Love will find a way

I discovered bees flying casually in and out of the net surrounding the broad beans today.  It seems like flower power is strong enough to encourage them through.  How reassuring. 

I had to replace the plastic hoops on the broad bean bed though, as they were too short for the rapidly developing plants.  One in particular looked very uncomfortable, all the new growth crushed right up against the net.  I cut some longer lengths, but the hoops still need to be higher.  It is an extraordinarily vigorous broad bean.  I'll make sure to collect beans for resowing from it.  I might be wiser to collect seed from a low bushy one really though. 

safely bedded in

Once I had a fully glazed greenhouse, I could safely plant the tomatoes inside it knowing they wouldn't be eaten by animals or damaged by the fitting of the glass.  

I moved the table so I now have quite a good space for growing them. The ground was surpisingly hard, like concrete.  Luckily tomato roots don't go deep.  I dug compost in and edged the bed with bricks, so I can add more compost and have a slightly raised bed.  An earth bed is more practical than using tomato compost bags, as the plants will be able to source moisture from outside, and won't be so dependent on me watering them.  I have noticed how well the weeds grow inside the greenhouse, and I've even had self sown violas thriving in there, so I am optimistic.  

I'm growing Roma tomatoes, the traditional Italian variety they grow for sun dried tomatoes and in cooking generally.  My haul from the seed swap included Chocolate Stripe, which is striped chocolate and red, and Peacevine Cherry, which apparently make you relaxed when you eat them. 

I left room for the luffah seedlings.  They are developing nicely in their seed tray.  I want to grow luffahs to see if they will be good for plant pots.  I already use them as cleaning pads, so it will be useful to have a home grown supply. 

I think I will extend the bed to run along the end of the greenhouse, but that involves moving the shelving, which is bound to lead to disaster if I try it presently. 

Bean feast

Today I planted out my barolotto beans.  I wanted to get them away from the potential slug menace in the greenhouse, and they had outgrown their seed tray. 

I dug a trench all around the wigwam support and lined it with comfrey leaves.  I then lay all the plants in it and filled it back up with earth again.  It was easier than digging holes really.  The comfrey lining will hold in moisture and provide nutrients for the roots. I can imagine how the whole structure will look very fine once the plants have matured and I've added a few sweet peas.

It's time to make some more nettle fertilizer. 

I fenced the plants in with chicken wire, as I've learnt the hard way that a whole crop can fall prey to slugs and rabbits over night.  I thought that would be enough, with the chippings as well.  How wrong I was.  I returned the next day to see significant slug damage on some of the leaves.  I think the rain makes a big difference to the effectiveness of the chippings.  I resorted to slug pellets.  They are organic, but the trouble is that mice eat them, so it's a bit of a waste of time putting them down outside a netted environment.  I'm going to have to make a proper net fence for these beans before they whole lot ends up in the stomachs of vermin. 

Dazed

I can't actually believe I have a fully glazed greenhouse once more.  It took some doing, like some kind of Herculean quest. 

I found the glass for free on Gumtree last year.  I thought I would wait until after the winds of March to replace it.  I measured up and labeled all the panes, took them to the glass cutter, and enthusiastically set about putting them in the frame.  It was only then that I discovered I had measured wrongly, and so most of the panes were too big. 

It took a while before I felt ready to try again.  I spent an intense morning measuring and remeasuring to be sure I'd got it right this time.  Luckily the Fates and my brain were with me, and my Dad and I spent a profitable afternoon fitting all the pieces in their appropriate slots.  I immediately felt the difference in temperature level in the greenhouse, as it was a hot day.  I'm now keeping the door propped open with a piece of plywood, to keep it well ventilated so the plants don't asphyxiate. The plywood will stop animals coming in and helping themselves to the vegetation. 

Slug proof

I have conclusive proof that wood chippings deter slugs.  I planted out my sunflowers, and around each one placed a circle of chippings.  Or so I thought.  A couple of days later I discovered one plant totally ragged from a slug attack.  That's when I discovered that I'd forgotten to put chippings round it. 

It was sad to see a young plant suffer, but it is good to know I have found an effective barrier for slugs. 

After a period of 24 hours continuous rainfall though there was evidence of slug damage on some of the plants, so I suppose chippings are slippery when wet. 

I plan to surround the beds in my long plot with it, but gradually, as I think I've rather overdone it lately with the barrowing of chippings.  They are surprisingly heavy, and I am inclined to forget that I have the build of a pixie.

Another problem I have with growing sunflowers in my plots is that the earth in a large part of it contains a fungus which attacks their roots, and then works its way up to the base of the flower head.  It makes the head droop sadly, and prevents it from developing.  It is a horrible thing to see happen to a sunflower, who love to turn their heads to the sun.  I have discovered though that if you leave them they do grow more flowers, and they don't seem to be affected in the same way.

This year I've experimented with planting rhubarb leaves around the root ball of each plant.  I've read that this is a way to prevent fungal diseases attacking potatoes, so I thought I would try it with sunflowers.  Time will tell if it works. 

The resilience of parsnips

I was relieved to discover that the parsnip seedlings hadn't all rotted in the period of heavy rain after all.  I have 21 of them, and while they were still small enough I spaced them out evenly and applied slug pellets.  The chippings really keep the slugs down, but there are still baby slugs in the earth of the beds. 

The radishes in the same bed have proved to have an age related problem.  Only a couple of the roots have swollen up into bulbs.  Apparantly this is to do with using old seed.  The seed I used was supposed to be sown by 2012, so that explains it.  Never mind, I can now use this space for the dwarf French beans, which need all the protection they can get from slugs and rabbits.  They have already suffered a snail attack in the greenhouse, and I lost half the plants.  I now have organic slug pellets placed strategically in every pot.  I think I discovered the culprit, which was in fact a rather small and cute looking snail.  I had evidence of its true nature, so sent it airborne into the maze in the hope that the ley lines there will give it super slime powers with which it can defeat vandals. 

Flying high

I bought a wind sock for my long allotment, to discourage pigeons.  It is so cheery!  I feel like it is my standard, and I am declaring my guardianship of the land with it. 

