Last year, my mother did something I never would have expectedshe decided to start selling us vegetables from her own garden. She said that since we hadnt come round to help her, that was how it was going to be. She seemed to forget rather quickly about who paid for the water connections, the greenhouse, the help that dug up the beds and set up the lot.
We used to buy our fruit and veg cheaply from the shop anyway.
We never had a little country cottage to escape to. We always lived in London, and I dont think my father ever even saw what potatoes looked like before they landed on a supermarket shelf. Mum, on the other hand, grew up in a small village. Shed had her fill of the whole romantic countryside garden business and didnt want to go back. Hampers as presents.
While Dad was alive, we didnt need to worry about growing food ourselveshe always looked after us, even when times were hard. Mum worked too, but Dad made sure everything was covered.
Even afterwards, not much really changed.
Once I grew up and got a job of my own, I could help out, and I did. We shared the bills, since we lived together. I didnt move out of Mums flat until I got married two years ago.
Last year, Mum retired and decided she wanted to buy a little plot with a small cottage. She missed her childhood, pottering around her grandmothers enormous garden. She withdrew her savings and made the purchase. I honestly dont think its terribly convenient, but she loves it and thats all that matters. Family board games.
Of course, my husband and I had to chip in to get the house and garden sorted. We could afford toits not like we were rolling in it, but we had enough for proper renovations: running water inside, glazing for the veranda, the basics.
We flat-out refused to spend our weekends there as labourers. We had no interest in digging beds or pulling weeds. Were both born and bred in the city and would much rather enjoy a lie-in, meet up with mates, or just have a quiet Saturday together.
Mum wasnt shy in telling us off for our lack of interest, but these rants usually ended as soon as the next cheque cleared. There were always fresh expenses: the new greenhouse, the raised beds she wanted, the digging, even pulling up old shrubswe paid for it all, so Mum didnt lift a finger.
We paid for her taxis, too, whenever she was saddled with heavy shopping she couldnt be bothered to drag onto the train and then schlep on foot.
Every so often, Mum would regale me with updates from her gardening endeavours, showing me photos of how colourful and tidy everything looked nowa true wonder to behold. I tried not to look too bored, since I never truly understood the fuss. And that was that, until Mum sent me a photo of her strawberries one day.
They looked gorgeousbig, bright red berries. I could almost taste them just from the picture, my mouth watering with memories of their flavour. I asked Mum to set some aside for me, promising to pick them up after work. It never occurred to me shed reply with a photo of different-sized tubs, listing the prices.
I actually had to reread her messagethinking maybe Id missed something, perhaps shed started talking about something else.
Then I called her to make sure I hadnt misunderstoodwas she really going to sell me her homegrown strawberries?
Yes, she was.
And what did you expect? Im up here all daybreaking my back over every single plant to get fruit like thisand you and your husband, a pair of layabouts, havent helped once! Why should you get anything for nothing? You dont work, you dont eat! Mum snapped, voice shaking with stubbornness.
I reminded her, rather tartly, that wed done plenty to set up that garden in the first place. Mum took offence, saying, How can you talk to your own mother like that? Expecting money from me, now?
On principle, I have no intention of buying food from my own mother. Let her sell her produce to someone else. My husband and I will just get what we need from the farmers marketits simple enough these days. Mum kept at it, trying to flog us courgettes and cucumbers for a while, but we turned her down every time.
We wont be helping her with the garden anymore, even if she does ask. Well pay for important thingsher utility bills, her medicine, essentials for her health or wellbeing, of course. But for the sake of that garden? Not a chance.
