Category Archives: Gardening

That old black magic

A very enjoyable afternoon down at the allotment today after missing out last weekend due to gardening duties at home! Hard to know which to favour, but I figure that I see the home garden more (especially from my study window whilst I’m working), so I do like it to look nice.
Last weekend’s job was to distribute the compost around the plants that needed it the most – there’s never enough to go round everything, small garden or not! I have two of those “Dalek” compost bins hidden away behind my garage and work on a rotational basis: one is filled whilst the other rots down for a year, then in early Spring I empty the well-rotted bin and start again. I also have a couple of smaller overflow bins close to the back door (one an old wormery, the other a 50 l plastic container I used to use for recycling before the council decided to collect all our recyclable waste in a separate wheelie bin). It’s quite a trek to the garage on the opposite side of my driveway, so it’s handy to be able to empty the compost into the closer bins on a daily basis, then I tip these into the bigger bins periodically – trying not to leave it too long as they get VERY heavy. Both of them have drainage holes, which helps, and I suppose it serves the additional purpose of rotating the compost when it’s tipped out. It amazes me how much compostable stuff you accrue in the kitchen each day – I have one of those plastic cutlery drainers (without the dividers) in my half-sink, which I means I can empty my teapot (loose-leaf tea) straight into there, and of course all the peelings and vegetable waste, flower stalks, etc. Mine must get emptied at least once a day, more in summer or if I’m making juice. You can get those neat little crock pots with charcoal filters from places like Lakeland, but that wouldn’t be any use for draining tea – and mine is emptied so often that smells aren’t an issue.
In my previous 2-acre garden, I had two massive compost bays each the size of a small car, and the compost was to die for as it had been accumulating for so many years – helped by the vast expanse of lawn to mow with the ride-on mower and resulting grass clippings! My boys were young teenagers at the time and took great pleasure in mowing the lawn (perhaps that’s why they both passed their driving test first time?!) on the tractor mower, with the ability to turn it on a sixpence – unlike their mother…. Needless to say, one of the few things I took with me when leaving that garden was several bags of rich, crumbly compost to start the blank canvas that was to become my current garden.
I have two small compost bays made from pallets down at the allotments, again working on the rotational basis, but now sadly in need of repair as they’ve been there 7 or 8 years. Another plotholder (and fellow dance class attendee!) has kindly let me have a few spare pallets and suggested cable ties to attach them together, rather than nails. That will have to be next weekend’s job now, as it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow, but I look forward to seeing whether that works.
The main beneficiaries of the resulting black magic tend to be any new plants/shrubs and anywhere I’ve created new beds and our sticky Wadhurst clay is still to the fore. You can sometimes see little brandling worms in the compost when you dig it out and I swear you can hear the plants sighing with pleasure as you spread it around. It certainly looks fabulous to see all those new spring shoots surrounded by dark crumbly compost. A very satisfying – if exhausting – task!
It had been my intention to go down to the allotment after finishing mid-afternoon, but an unexpected and nonetheless welcome invitation to afternoon tea put paid to that, so I ended up dashing down in the twilight to harvest some leeks and purple-sprouting broccoli for dinner. One of the things I love most about growing my own is the challenge of returning with delicious produce and deciding what to cook: this was the result last Sunday – so simple, yet absolutely scrumptious. The simplest things often are the best….

Image
Pasta with broccoli and anchovy sauce
Serves 2
6oz pasta – I used linguine, but suit yourself
8oz purple-sprouting broccoli
3 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp sultanas
1 red onion, peeled and sliced
½ tin anchovies, chopped
1oz pine kernels
Salt and black pepper
Parmesan or Pecorino cheese, finely grated to serve

Soak the sultanas in boiling water. Microwave or steam the broccoli for 3-4 mins until tender – if using calabrese rather than the finer purple-sprouting broccoli, you might want to chop this into smaller florets and any thick stems into round chunks first. Drain and set aside.
Cook the onion in the olive oil until soft, add the anchovies, drained sultanas, pine kernels and broccoli, stir gently, then cook gently for about 10 mins to allow the flavours to infuse. Meanwhile cook the pasta as normal, then add to the frying pan, season and serve with the grated cheese.