Perhaps I need to, as I found a surprising and unwelcome interloper the other morning

It appeared to be a very large and heavy branch of a cherry tree.  I found it weighing down the net protecting the onions and garlic.  It had crushed some leaves, and pierced a hole in the net, but it could have been much worse.  I managed to lift it off, and wandered around the allotments, trying to work out where it had come from.  It looked like someone had thrown it javelin style from one side of my plot.  In the end I put it down to the strong winds we have had recently, but could not find the tree it came from. 

Then there was news of the vandalism in the maze bordering my plot.  Three trees had been ripped down at their bases, and one other had just a couple of feet of stump remaining.  The picture of it on the website made everything fit together, as the angle of the ripped stump end was a perfect match to the ragged severing at the base of what was presently languishing in my plot.  It turned out it was not a branch, but a whole tree, and it had been thrown there.  It must have been thrown with some force, as it cleared the fence by a good 12 feet.  I'm just glad it didn't damage my apple trees. 

I was saddened by both the damage to the peace and plants of my plot, and the damage to the trees in a place which is used by the whole community.  I hope it doesn't happen again. 

The man who looks after the maze area kindly removed it for me.  It was funny to see him casually lift it onto his shoulder and walk off with it like it was no weight at all.  He is the same person who gave me the wood ash, so I am now doubly grateful to him. 

Secret support

My broad beans are developing well.  Apparantly it's not advised to plant alliums next to them, but there was a lot of evidence in forums online that this was totally erroneous, so I left them where they were. 

I did wonder if they would be fertilised under the netting, even though I had changed it to one with larger holes.  I suppose insects are wired to scent and can negotiate small spaces, so all should be well.  There was only one way to find out, and that was to leave the net in place. 

I can tell now that some of the flowers are falling off and revealing the tiny seed pod inside that all is going to plan.  It may be that they have been partially pollinated by the wind. Only when the crop really starts to ripen will I be able to tell how well fertilised the plants were.

The trouble with leaving them unnetted is that they are then totally exposed to the predations of vermin, and I'm not prepared to lose yet another crop to their talons and jaws. 

The beans are developing so well that they are needing a little help with support, as many were drooping down. I've now tied them up with pink string to the stakes, so when the beans start developing they won't break under the weight of them. 

Ashes to ashes

I was deep in my work applying chippings to the paths when I heard someone trying to attract my attention.  It was a twinkly eyed man, and he was asking if I could use three bags of wood ash.  Well, I wondered if he had been sent as a gift from the devic realms, as wood ash, and plenty of it, was exactly what I needed in the area I was currently developing.  In fact, I could hear the apple trees and strawberries clamouring for attention in the long allotment as well.  It was like they were baby birds with open mouths. 

So, in as restrained a fashion as I could muster, I said 'Yes please, that would be very kind of you'.  Then he said' 'right, I'll be back shortly', and off he went.  I did wonder if I'd been working too hard, and was hallucinating, but no, in a few minutes he was there with his truck, loading it off. 

Three Huge Bags.  It was like Yule had come early.  I thought really I should do the public spirited thing and let other people in the allotments know, but I so badly needed this ash, so I'm sorry to say personal interest was the more powerful motivating force.  I kept saying to myself,  'I'll let them know when I've applied what I need'.  The trouble was, it turned out I needed all of it.  The new fruit area got a liberal dowsing, so did the new strawberry beds, then the strawberry bed in the long allotment, the apple trees, the blackberries and the daffodils all along the borders of both plots, plus the little plum tree.  I forgot the rose, but there is just enough left to treat that as well. 

So thank you kindly man/sprite/pixie or whatever you are, and thank you on behalf of my fruiting plants as well. 

Cycle of life

The beautiful tree I could see from my window is in the process of being cut down.  Why people cut down trees in the Spring, when their sap is rising strongly and in tree terms will feel the most pain is totally beyond my understanding.  It had the most elegant canopy of bright lime leaves, which I had to watch fall to the ground, and go through a chipper.  I have sung a song for this tree, because it is all that I can do to say thank you and goodbye. 

Yesterday I made a lot of progress in the small allotment, and used a good deal of chippings from other trees I never knew.   It reminds me of how minced meat makes you unlikely to think of the cow it once was, and how they died.  However, this view from my window has reminded me. 

I don't think Brian would ever cut down such a beautiful tree though, he generally just trims them, and hedges. 

Anyway, my small allotment really does look like I've staked my claim on it now.  I lined the paths with black plastic first.  I'm in two minds about this.  I've noticed how couch grass is coming through on the strawberry bed paths in the long allotment, which I haven't lined, and want to avoid weeding as much as possible.  However, I'm not sure how much the plastic leeches chemicals into the soil, and I'm aware that it does degrade over time, so in the end I will have to replace it. 

Another way to make a lining for paths is with newspaper, and I suppose cardboard.  That too will degrade, but is a more eco friendly option.  I might experiment with this method in the strawberry bed. 

The full method is to add layers - of newspaper, sand, and then straw.  I suspect this arrangement would be a wonderful haven for mice. Black plastic is a haven for toads and slow worms, so maybe it redeems itself that way. 

Another redeeming feature is that it prevents poisons damaging to the environment and humans being absorbed into the soil.  I had noticed with some alarm that my neighbours had applied  Roundup to the weeds at the base of the chicken wire fence that marks the boundary between their plot and mine.  There is no way I want Roundup anywhere near my soil, and it had ingressed through to my side. 

The black plastic makes an ideal barrier.  I've put it all along that boundary, and put a thick layer of chippings over the top of it. 

Ruby Sparkler

 

Today I tasted the first radish of the season.  I am rather successful at growing radishes in my long plot.  I sowed the seed early, so covered it with a fleece cloche to protect it from frost.  It has been a bit difficult to keep it weeded and watered under there, but the seedlings developed well, and a few days ago I noticed the glow of ruby red appearing from the earth at the base of some of the plants, telling me that it was almost time to harvest some of them. 

Radishes grow so quickly once the roots start to ripen that it's best to check them every day so they don't become woody and inedible.  The one I tried today was perfectly ripe, and had a good peppery kick.  The variety I sow is Sparkler, because I love how the name exactly describes its taste. 

I spend such a lot of time maintaining the land on my plots, that I forget that the result of my work will be food to eat, so today it felt like a bonus that I could actually feed myself as well as admire the beauty of what I am creating. 

