there is no time for idle pottering, as there’s too many jobs that really have to be done. I have a definite agenda to fulfil, and need to be home by a certain time, so I have to be pretty self-disciplined so as not to accidentally drift into pottering, which can happen when I get distracted. But once most of the jobs have been completed, and there’s less to do, then there is space for a little pottering. I will head down there with the intention of, let’s say, sowing some beans, and maybe weeding the garlic, and coming straight home afterwards. Except once I’m actually there, I spot other jobs that need doing, and so all plans go out of the window, and time allowing, I will happily potter back and forth.

As we get into the dog days of summer, then pottering really comes into play. Hot weather can drain your energy (if you’re anything like me) meaning pottering is really all you can manage. It’s not generally a time for planting much, and the potting shed or greenhouse has been emptied out. So you throw some water around, pull up the odd weed and tie in wayward stems and shoots, nothing too taxing. Once we get into August and the allotment harvests begin, there’s nothing better than ambling around the plot with a basket hung over one arm, picking a few things here and there. A couple of courgettes, the first ripe tomato, a head of lettuce, a fat onion that’s going to seed and needs using, and as you go, pinching out a side shoot on a tomato plant, removing a yellow leaf on a brassica. There’s no plan, because you don’t know what you’re going to find down there, so the garden dictates and you do what needs doing, but in a casual, unhurried way.

I think this is all to do with me getting older, having passed the half-century mark. I can see myself pottering more in my later years, like my mum did. I’ve never been a great one for making plans anyway at the best of times, I even gave up making a planting plan for the allotment a few years ago and now just wing it. I’m finding that doing things in a slower, more relaxed way is far better than getting all stressed. Having more time certainly helps, my freelance work is slowing down which I’m not totally unhappy about, but also, through experience, I know that things always get done whether you rush them or not, and the allotment gets filled whether you make a plan or don’t.

So yes, tick off the to-do list by all means, but also, if you can, lose yourself in a bit of mindful garden pottering, it’s great for the soul.

The above illustration was used for the cover of some garden journals, which I sell through Amazon Kindle Direct. They are great for planning a veg garden (which you sometimes need to when you’re not pottering) with helpful tips for each month, and space to keep notes. The link below will take you to the Amazon UK page, but they can be bought through any Amazon site.