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.