Field of dreams

I plan to create a miniature lavender field in my long plot.  I am using Folgate and Maillette, varieties which produce an oil which is the soft, sweet subtle fragrance suited for use in cooking and luxury perfumery, as well as high grade essential oil.   Maillette is the variety grown in the lavender fields in Provence, and Folgate has been grown in this country for many years. 

I want to use the flowers in biscuits, soap making, and also in lavender bags.  I will also use it to make lavender dollies, which are the same as corn dollies, only done with lavender.  They are much simpler smaller creations however, as it's not possible to join the stems together.

I would love one day to distill the essential oil.  I think I'll start by trying to make a hydrosol, which is a simple distillation method resulting in a fragranced water. 

I am planting them in alternate rows, so I will have two shades of violet blue acting as foils for each other. 

I started this bed last year.  I was able to source the Folgate relatively easily, but the Maillette was really difficult to track down, and in the end I gave up and resorted to Hidcote for the other rows.  I'd run out of money, and bought some 'mishapes', which were rather more misshapen than I expected.  I planted them nevertheless, and most of them survived the winter, but they really don't look like very happy.

This spring I had another attempt at searching for Maillette, and found some rather miraculously on ebay.  I bought three plants, and they are very healthy, though small.  I'm growing them on in the greenhouse, where they will be safe from creatures and my feet. 

Today I lifted the struggling Hidcote and put them in pots.  I am making a lavender hedge all around the Herbarium in the small allotment, as a protective and decorative barrier .  Animals are deterred by lavender, as they don't like the taste of the essential oil in the leaves.  I have already completed two sides, and there are exactly the right number of these Hidcote misshapes to make a third side, so when I have pruned them back  to a single stem to make them bush out into a good strong form I will plant them there. 

I also removed all the flints from the lavender field area.  Flints are always appearing in beds whenever there is rain, and I am always removing them.  I had read that it is traditional in France to surround lavender plants with stones to increase the heat and light around the plants, thereby increasing the quantity of oil.  I know this is also something that is done in vineyards to increase the sweetness of the grapes.  I thought it would be a good way to use the flints.  However, it made weeding the bed very awkward, and it was unpleasant and quite treacherous treading on the uneven stony ground of the bed while I was caring for the plants. 

It was such a good feeling to rake off all those annoying sharp stones today.  There were mounds of them, and they were a heavy load in the barrow.  I've made a pile of them by the shed, as I think the best way to use flints is as a hardcore base for a shed, should I ever be in a position to buy a new one.

I think I'll just put chipping paths between the plants for now, and maybe in the end surround them with gravel.  As I passed the pile of chippings today on my way home I noticed how much it had decreased in size, so I think path creation is my next job.   

Four of wands

My asparagus plants have not had an easy life.  I discovered them by accident when I first took over the long plot while I was digging over a bed that had been neglected so badly that it had reverted to grass.  I saw the roots hanging from a clod of earth, and then looked carefully for others.  I found six in the end, and made a new bed for them in the proper manner, layering newspaper underneath the mounded earth, and layering the roots over that, with further earth covering them.  It seems an odd practice to me, as if the roots are arranged on raised earth it means they like being well drained, so why have a newspaper layer as you would for runner beans, which need a lot of moisture?

The plants seemed reasonably content, although one failed to thrive.  However, they were always getting accidentally decapitated by the strimmer, and the spears were very thin.  I did manage to harvest one, and it was a gorgeous taste, like fresh peas. 

When I took the small allotment under my wing, I decided to put all the perennials there, so made a new bed in it for the asparagus.  They settled in well, but unfortunately they suffered when I neglected the beds last year, and when I decided to dedicate the area they were in to strawberries to simplify maintenance, I once again put them through the upheaval of a move.  I retuned them to their original home in the long allotment, but this time near the calming presence of the apple trees. 

I didn't bother to make a traditional bed for them, and just placed them in the ground with a bit of fertilizer.  They really thanked me for it, and this year for the first time they are producing spears that are thick enough to harvest. 

Yesterday I was able to crop four, and everyone had a share.  My Mum has never understood why people rave about asparagus, saying it has no taste, but had no problem savoring this home grown version.  I was hoping she wouldn't like it so I could have hers, but no such luck. 

The heart of life

My greenhouse has been going through a time of transition lately.  It bravely held onto its remaining panes of glass this winter, mainly because the wind couldn't get trapped, thanks to the hole it had ripped through the structure last year.  The wind got trapped before because it had ingressed through a gap in the door, and the roof window wasn't open. 

I discovered that the reason the door was fitting poorly was that the rills on which it runs were clogged with grime.  I cleared them out and applied oil, and it's running smoothly with no gapping now. 

However, I am still without eleven panes of glass.  I found some spares for free on Gumtree, and finally got round to measuring up for them to be cut to size.  I took them round to the glass cutter with neat little labels on each pane saying what the measurements needed to be.  When it came to fitting the cut panes however, they were all too big, and one was bizarrely misshapen.  It turns out the panes are a non-standard 25 inches square, so I've got to go through the whole process again. 

Even if it is a little lacking in glazing, the greenhouse is functioning well.  I've installed two new shelving units, which are a little wobbly but aren't likely to fall flat on their sides like the contraption that was there previously.  They have given me much needed extra space for all my seedlings, and it looks rather jolly in there with the new bright orange and blue propagators. 

The greenhouse also has a new potting table, which I got for free from some lovely Polish house clearance people.  They were clearing the house of an old lady who had lived up the road for many years.  She was a kindly interesting lady, who had a fascinating collection of murano glass paperweights, and a pretty garden which she opened to the village once, so I was able to have a look round. 

I saw the table in their van, and by the time I'd plucked up courage to ask about it, they had moved it to the back under a pile of other things, so it was difficult for the man to extract.  It was so kind of him, and he wouldn't take any money for it.  It is so light that I could just balance it on my head and walk up to the allotments with it.  It looks mid century in style, with an elegant metal frame and a wooden slatted top.  The wood has a satisfying silken texture.  It is just the right size for potting things, without taking up too much space.

I am so glad I have something that was once owned by that lady, as she was a good soul.  I wish I had known her better. 