So flavoursome, yet with such simple ingredients – enjoy!

First steps towards allotment downsizing?

Image

Now that there’s just me at home most of the time, I’ve decided that a full allotment is probably somewhat excessive. Last year I had rhubarb, plums and apples coming out of my ears in the relevant seasons and the time I have available to spend up at the allotments seems to have decreased In inverse proportion to my workload!

With four established apple trees and two plum trees right in the middle of my plot, a logical split halfway isn’t going to work, especially as I have my invaluable shed in amongst the trees, plus the compost heap, a cold frame, and the essential table and chairs for potting out and reviving cups of tea. The only solution, to my mind, is to give up the third at the top of my plot where I have all my fruit bushes. That section was the first bit I cultivated when I took over the plot as it already had established blackcurrant bushes in it, but they have decreased in vigour over the years, plus the whole area is infested with the dreaded couch grass. The bottom section of my plot, on the other hand, has my raised beds and the yields from this area are far superior to the yield from the top area.

So much for the old guard at the allotment who are vehemently anti-raised beds, regarding them as “television gardening”! Relatively new-fangled they may be, but I find it so much more manageable to go up and know I can tackle a couple of beds, rather than the daunting task of where to start in a whole expanse of plot. Then there’s the lack of digging – hurrah! – I’m all for letting the worms do the work – and the irrefutable fact that the yields are excellent. No need to compact the soil between rows as the beds are about 4 feet wide by 10 feet long, so reachable from all sides. I’ve put black weedproof membrane down between the beds and bark chippings on top, so it’s relatively easy to maintain. The idea had been to be able to get a wheelbarrow between the beds, but the chap I hired to install the beds didn’t follow my carefully worked-out plan as accurately as I’d have liked, so it’s a bit of a squeeze in places – but just about accessible nonetheless. They’ve been in situ about 7 years now and I’m going to have to replace some of the boards this year, but am having trouble getting any used boards from my usual supplier. The prolonged wet weather has meant that many of the large projects have had scaffolding out over the winter and it’s still not been returned, so they’ve no new used boards to get rid of yet. I’ll keep trying….

Anyway, back to the downsizing! Rather than do it all in one fell swoop, I’ve decided to gradually transfer some of my rhubarb (early and late varieties), a layer of my Invicta gooseberry and a couple of blackcurrant layers (Ben Sarek) to one of the raised beds this year. My redcurrants, already a second-hand gift from my uncle when I got them, are too large and old to move successfully, so I’ve bought a new redcurrant (Laxton’s) and I intend to move the relatively young whitecurrant bush from the old bed too. That was today’s job; next I hope to dig up some raspberry suckers, the autumn-fruiting Joan J and the summer-fruiting Glen Ample, which had their best-ever year last year, to go in another of the raised beds. Hopefully, by next season, these will all have established and I can relinquish the top third to someone on the waiting list! Watch this space…

In the meantime, the hellebores at home are beautiful this year, and all the daffodils and primroses are filling the garden with the scents of spring. A lovely time to be out and about in the garden…

Image

Image

The start of it all?

At last! Having knocked my perennial borders in the garden at home into shape last weekend, breathing in the deliciously sweetly-scented daphnes (Jacqueline Postill and aureomarginata) as I worked, I finally managed to make it down to the allotment to start my spring clear-up, the traditional start of my allotment year. I suppose it was really a case of cutting down dead foliage from last year: the autumn rains came upon us so fast and persisted so long that I just hadn’t had chance to take down my runner bean and pea supports or finish cutting things back. No matter, now is just as good. And in the case of asparagus and dahlias, I always feel leaving the spent stems in situ over the worst of the winter protects the precious crowns and tubers underneath. The weeds are shooting fast and furious, but the soil was surprisingly crumbly and workable in my raised beds, so weeding was easy and quite pleasurable – especially after weeks of not being able to get out in the garden at all…. The badger-ravaged sweetcorn stems finally came out today too, and all the woody material and pernicious perennial weeds like couch grass, buttercups and dandelions went straight up to the allotment bonfire heap for burning.

