Sowing the seeds for a life of abundance

The perpetual rhythm of planting, tending and harvesting brings a feeling of hope and fulfilment to Diana Yates, and it extends beyond her Greenfields garden to all of her life

The pungent scent of alliums is wafting out from the shed, and I can barely squeeze through the door with the crates I have stacked high, laden with this year's curing garlic, shallot and onion harvest. At moments like these, I wish for Inspector Gadget arms, as my snips are perched just out of reach at the far end of the shed.

'I think we should build an outdoor crop drying station, I call out to Andrew, while mid-split over the crates.

'Let's finish the chicken coop first,' he responds, amusement lacing his tone.

'Ha, got them!' I exclaim to no one in particular.

With my trusty snips in hand, I delve into the first crate overflowing with bulbs of hardneck garlic, with their large cloves and easy-to-peel skins. We've savoured the garlic scapes (the long green shoots that grow from the top of the bulbs) lightly sautéed with fish and as the base of pesto for the past couple of weeks. Though hardneck varieties don't store as well as soft necks, their rich flavour makes them worth growing. After three weeks of curing in the dry, warm shade of the shed, the stems and outer skins are papery perfection. I swiftly lop off the stalks and brush off any dried soil before carefully placing them in a wire basket.

The softneck garlic is next, perfect for braiding, a task that always fills me with a sense of accomplishment. I leave the stalks intact and plait them as I did my daughter's hair. Hanging up a few braids of garlic and onions each year never fails to evoke immense satisfaction.