Herbarium

It is remarkable how much of the design of my plots is similar to that of medieval gardens.  A major project during the early spring has been to restructure the main plot in the small allotment.  I am giving up on the idea of it being a field of mixed grain, as it just became a playground for mice when I tried to make it real.  I have reinstated the four beds within a square, which turns out to be a very medieval form.  This time I am wiser, and have totally avoided any type of grass, and instead have made use of the chippings to make crunchy honey beige slug barriers. 

I haven't put a black plastic lining under these chippings, mainly because I didn't have time.  It will be interesting to see if it makes a difference to weed regrowth. 

My Dad massively over ordered seed potatoes by mistake, so it was lucky I had these beds to plant them in.  They've taken up half the area, which still leaves two beds for me to begin to fill with perennial herbs.

I plan to dedicate one bed to herbs for dying.  I have woad seedlings maturing well in my greenhouse.  However, I am finding it very hard to germinate madder.  Perhaps it's because the seed is a couple of years old.  I tried soaking the last batch in warm water, then exposing to cold, as I had read that this helps.  However, no sign of life yet, and it's nearly two weeks since I sowed the seed. 

I also have weld, dyer's greenweed and alkanet seed, which I hope to sow soon.  None of the indigo germinated, so I'll have to try again with that. 

I want to experiment with dying cloth, yarn, soap, candles and paper.  It may be too ambitious to dye candles, as when I experimented with beetroot juice it became clear that the powder must be very fine indeed, otherwise it inhibits the burn. 

Some of the perennials that I intend to plant there are presently in the long allotment, where I moved them to in the autumn so I could prepare the beds they were in for strawberries.  There is no way I am going to traumatise the poor things again by attempting to move them while they are growing, so I'll wait until next autumn. 

Seed swap greed

I had some garlic bulbs left over, so decided to take them to the village seed swap meeting.  The owner of the shop where I had been given them for free was there, so I was able to thank him in person. 

It was my first time at the seed swap, and it was such an enjoyable and interesting event.  It was so good to talk to other people with the same enthusiasms as myself, and swap experiences and information with them.  It made me realise how much I love gardening. 

I tried to rein in my greed at this seed swap, as I have a tendency to get covetous over seeds and I already had far too many in my seed box.  However, I came away with a whole bundle of packets, and I am already regretting it. I just don't have time to sow that many seeds!

I now have two interesting varieties of tomatoes - chocolate stripe and peacevine cherry.  The chocolate stripe is supposed to be very flavoursome, and the peacevine cherry is supposed to make you very relaxed after you eat it.  They germinated very well, and now I just have to find room in my greenhouse to grow them on.

I also got Echinacea, poppies, scabious and honesty.  They will all be very useful to attract pollinators in my wildflower borders. 

The packets of beans may have to wait until next year though.  I have Korean climbing French bean, Jialimo, and Cherokee trail of tears.  I think I'll have to harvest some more bamboo for frames. 

The trouble with garlic

is that it seems to require a lot of food and water.

I had hoped that I would have better luck with my garlic this year, after giving the beds I am growing it in a healthy layer of compost. 

It soon became apparent once the growing season truly began however that it wasn't nearly enough.  The leaves quickly began to yellow, in particular the leaves of the organic standard garlic,which was very disappointing. 

I'd had one failure already this season with this garlic.  The cloves I bought from a local hardware store did look suspiciously dry and shriveled when I planted them, and sure enough not one sprouted.  I'd given up on having a garlic crop for this year, but then I saw garlic bulbs that had sprouted in the local organic food shop, and they were giving them away.  I couldn't believe my luck.  They were such healthy looking specimens, and it was still early enough for them to get cold enough for the bulbs to split into cloves. 

They were spouting well until the dry spell recently.  I think I am severely underestimating just how much water they need.  I've planted them in the bed that is directly over the roots of the ash tree, and I suspect that is the problem.   

The elephant garlic in the bed further along the plot has yellowed slightly, but not as much as the other garlic, and the onions in that bed are lush and green.

The broad beans in the same bed under the ash tree are suffering with yellow leaves as well.  I love the ash tree, as it provides protection for me and my shed, and I am unable to remove it even if I wanted to, as it isn't on my land.  I shall have to work round the problem and plant things in that bed that don't suffer so much in dry weather.
 

No fixed abode

My shack is more a shelter for wildlife than for me now, as it is in such a dilapidated state.  There is a large hole in the side where they can easily crawl in, and many other little gaps higher up.

One day I looked down by chance and saw the most intricate nest on the floor, resting on a plastic bag.  It fascinates me how bird's nests are really works of natural art.  This one had a luxurious interweaving of green moss.  I was concerned that it was an entirely inappropriate place for a nest, right next to the hole in the shed, where there would be cold draughts and making it an easy target for predators. 

However it's my policy never to interfere with the affairs of wildlife, after becoming hopelessly entangled when I attempted to save the life of an unfledged baby bird who had fallen out of a nest when I was a teenager.  First of all I put it in a basket in the tree it had fallen from, as I couldn't see the nest.  Then I thought it might have a better chance of survival if I tried to look after it myself, and made it a refuge with water and worms, but it was clearly unhappy.  I returned it to the tree, full of regret that I had done no good, and had just given the poor creature more anxiety. 

I left it alone for a few weeks, and it became clear that it was abandoned, as it was slowly degrading.  I gave it to the compost heap to be recycled. 

However, recently I was sitting in the chair in the shack and noticed another nest, in the lintel above the door, where the wren used to make her roosting pocket.  It seemed rather too large for a wren, and may be the blue tits, as they made a nest in the nesting box I used to have outside the shack.  I removed it when it was attacked by a raven or a magpie just as the chicks were fledging.  I hope some of them survived. 

This lintel nest is very much of the same design as the one I found on the floor, which makes me think that it had been dislodged during high winds, as they make the shack loll from side to side like it's boogying to the cosmic rhythm.

I don't like to go into the shack too much now, in case I disturb new life. 

Hortus conclusus

I'm reading Medieval Gardens by John Harvey at the moment.  There is so much useful information packed into his book that it's taking me ages to get through it, and I've already had to renew it three times. 

It's my aim to incorporate many of the plants and methods used by medieval people in my allotment.  This is because I have a fascination with that time period, and the methods given for controlling weeds and vermin are natural and harmless.  I feel a strong desire to bring the old methods back to life. 