I cut back my autumn raspberry canes too (Autumn Bliss and Joan J), a job which should ideally have been done last month, but never happened – too many family birthdays and celebrations on the few sunny days! The early rhubarb is looking very promising, but I think I’ll wait another week before I try my first taste of the year.

My autumn-sown broad beans (Aquadulce Claudia – what else?) are looking good, but I filled in the few gaps there were with a spring-sown variety, De Monica, which extends the season a little, although I never find the later-sown ones do as well as the delicious November-sown crop.

My raised beds have been in situ for 6-7 years now and some of the boards are starting to rot. I definitely need to contact my local scaffolding company and see if I can arrange a delivery of more used boards before the growing season really begins in earnest. Other plotholders have also expressed an interest, so I’m hoping we can combine our orders and save on delivery.

My couple of hours down on the plot flew by – and I still had time for the inevitable and enjoyable chat with fellow allotmenteers: such a sociable pursuit! I had to leave time to walk the dogs before darkness descended, though, so I downed tools, tired but very content, at 5 o’clock and returned home with a highly satisfactory haul of leeks, parsnips, purple-sprouting broccoli and a bunch of daffodils just starting to show their golden yellow.

Time for a cup of tea and a well-deserved piece of tiffin, I think.

Tiffin

1 8oz pack Nice biscuits

4oz butter

1 tbsp caster sugar

2 tbsp cocoa

2oz sultanas

1 tbsp golden syrup

4oz dark chocolate

Melt all ingredients apart from the biscuits and chocolate in a saucepan. Crush the biscuits finely in a polythene bag with a rolling pin and stir into the mixture. Spread into a shallow, 7” square tin (lined with foil for ease) and chill in fridge for a couple of hours. Melt chocolate in a bowl in the microwave at a gentle heat (I do it in short bursts as it burns very easily!). Spread on top of the tiffin and leave to set, then cut into 16 squares. Perfect with a cup of tea after a good day’s work in the garden!

Tiffin

Valentine’s Day Massacre

Image

At last – some sunshine! The perfect day to go out and cut back the late-flowering clematis to twelve inches or so above the ground. My father always maintains this job should be done on Valentine’s Day, so two days later isn’t too bad given the recent appalling weather. These are clematis which flower in the latter half of the summer, so the viticella and texensis types – mine include Etoile Violette, Mme Julia Correvon, Multiblue, Kermesina, Niobe and Black Prince, to name just a few. Prolific, late-flowering blooms, but they need cutting back now so they can put their strength into the roots and produce all that new growth by the end of the summer. There will undoubtedly be new green shoots higher up in the old growth, but just cut low down regardless – they’ll soon take off again!

Don’t whatever you do, get scissor-happy and snip off early-summer flowering clematis, as they flower on the previous year’s growth, or species varieties such as montana, alpina and macropetala which flower in late spring and just need tidying up when they start to get out of hand. I once made the BIG mistake of snipping merrily through the stem of my clematis armandii, that beautifully-scented early spring-flowering evergreen clematis, thinking I was cutting back the Multiblue growing close by. I only realised when the deed was done and lost of all my flowers for that year… No lasting harm done though and the shed it grows up and around is now smothered in clematis – so much so that I probably should cut it hard back after flowering this spring: it’s starting to impede my whirligig washing line and opening the shed door is becoming ever so slightly tricky….

Image

Sheds with bonnets are obviously my weakness: the allotment shed too is wreathed in a lacy topknot of rosy clematis montana, the deep-purple Etoile Violette and a delicate pale pink clematis alpina Willy. It’s certainly a sight to behold in flower; as to whether it played a part in camouflaging the shed in last year’s spate of allotment shed break-ins, I really can’t be sure. There’s certainly nothing of value in my shed (just second-hand tools picked up from the local dump, a little Calor gas stove for those essential cups of tea down on the plot, and all the flotsam and jetsam of netting, fleece and plant labels that goes with vegetable-growing), but it was one of the few that wasn’t broken into, so maybe its living overcoat did help a little….

Here’s hoping that’s just the first of many days out in the garden over the coming year. So much better to feel the sun on your face and your hands in the soil – or on the secateurs at least!