Onions

About six weeks ago I was whining in the general direction of my Ma about my lack of garden. I am sure that I was whining about lots of things that day. She was pointing out the new plot that my step father had worked on to put the potatoes in. She was excitably telling me about the strawberry plant, the over zealous appearance of garlic and the new shoots of real rhubarb appearing beneath the old tin bath that is their home. 


Assuming that there wouldn't be any hybrid cross flavours developing in the plot below I quickly accepted the armful of fresh leeks she'd pulled for me to take home. I might not have a garden but I eat freely from those that do.


I was giving up on the whining. In the face of my mother skipping around her veg plot in a long swishy skirt and expensive wellies I couldn't battle with her positivity. However, never underestimate a mother's ability to be listening whilst appearing to be silly. I was sent home with a plant pot containing some soil and four onion bulbs.


Every couple of days I peer into the pot to see what is happening. Now the tall green shoots are watching the highstreet below and basking in this unseasonal summer weather.


It would seem you can grow onions indoors. However, I suppose I'll have to wait until I pull them to see if the bulbs have formed into real onions.


Onions, cress, tomatoes. It isn't a bad start, though I still long for a garden of my own.