I am discovering from reading the book that I have already introduced many of the medieval plants, and many of the others I have on my list to be planted.  I intend to introduce plants for dying of cloth, and medicinal plants.  I would also like to experiment with turf seats planted with strawberries and with a trellis backing tied with roses.  Eventually I would like to introduce wattle raised beds.  It's all a lot of work though, and I don't know when I will find the time to do it all. 

I am already starting to replace the lawn with plants that will give the green covering, but won't require as much mowing.  In the seating area I have planted chamomile, violets, strawberries and creeping thyme.  In the other areas I am introducing oregano and daisies.  I also plan to sow pennyroyal and more creeping thyme. 

The lawn is quite a problem.  I don't really like to rely on powered machinery, but the lawn requires it, fortnightly in the growing season.  The lithium battery in the strimmer soon gave up, and now the only thing that can tackle it effectively is Jenny, my trusty Atco mower.  She did live in the shed until there was a break in elsewhere on the allotments.  It was much easier to have her installed in situ, but I daren't risk it, so I have to bring the mower down in my car and use a ramp to get it in and out.  It's not ideal.  Hopefully the medieval style lawn will be the answer.

Thank you Geoff ...

... for keeping vermin away from my vegetables.

I have a soft spot for Geoff Hamilton.  I used to love watching Gardener's World when he presented it.  He was down to earth, but at the same time had a sensitive spiritual perspective.  Also, he had some brilliant ideas.

One of them was the use of plumbing tubing as netting supports.  Last year my onions, garlic, and broad beans all knew the dark depths of the local wildlife's innards.  This year they're out of luck, as Geoff's noble Romanesque arches protect my plants in a plastic embrace. 

My first attempts would not stay upright though, but my Dad told me that Geoff reinforced the supports by inserting bamboo cane into the ground, and then threaded the tubing over it.  I tried this today, and it worked like magic. 

I needed another net to protect the carrot seedlings.  I'd given up on them, as there was no sign of germination a fortnight after sowing, but then all of a sudden there were little green rows of tiny leaves.  They were unprotected for several days until I had the opportunity to erect the net, but they were totally unmolested, which makes me wonder if the wood chippings do act as slug deterrant.  I see they have sliced into the newly planted lily of the valley, which is surrounded by nothing but grass. 

I have read that leeks deter carrot root fly, so I've alternated the rows of carrots with rows of leeks, with leeks on the outside.  Apparently the smell of the leeks masks the smell of the carrots.  We shall see.  I might lose my nerve and put a wall of enviromesh up just to be on the safe side. 

It was really quite a worrying procedure creating holes for the leeks around the tiny delicate carrot seedlings.  I might just plant in blocks next year, and hope for the best.

florabundance

A couple of years ago I was tempted by the huge basket of cut price seed packets on sale in the local hardware shop.  This year I was determined to sow them, as they had all gone past their sow by date.  There will normally still be some germination after the sow by date, but I couldn't really leave it any longer. 

I originally planted a range of perennial herbs around the allotment borders, but the grass smothered them and not a lot remains.  I now have a plan of having wildflower borders all around both plots, to encourage butterflies and bees.  They will hopefully come up every year once established. 

I mixed up the seeds in the seed packets and cast them over the freshly dug soil in the borders.  It promises to be a colourful display - several varieties of poppies, cornflowers, Echinacea, honesty, scabious, nasturtium, marigold, borage, evening primrose, and many other things I have now forgotten. I do wonder how many plants will actually appear, as it has been very dry since I sowed them, and I haven't had time to water them.  I covered them with soil though, so hopefully they will be protected from birds.  If it flowers well, it will look very much like a rainbow all around my land.

I am glad to see white honesty has appeared this year under the ash tree.  I tried a couple of times to germinate seeds there, and it looks like I've finally been successful. 

killing the god

I was severely traumatised during the removal of the compost from the strawberry area.  As I drew out my fork, I found I had impaled a toad on one of the prongs.  The poor thing was still alive.  It was horribly distressing.  The last thing I want to be is a toad murderer, as they are so useful for keeping the slug population under control.  Also I consider them to be personally sacred, as the frog is one of the animals on my medicine wheel, and they are related species. 

I had to steel myself, and with a gloved hand I gently removed the poor creature from the jaws of doom.  I chose a dignified resting place, by the entrance to the small plot next to a cyclamen in bloom.   It reminded me of how ancient people used to sacrifice creatures, and sometimes humans, and bury them at the threshold for psychic protection.  Their spirit would always be there in the astral world, guarding the doorway. 

I expected the body of the toad to be consumed in the night, but the next day it was still there, and continued to remain there for as long as it took for its body to be reclaimed by the earth. 

Strawberry fields

A major task this spring has been the transplanting of the strawberries.  First of all I had to remove all the compost I had squirrelled away and covered with sheeting in the area where the strawberries were to be transplanted. 

This was simple enough, as the green manure had been very disappointing this year, so I just covered it with the compost.  I think I had sowed it too late, so there wasn't enough light to help it get established before the winter set in.  Also I think it may have been the combination of varieties.  I used a grazing rye and mustard mix, where before I have used phaecelia.  I'm going to return to phaecelia again next year, as it created a good dense growth, and I'm sure I sowed it at more or less the same time. 

Next I had to gradually remove the black plastic and mark out and weed the beds.  I had woefully neglected the poor strawberries last year, so it was a difficult job to spot them amongst all the weeds, and then lift and separate them, making sure there was no couch grass root woven through their roots. 

I have plans to sow tagetes amongst the strawberries in order to deter the spread of couch grass.  Apparently their roots give off a chemical that is allopathic to couch grass.  However, I've got to make sure it isn't generally allopathic first, as it was just too much work to transplant those strawberries.  I don't want to watch them gradually die and be replaced by marigolds. 

I now have three neat beds of cleaned and watered strawberry plants.  I wonder how long they will stay that way.  It has been so hot lately that it was really not the best time to transplant them, but I couldn't leave it any later, as they were in danger of being totally suffocated by weeds. 

I discovered a geranium pretense growing amongst them, and can't imagine where it came from.  I've moved it to the boundary of my plots, which are going to be entirely populated by wildflowers. 

