The hanging gardens of pixieland

The allotments looked so dark and colourless, shrowded in plastic and with little growing in them, that I was desperate to put colour in them somehow. I decided on hanging baskets. I acquired one from my dad that was bleached aqua by the sun and was beginning to lose its coating, and along with it a totally rusty bracket. I rather liked the timeworn look though. I'm a fan of the Japanese idea of wabi sabi. This is the idea that there is beauty in an object which has undergone the process of decay. It is the beauty of being in time and bound to the earth. Natural decay creates many different patterns and textures, and there is a wordless poetry in the way it changes form. I also like rusty broken old things because they often cost no money at all. I put the wabi sabi hanging basket and bracket on my wabi sabi shack, and they certainly looked like they were made for each other.

I treated the other allotment's tiny shed to a brand new tiny hanging basket to match its more pristine character.

I decided on sustainably sourced sphagnum moss as a liner, as it would provide year round colour and texture and was a living thing. The tiny basket is a mix of moss and wool actually, as I didn't have quite enough moss, and the wool was surplus to my Dad's requirements. It gives an interesting layered effect.

I filled each basket with a rainbow of colours - snowdrops, irises, cyclamen and violas. They've cheered me and the allotment through the winter months, although the cyclamen suffered quite badly from the frost. They still keep bravely putting forth buds though.

too much of a good thing

I suppose the issue that has most coloured the last two months is my addiction to black plastic, and how I came to a sticky end through it. 

I found myself becoming increasingly depressed by the overwhelming presence of black.  It was as if I was being suffocated under it just as much as the weeds.  I realised how much it was affecting me when I cleared some of it away to prepare my Yule bonfire.  I immediately felt lifted and lightened when it was off the land. I noticed how much the plastic had already cleared the knotted mass of grassy stems and leaves. Everywhere was a good clean brown. 

It was a fine structure of a bonfire, incorporating my Dad's old shed and a lot of bone dry paper and cardboard.  I was very proud. It came to life at Yule in a most beautiful and dramatic manner.  It was a thoroughly illuminating and magical fire, and a time for making hearty wishes for the future.  I really felt in tune with the turning seasons and the magnificent cosmic dance that surrounds me.  Sometimes it takes a bonfire to make me aware of it. 

The only downside was I left the car back door open again and almost had a flat battery.  Charis the Yaris bless her has a rather sensitive battery, and it doesn't take much for her to go into hibernation this time of year.  She did totally go flat once at the allotment, when I'd got carried away and left the back door open for a couple of hours.  Luckily that time she did recover by just leaving her to recharge on her own for an afternoon.

So after the bonfire I had a strong desire to remove all the black plastic, but was torn as it was the wrong time to sow green manure and I couldn't face having to weed a good 100 metre square area of land. 

However, my karma caught up with me, and the time came when I had to return what was not mine, as a matter of urgency.  I had to return it in the state I had found it, which took a lot of hard work.  Family and friends marvelled at my achievement.  Under the cover of darkness I waited until the coast was clear, then dragged my karma like a dead body into a place where it looked like it had always been.  I had learnt my lesson.  I had thought the allotment was abandoned.  Again I hear my mad medieval studies teacher admonishing me with the words 'never assume anything'.  There is a fine line between madness and wisdom. 

Blackplasticgate coincided with the beginning of the new year, with the birds singing more strongly, and the days getting slightly longer.  One by one the smaller pieces of black plastic found their way back to the communal area where I had found them.  I now only have a few pieces flapping around like massive prehistoric bats, tethered to my land by old bits of wood and bricks.  In March I will be able to set them free, as I've purchased a reassuring quantity of green manure seed.  It will mean I will no longer be dependent on black plastic, and my soil will be much healthier for it. 

I was initially confused, and then in a state of wonder, over all the different green manures there are.  Green manures to fix and lift nitrogen, green manures to smother weeds, green manure for overwintering, green manure to leave in situ for several years, and low growing green manure to grow in between crops.  I was like a child in a sweet shop.  I made my choice and took the plunge with my plastic money, then discovered the same thing in my local hardware shop for half price!  Ah well, at least I was supporting a good cause. 

Together with the green manure, I bought a healthy amount of vegetable seeds from Garden Organic.  It is a very easy to use website, and they provide a very useful paper catalogue too.  I was able to buy the two varieties of courge I'd been coveting since I'd seen them growing in France.  I've also bought some purple beans and some magenta striped barlotti beans.  Also pop corn - small red cobs that look like giant raspberries.  I've also invested in chamomile and thyme seed, so I can create paths between the beds that aren't muddy and don't need mowing.  Most things don't have to be sown until March, but I'm going to sow the long curly sweet peppers and the chilli peppers this weekend.

That sinking feeling

I'm having to come to terms with the sad and unavoidable fact that my shack has terminal subsidence.  I only realigned the lock a few days ago, and already its sticking.  I'm going to have to get creative with orange baling twine. 

Today I planted the rest of the pretty double snowdrops I found hidden behind my bamboo fencing.  I remembered them from last year, and sure enough there they were their little faces all twinkling with the new year.  They were in a large tight clump, together with some crocuses.  They were so far above the soil that the bulbs were showing, and the crocuses seem to be blind.  I've planted them in rings around the four apple trees, along the new path that crosses the smaller allotment, and in the new beds bordering the new front door path of the same allotment. 

It was a beautiful sunny day today, just the right sort of day to send healthful wishes to the land and all the seeds that will be growing in it. 

Time flies

I can't believe it's so long since I wrote my last post!  So much has happened since, that it's going to take months to write it down. 

I seem to be attuned to the seasons, as the last two months were spent putting the garden to sleep, and strengthening its weak points.  These became clear as the nights became colder, and creatures started to adopt my shack as a place for snuggling up together.  The wren took her boyfriend there, and my lintel began to resemble one of those rocks inhabited by thousands of seagulls.  I tolerated it for a while, as I felt sorry for them, but there were plenty of other places to roost, including the very luxurious establishment I had purchased for her. 

So, I began a step by step process of sealing every hole or gap I could find in the shack.  This involved staple gunning roofing felt, nailing new planks over the floor,walls and door, and realigning the front door lock.  This last action eventually solved the problem, as I discovered that they were ingressing through the gaps top and bottom due to shack subsidence over the year.  The problem was I finally won the battle just before a particularly cold spell.  I just hope they survived.

I've also had a little battle with a rodent.  I first became aware of its presence because of a little offering left on my oilcloth table cloth one morning.  Actually for a mouse it was a rather large offering, so for a while I was concerned I had a rat.  Eventually I discovered what was going on.  I heard rustling in a wooden chest, and on opening it saw that the plates I had carefully stored away for bacon sandwiches had become the shelter of a small rodent.  There was fresh evidence piled into the bubble wrap.  I could see how it would have made a lovely warm home.  So out came the detol and the pink rubber gloves. 

I managed to discover the true identity of the culprit the other day when I was quietly having some refreshing herbal tea in the corner of my shack.  A little vole sneaked in through the open door, and scuttled round the floor.  Eventually it chose the guitar case on the bean bag as a pleasant place to stay.  I had to admire its wisdom.  Nice warm plastic supported by comfortable polystyrene beads.  I took pity and left it there for a while.  When I eventually came to disturb it, I was greeted by an implausably large pile of excreta, and an equally surprising quantity of urine.  It had soaked nicely into the golden corduroy of the bean bag.  Out came the detol and the gloves again.  I'm gradually learning to be as ruthless as my fellow creatures.