I can’t touch my mother or daughter, but at least I can give my plants attention

It’s nurture innit? We all need something to take care of in these peculiar times, particularly when we are discouraged from any close physical contact with our nearest and dearest, writes Jenny Eclair

Roses... mercifully unafflicted by ‘swan neck’ (Getty)

It’s going on a bit now isn’t it? This limbo land of “lockdown lite” with its vague instructions to do this but on the other hand don’t, unless you’re Dominic Cummings of course in which case, do what you like.

By the time this is printed, he will have either resigned or been sacked or neither, because that’s how everything is at the moment. Not every action has the consequence you might expect and so we all plod on in complete uncertainly, one rule for him, one rule for us.

At the moment there is only one thing we can all rely on to do her job properly and that’s Mother Nature who has been trying her hardest over the past few months to keep us entertained with her spring tricks. A few weeks ago she was conjuring up blossom and bluebells followed by spectacular displays of tulips and now as spring turns to early summer, the roses are unfurling and I find myself walking further to see and sniff the huge number of varieties that are bursting out around the neighbourhood.

I love them all, the climbers and ramblers, bushes and shrubs, from the tiny tight budded scarlet numbers to the great blowsy yellow petalled dames with deep, scented centres humming with bees. It’s been a long time since I have stolen anything, but I could make an exception for other folk’s roses.

I have never been one for gardening. If I’m honest, I’m slightly phobic about the feel of soil under my fingernails; it creeps me out and my hands itch on contact, but now that I have a constant supply of latex gloves I’m much more inclined to get stuck in.

Had I known back in March how much pleasure growing a few things in pots would give me, I’d have bought loads more. As it is, I have four pots of roses, three of which have been madly blooming for the past week. We don’t talk about the other one.

Unfortunately, because I don’t know enough about growing roses, they are all stricken with what I call “swan neck”. The stems are too thin to hold up the flowers and consequently they hang face down as if in shame. I visit my droopy roses every morning and give them a few words of encouragement, namely “buck up and put your shoulders back”, and then I see how my potatoes are doing.

I’ve got two pots of potatoes. In each pot I planted a little potato that had sprouted in the cupboard. A month later, I have leafy plants, this seems extraordinary to me. If I’m lucky, I might get enough potatoes in each pot to mash over a shepherds pie, for free! Who knew that the miracle of growing fresh new potatoes from a couple of old potatoes that I’d normally have binned could be this easy?

As for my dahlia which I grew from a very inauspicious-looking tuber, I am so proud of its ongoing development that, like an expectant mother, I have taken to watching dahlia growing videos on YouTube to make sure it’s progress is on track. Right now, mine is about eight inches tall,; apparently, soon I shall be “pinching it out”.

It’s nurture innit? We all need something to take care of in these peculiar times, particularly when we are discouraged from any close physical contact with our nearest and dearest. I cannot touch my mother or daughter but I’m allowed to grope my plants. No wonder my old flatmate who is yet to see, never mind hold, her brand new grandson, is gardening up a storm and I’m sure similar scenarios are going on up and down the country. Because surely something good must come of this, even if it’s just a home-grown courgette.

Whilst my nurturing instincts are limited to caring for a few pots of potatoes and a single dahlia, other people are finding themselves craving something more fun and furry. At this stage of the pandemic the demand for domestic pets is at an all-time high. So much so that when a friend phoned a breeder to enquire after a litter of brand new Labradoodles, she was the 60th caller that day. Pets are at a premium: kittens are changing hands for hundreds of pounds and even the humble hamster has rocketed in value. It’s a sellers market out there and sadly yet another horrific side effect of the virus is a global rise in animal scams. Apparently hundreds of thousands of pounds have been lost to online fraudsters demanding hefty deposits for non-existent pets around the world.

Gawd – there are some terrible people around and some of them aren’t even running the country.

For those who still have love to give but don’t fancy going down the plant or pet route, remember there’s always the option of the old sourdough starter kit. Which, as far as I can gather, is as needy and demanding as any other living thing. Failing that, have you thought about a Tamagotchi? Ah, remember? Those were the days.