I have now smothered their old beds, which are now mainly beds of weeds, with black plastic.  In a month or so the area will be ready for its new life as a fruit bed.  Ultimately I plan to make a cage out of living willow and rubble netting. 

Maris Widgeon in captivity

I had some success germinating the trial sowing of Maris Widgeon grain that I made after the total failure of the crop in the field.  It was safely stored in my Dad's greenhouse, away from mice but cold enough to be encouraged to sprout.  It became a healthy tray of lush green, but when it started to yellow I knew it was time to put it in the ground. 

I had just the right sized gap under one of the net archways.  As I released the wheat from the tray I discovered that the roots had been so impeded by the newspaper lining that they were heavily entangled, and that's why the wheat was yellowing.  I transferred it to the bed without splitting it because I was a bit concerned about disturbing the roots.  It soon greened up, but I know I need to replant it with more space between the plants.  It's the next job on my list.  It seems I am being encouraged to prove my determination to be the guardian of this wheat.  I am starting with a tiny fairy size crop, but next year I hope it will be a whole bed instead of a small slice of one.  I've learnt my lesson though - I will have to grow it in netted beds.  The romantic dream of a field waving in the breeze and dotted with wild flowers seems very much a dream at present. 

Time's winged chariot

Oh dear.  I've been so busy trying to keep the allotment reined in that I haven't been updating this blog as much as I would like.  There is such a lot to say!

The chippings have really helped me define the beds and keep the weeds down.  I've covered the paths with them and weighed down the sides of the netting.  I suspect the rough dry texture repels slugs, as they haven't been so much of a problem this year.  I thought they would crawl under the netting, but they haven't.  There was some initial baby slug activity on the broad beans, but organic pellets were the answer. 

I like the look of these paths as well.  Medieval gardeners made paths of sand in their gardens and around their vegetable beds, and the colour and function of my chipping paths is similar.

I'd like to experiment with beer traps, which would be fenced off from hedgehogs under the netting.  I haven't wanted to risk drowning baby hedgehogs. 

I now have carrots, broad beans, parsnips, radish, leeks and potatoes flourishing in the long allotment.  I thought I'd lost the parsnips seeds in a heavy period of rain, but was most surprised today to see tiny seedlings.  I'd given up, and was hoeing the area in preparation to try again, so I may have destroyed some of them by accident.  Sometimes I think it must be quite amusing to the birds when I am working on the land, as one minute I am groaning ruefully over some mistake I have made, and the next I am exclaiming in surprise at some miraculous survival. 

Ariadne

I have been on a bit of a journey with my nets lately.  I'm experimenting with rubble netting, which you can buy very inexpensively from ebay or builder's yards.  It doesn't significantly cut out the light, but the mesh is small enough to prevent ingress by small insects and slugs.  It will also prevent the sycamore seedlings from falling into the earth. 

For plants that need pollination by insects you need to take the net off when the plants begin to flower, or replace with bird netting.  I intend to replace with bird netting, as knowing my luck the minute I expose my precious plants they will be devoured by all the wildlife in the vicinity. 

I bought two metre wide netting, but discovered the hard way it wasn't wide enough for the hoops of plastic tubing I have created.  I love the effect these hoops give of gentle undulation across my plot.  My Dad tells me it was a method first introduced by the late great Geoff Hamilton, bless his heart.  Eventually I plan to create my own hoops out of willow, but that is for another post. 

I fought with the net and pinned it down against its will, only to find the tension created little arch shaped gaps of the perfect size for rabbits to hop through.  I weighed the sides down with compost, but knew I had to buy wider net long term for the plants that need a good height undercover. 

I now have 3 metre wide netting, which is the perfect width, leaving enough net at the sides to form a barrier.  I have experimented by weighing the sides down with pine chippings.  I don't know if this will encourage mice to borrow in, and then burrow further under the net.  Time will tell. 

The pine chippings have a smell which will cover up the smell of tasty vegetables, so I'm hoping they will act as a deterant.  Apparantly deer are repelled by the essential oils in plants like lavender, so perhaps the pine oil will do the same thing.  I realized when I applied the chippings how well they would work as coverings for the pathways, so that will be my next job.

I spent a happy morning planting out my broad beans, secure in the knowledge that they would be well protected.  I have already placed stakes next to each plant, so they can be tied for support when they get tall enough. 

Darkness is food for light

I often find that once I accept that something has failed, I am filled with new inspiration about what I can do instead.  This was the case with the Maris Widgeon disaster.  I wonder now if mice were the culprits.  I discovered that heavy rain had dislodged the grains in my test sowing in the garden at home, so they were exposed.  It would be easy for mice to quickly polish them off, and be encouraged to dig for others under the soil. 

I've now placed the tray in the greenhouse for extra protection, as it's still cold enough in there.  I am determined to grow this wheat.  I feel a kind of responsibility, as it is becoming rare, and is a traditional variety that deserves to survive. 

So now I have a large area of soil with nothing growing in it.  What an excellent opportunity to have a massive bonfire.  Nothing better to cleanse the space, which still has an unsettling, spirit dulling quality about it. 

It may simply be to do with the shadow cast by my small shed, now reinforced by the large shed behind it in the neighbour's plot.  In terms of Feng Shui, these structures are blocking the flow of energy.  I would reposition my shed, but it wouldn't remedy anything now the other shed is behind it, blocking the light from the south.  It is not something I have the power to change, so I have to work around it, and do as much space clearing as I can. 

There are some branches that need to come off the aspen neighbouring my long allotment.  It is a beautiful tree, and I feel is a kind of guardian for me and my land, but it is leaning too far into the plot, so it is shading the areas where I grow things.  It always amazes me how massive branches are when they are on the ground, compared to how they looked when up on the tree.  The would-be wheat field will be the ideal place to burn what I don't repurpose from this trimming, plus a lot of the old wood I still have in my shack. 

In fact, the whole shack needs burning to be very brutal.  It is appropriate to be so at this time, when new life is forcing its way through the old.  It is rotting and gradually more and more of it is falling off.  It still has its quiet protective spirit though, so I can't really bear to part with it.  Maybe I'll just adopt a Japanese perspective.  When they build a new building to replace an old one, and that building is exactly the same, they do not consider it to be a new building at all. 

