Harvest Time

I long to be self sufficient. I suffer from severe vegetable patch envy when I see other peoples success and yet I just can't seem to pull off my own gardening prowess and that is something I am definitely going to need when I am living mortgage free in my earth ship (otherwise known as a hippy house) making my living through exhibiting my photography while Max writes his best selling crime novel.
Part of the blame rests on me, I never really bother to read gardening books fully, I brush over the detail and instead ooh and ahh over the images. But a large part of the blame rests on my daughters shoulders too, only today I discovered her in the garden with her Early Learning Centre scissors hacking the runner beans to pieces under the illusion she was harvesting them and she just adores the tomato plants, but hasn't quite worked out that a tomato needs to be red to be edible, of my pathetic harvest she has already plucked, bitten into then spat out nearly half a dozen, removed all the support canes to be stinging nettle whippers and copiously watered them (with not only the watering can but also the contents of her potty).
Next year I may not only have to slug proof my veg patch but toddler proof it too, that or plant so many strawberry plants that she will be so busy gorging herself that everything else will get the chance to reach its potential.
My shambolic attempt at tomato plants, not enough for a salad, let alone a batch of chutney.