The Stinging Sixties

How Nettles Made Me Rethink Retirement

I recently suffered a traumatic mental health crisis which came (apparently) from nowhere and took me out for several weeks. It caused me to make some questionable decisions, and act on them, in an irreversible way. I experienced extremely troubling thoughts, and was, for a short while, completely ungrounded.

I have to acknowledge that for some, this is a regular thing, and for them I now have the utmost empathy and respect. I was very fortunate to discover that the cause of this event was in fact a drug trial on which I was enlisted. Stopping the medication and taking some time to allow my system to rid itself, has pretty much repaired the damage, but it was a humbling and shocking experience.

The Wet and Windy Weeks

The earlier part of spring here was still very cold and wet, but getting outside was very necessary as I fought the thoughts which were trying to bring me down. I have a quite neglected vegetable garden to conquer, as you will know if you’re a regular reader, so without much focus, I just went down there when I could, and made progress.

I’m also currently writing a book, which has the great advantage that should I choose to shelter in the polytunnel for half an hour, with a mug of tea on a potting bench and my notebook on my knees, I can be said to be working. After a chilly and challenging hour clearing a bed which had been under plastic for the winter, I therefore got to thinking about nettle roots, and it is this reflection I bring to you now, especially if you are of an age to wonder what ‘retirement’ is going to mean to you. (Although do please participate if you are decades away from that point. If it lies beyond the horizon of your future, I hope you will store these thoughts away for later use. If it lies in the sunlit meadows of your past, then maybe you will have something to add, or alter?)

Undercover of Mulch

If you are learning to live this life of self sufficiency, and part of that is growing food, then you will at some point find yourself tackling the issues of the garden in winter. In days gone by, it was normal to dig over the veg plot in autumn, and leave it effectively ‘ploughed’ for the winter.

“These are critical times, but we shall get through them, and the harder we dig for victory the sooner will the roses be with us.”

Mr. Cecil Henry Middleton (1886 – 1945)

Certainly that worthy, Mr. Middleton, who led the campaign advisedly called ‘Dig for Victory’ during WWII in the UK emphasised digging over the plot, ‘putting it to bed’ and waiting for winter to do its work.

These days, digging is a lot less popular. The No Dig movement along with Regenerative Farming and Growing has led us to realise that disturbing the soil as little as possible, and keeping it covered, is the best way to invest in soil health, and therefore the health of the planet and also our food.

It is also the case that, probably as a result of climate change, and certainly ‘for now’, the hard frosts and snowfalls we used to see in winter, here in the southern UK, just don’t happen, and part of the logic of Mr. Middleton and his peers was that the soil, once dug over, was exposed to extreme cold, which killed off pests and diseases, and also broke down the soil somewhat, to help us get a good ‘tilth’ for seed sowing in spring.

Taken together, these two things mean that I disturb the soil as little as is practicable, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean I can go 100% No Dig. If your climate zone is different to mine, and you do still get cold, drier winters, and hard frosts, I would advise you to talk to local growers and regenerative practitioners, and get their advice for your garden.

Some of my beds were initially laid out as No Dig beds, with a full 15cm of compost on top of cardboard, some weren’t. I cannot afford nor logistically manage to be creating new beds this way, nor topping every bed with 3cm of compost every year, so we have a mixed bag. Over winter, the beds need to be covered. In an ideal world, they would be covered with something growing - a perennial crop or a green manure. The next best option is something organic, which will eventually compost itself - cardboard or sheep's fleece, for example. Last and ultimately in the ‘better than nothing ‘ category is the dreaded black silage plastic. Yes, it’s chemical, yes, it’s plastic, and I would prefer it not to be there, but for now (and ‘for now’ is a phrase I use a lot. Being pragmatic is perhaps a gift of age?) it is better than nothing.

One such bed was today’s task and I peeled back the black plastic to find, among the dead foliage, innumerable rodent holes (note to self - do not direct-sow beans here!) and strangely emerging plant labels and debris (so that’s what happened to that teaspoon) the knotted and gnarled labyrinth of nettle roots, gearing up for spring and sending forth their young.

Tough Mothers

I am told that the best time to uproot nettles is in spring, because all their energy goes into firing up leaves, and the roots are left depleted. These roots of course were ‘written off’ and buried over winter, but their tenacity and their determination to launch a new generation is an eye opener.

What made me think about me, though, is that, if this is uprooting them easily, how tough must they be in autumn when their focus is on securing their roots. Twenty years ago, all I thought about was launching my leaves, my sturdy little plants, my two wonderful daughters - but they are now plants themselves, and will grow as they choose. Meanwhile I am nearing ‘retirement age’ (as adjusted by the massive fiddle that was the WASPI scam of which I wrote here ) but not able to ‘retire’ in any true meaning of the word.

I think I had just got caught in a loop. ‘I am due to retire, but to retire implies being able to do things at leisure, while supporting yourself with the funds you have accumulated together with state provision. I haven’t really accumulated any funds, and state provision is inadequate. Therefore I just need to ignore this watershed and carry on as if nothing has happened, but … I am due to retire!’

Photo by Paul Morley on Unsplash

The web of roots I was heaving from the ground ‘spoke’ to me and said:

“Dig Deep! Retire on the surface, by all means. Go quiet, let the sheet mulch keep you warm and dry for a while. But now is time for a new and different life. Disappear beneath the soil, and build. Make yourself strong. Then grow for resilience and power.”

Nettles also set seed. The seed is actually a very nourishing food supplement (of which more another time) and is no doubt spread by birds and other critters to places where the underground root system is yet to reach. So while my rooted cuttings are off out in the world, doing their own thing, the words and other media I can offer here are like the seeds - available to be scattered to the four winds.

Let Us Colonise the Corners

In this new (or newly formatted, depending on who you are) adventure into smallholding and self-sufficiency we have no need to plant ourselves in straight rows in great, visible fields. We shall be safe growing in clumps in the corners.

It feels like now is a splendid time to have a little more control over our food supply, our resources, our clothing and household needs, our interaction (or lack thereof) with societal pressures and norms, and to just generally take control of our next offering, our last great phase, our legacy.

For myself, I am moving towards shaping up, perhaps dropping a few pounds, getting some more focused exercise (chasing errant sheep is exercise, but whether it results in improved fitness or a muddy faceplant and time out with an injury is pretty much a 50/50 shot), a little boost of self respect (a hair cut, maybe?) and then, the sheet mulch is coming off, baby! Those roots have had time to mature, to twist to turn, and toughen up. Let's just let them loose on the world.

I would love you to join me, here at the Journal. I have so many plans for this smallholding season, this new life in later life, and there is no time to spare! I have projects waiting, and as I learn, or relearn, or discover more I will share them here, so that we can collaborate on bringing them into being.