The failure of the wheat also means I now have an opportunity to experiment with other spring sown grains.  I am interested in growing quinoa and amaranth, and there is spring triticale and rye if I can organize sourcing it in time.  I won't cover any of the area in black plastic that's for sure, but if necessary will use Phaecelia as green manure.  It is such a pretty blue flower, and forms a dense cover very quickly. 

Catch me in your net

After what seems like a long time of hiding away from the cold and mud, I feel I have reconnected with my plots again today.  It was sunny for most of the day, and even though it was cold and windy I was inspired to move things forwards on my land. 

I have been battling all winter with my  new netting arrangements.  I have in the past made arcs of plastic hose and draped the net over it.  This was very pleasing to the eye, as it created gentle undulating curves, however it seemed not very practical for tall plants, as the sloping sides crushed them together. 

I decided on a new arrangement, which was to make a 1 metre high fence all around each bed, secured by bamboo canes and rubber cane toppers.  I  bought some two metre wide rubble netting, which was the perfect width for the curved net arrangement.  However, I threw caution to the wind and cut it in half width wise, and created the fence.   It was easier to tend the beds, as they were open at the top this way, but there was nothing to prevent the sycamore seedlings covering the soil. 

The first reasonably strong wind made me see the true error of my ways, as it set up a ripple effect in the netting, so the canes were pushed over and the toppers were forced off.  I tried various ways of supporting the canes with bricks, but nothing worked.  I'm sure I'll be finding lost cane toppers in the grass for the next year or so. 

Today I had to face two hard facts.  The first was that my wheat crop had definitely failed, and the second was I had to put the rippling netting out of its misery. 

It was with a happy heart that I took all the nets down and made some arcs of plastic hose again.  They looked so much more sturdy, and were not at all affected by the wind.  I was full of remorse over cutting the netting, and it was a tedious job sewing the two widths back together again with string.  I roughly pinned it over the arc supports and immediately realized that they would have to be hammered down a bit, and I would have to replace the string with machine sewn seams, as the whole creation looked like some kind of monstrous poorly fitting corset. 

I wondered how the crops would like it under those protective arches, and realized that perhaps the sloping sides would give added support to things like broad beans. 

I came back home and found this image on my Twitter, courtesy of @DamienKempf:

It is a medieval illumination depicting a woman catching her lover.  It reminded me of the process I had gone through today, and made me wonder what I will find in my vegetable beds as a result of it!

the fragrance of green, the colour of song

I imagined I could smell chlorophyll this morning.  It was rather surprising, as I was inside at the time.  Well, Imbolc has passed, and there are emerald and carmine buds swelling on the old grey brown growth of last year. 

The phantom fragrance momentarily brought me to a season of colour, purity and optimisim, and in that moment I became what I could sense.  It was like a tiny little holiday.   I'm finding the winter particularly long and heavy this year.  I am keeping positive by making candles and nurturing seedlings, as if I am tending the first little sparks of the year, encouraging them to burst into flame. 

Some like it hot..

..but kombucha scoby likes it just above room temperature.

I think I killed it by putting it on the heat mat.  I'll just keep it on the table top near the mat from now on.  In the end I'll make a fleece jacket for it, as the hat was letting in a bit too much light.  For now it just has a blanket though.

On a happier note, I discovered the heat mat is the perfect temperature for proving bread dough.

Not just for lizards!

My new heat mat is a real success!  It is designed for reptiles, but the one I bought will fit perfectly under two full size seed trays.  It gets wonderfully warm, just right for germinating chillis.  I've put a piece of cardboard under it to protect the table, and will experiment with coverings for the top when I need to vary the amount of heat coming through. 

Under the bear hat is some kombucha scoby, which needs warm dark conditions to develop successfully.  I knew it was only a matter of time before it was discovered in the airing cupboard, especially as it was beginning to smell gorgeously yeasty in there, just like freshly baked bread.  I think it will do much better protected by a bear anyway. 

Kombucha is a health drink that is very good for the immune system, and for detoxing the body.  Here is a really good guide to making your own:

http://www.paprikahead.com/2009/07/how-to-brew-your-own-kombucha-from.html

Fungus gnats!

I love the internet.  I googled 'tiny hopping black fly', and within a few seconds had found its true name.  My uninvited guests are fungus gnats.  I can imagine this is what the lady in the Rumplestiltskin fairy tale felt like after she'd discovered him shouting his name in the woods. 

They aren't actually directly harmful to the plant, they just infest the earth with their eggs.  I like to give my plants a clean living environment, and egg infested earth doesn't sound like it will benefit the healthy growth vibe in my happy orange propagator, so I'm glad I've got the cayenne spray. 

Here's the useful article I found about fungus gnats:

http://whatdoino-steve.blogspot.co.uk/2009/11/tiny-black-bugs-fruit-flies-or-fungus.html

Uninvited guests

The chilli seedlings are now having to contend with tiny black hopping flies.  I don't know what species they are, but they look like they might be sap suckers.  The sight of them sent me into a panic, and I am sorry to say I reached for the 'Ultimate Bug Killer'.  It doesn't say what's in the bottle, so I presume it's not organic.  I felt very ashamed afterwards, like I had fallen off the wagon, but it was a gut instinct.  I'd just put those seedlings into a lovely orange protected environment, after their drought ordeal, and now this. 

Burdened with guilt, I searched online for an organic insecticide and found an interesting recipe:

1 bulb of garlic
1 small onion
1 tbsp. (14.8 ml) of red cayenne pepper
30ml liquid soap 
1 litre water

Mince the onion and garlic and mix with the water.
Add the cayenne pepper and allow the solution to sit for 1 hour.
Add the soap and mix the solution well.
When the suds subside strain the solution into a spray bottle. Refrigerate the solution with the spices for up to 2 weeks

It is a wonderful burnt orange colour, and looks and smells like it means business. 

Wyrd byth ful araed

Or, to translate very loosely from the Anglo Saxon, you can't argue with fate. 

I think I have to face the fact that my Maris Widgeon wheat is not germinating.  I have no idea what happened to it.  It didn't even sprout as far as I am aware.  There is the odd little thread of green sticking up here and there in my 'field', but not the healthy emerald mat that my friend Brian has in his plot.  He grows Triticale for his chickens.  It is a similar long stemmed wheat, which I may have to resort to if my crop has failed. 

I particularly wanted to grow Maris Widgeon as it is the wheat traditionally used in corn dolly making, which is what I intend to do with it.  I'm not giving up though. Nature has thrown down the gauntlet, and I will take up the challenge.  I kept some grain back, aware of the likelihood of failure from last year's experience, and have now sown a small deep tray of grain which I will nurture in very controlled conditions in my garden. 

 

I considered stratifying the grain, in other words creating winter conditions for it, and thereby inducing the embryo to sprout.  It should be cold enough outside anyway though, but I don't know if the period of cold left before things warm up for the spring will be long enough now.  Sometimes nature totally bewilders me.  Wish me luck!

There is a really good guide to stratification here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stratification_(botany)

Raising the dead

Oh dear.  I went on a skiing holiday, only to find the mountains were suffering from climate change, and there was no snow.  When I returned, I discovered that my chilli seedlings had been trying desperately to survive through their own little climate change that I had thoughtlessly created for them in the heated propagator.

I had been in two minds about what to do - I could leave the lids off so they wouldn't succumb to damping off but might perish from drought, or I could keep the lids propped up, and risk creating ideal conditions for the damping off fungus to develop.  I decided to take off the lids, as it was so cold and damp outside I didn't think they would dry out. 

It was a game of chance, and unfortunately Lady Luck was not with me.  She was probably skiing somewhere exclusive and high altitude like Meribel, where there was plenty of snow. 

I admire how efficiently those seedlings must have adapted to the dryness, somehow clinging on to the remaining moisture for as long as they could.  It was a sorry sight that greeted me - seedlings draped over the sides of their trays, or prone on the earth, like dying soldiers in the desert.  I think one day later and I wouldn't have been able to revive them.  It was remarkable how quick their recovery was; in a day many that had seemingly expired were literally rising up from the dead as the water once more pumped through their cells.  I've had to resow the chilli willy variety though.

Anyway, it has taught me a lesson.  I've now bought some very glamorous propagators with vents in the lids, and plan to buy a heated mat to put underneath, so I can vary temperature according to their and my needs. 

So here they are in their new home, a little the worse for wear, but surviving nevertheless.

frogpig

I am fascinated by medieval hybrid creatures in illuminated manuscripts.  For example:



Today I'm sure I encountered one in the allotments.  Everywhere was frozen, and there was thick ice on the baths.  As I walked down the avenue leading to my plot I heard the most curious noise, a cross between a grunt and a croaking sound.

It was a wild earthy sound, with a feeling of raw energy about it.  It reminded me of when I encountered a muntjak in the woods whilst resting one day.  He was asserting his claim on the land by stamping his hoof, and it reverberated through the earth.  There was a more generous, almost kindly quality to the frogpig's declaration though.  It was rudely encouraging. 

I couldn't work out where it was coming from, so it seemed to be a rather otherworldly presence, as if created by a creature in the astral realms.  I began to imagine what this creature would look like, and came up with this:

My attempt has made me respect the skill of those medieval illuminators; in particular their ability to draw smooth curves.  Maybe I should try a quill next time. 

A more down to earth explanation of the noise would be that there was water escaping from its icy bonds in the frozen pipes connecting the baths to the pump. 

Life light up

The birds are singing much more confidently today, as if they can sense the worse is over weather wise, at least for the time being.  It is certainly a beautiful sunny day today, and the developing seedlings in the greenhouse are soaking it all up with their new leaves. 

My chilli seedlings are becoming more of a presence in their place on the heated propagator, and the broad beans are pushing their heads through the cold soil in their tray on the greenhouse bench.  It is quite difficult to maintain the right moisture levels at this time when seeds have germinated but are only just developing their seed leaves.  I have given the chilli seedlings partial exposure to the air so they don't suffer from damping off, which is a fungus that kills developing seedlings in a damp environment. 

Now I have to be careful not to let them dry out. With a heated propagator this can happen quite quickly.  I uncovered them for their photo, but normally they have 1/2 sized propagator lids balanced on them.  These particular trays are slightly smaller than 1/4 sized, so there are gaps where they meet the lids.  This allows just enough air in for the stage in their development when they are just unfurling their leaves, and there are still more seeds to germinate.  Another way is to balance the lids on the seed labels one side, which allows a lot more air in.  I think they're about ready for this now.

I'm not too happy with the germination rate of the Ring of Fire and Chilly Willy chillis, but the mystery big red chillis that grew last year from medium sized F1 yellow ones had 100% germination, and the chillis that change from green through black to red have 90%.  I checked to see if some varieties may need constant temperatures of more than 19 degrees, which is what the propagator provides. I found an informative website about growing chillis:  www.thechilliking.com. 

The chilli king says the optimum temperature for germination is 23-30 degrees, ideally the temperature should not fluctuate, and some varieties do need more heat than others.   I think I'll try bringing them into the house next time.

I wonder if my planting them at totally the wrong phase of the moon had anything to do with it.  The best time for anything that is grown for fruit and not root is a couple of days before new moon to a couple of days before full.  I sowed the jalapeno chillis, which you can just see at the edge of the image, at new moon, and they took about seven days to germinate.  At the moment it looks like a 75% germination rate, but it's still possible I might get a couple more coming through.  I want to try more controlled and accurately recorded experiments with moon times to see if the moon does actually affect germination.

Broad beans don't need extra heat to germinate, in fact you can sow them directly outside this time of year, but I like to give mine a bit of protection and a good start in the greenhouse, away from starving vermin.  They look very healthy, although there does seem to be a bit of a brown tinge on the new leaves, so I hope I haven't overwatered them. 

I'm trying to root the carrot tops, so that they will grow good foliage and I can harvest seed from them.  I've placed them on gravel so the underneath, where the roots will sprout, is in contact with water but there is depth and air for the roots to grow. If the plant is just totally submerged in water it is likely to just rot. 

One variety is purple with the colour going quite a way into the core, so it's quite unusual, and the other is a white variety.  The white ones are already growing new green tops, but the place where the green growth will sprout on the purple ones seems to be glowing and pulsing to me, so I'm hopeful they will sprout too.   If it works it will be seed for next year, so I'm ordering some rainbow carrot seed for this year.  I want a real rainbow of growing things in my long allotment, as I feel it does have a rainbow-like quality, as you can see from the blog banner!