19 Jan 2020

It's that winter/spring thing

Balcony view, white hyacinth flowering


So far this winter I’ve remained cozily optimistic about avoiding frost and freezing temperatures, given the relatively mild weather in North London.  Early yesterday morning though, following a beautifully clear night sky, I could just make out a layer of ice etched into the cars parked below from my second floor windows. It’s the first time temperatures have fallen below 45°F (8°C) and I felt the tug to be outside, looking to see if my nasturtium leaves had caved in to the cold. (They hadn’t.)

Before you ask, no I haven’t discovered a super hardy variety of nasturtium; these are left overs from last summer and usually don’t survive beyond November. I ripped out most of the sprawling trip-hazard plants at the end of autumn but a few fallen seeds had germinated so I left the baby plants for salad leaves until winter got them.  They carried on (rather heroically I thought) and, unrealistically, I was hoping that a mild winter would let these plants live to produce early summer flowers. I think my expectations might be misplaced. Although ....

Nasturtium germinating in January
Newly opened and appreciating this weekend's warm January sunshine

This past week the weather has been rather horrid and a sharp reminder that we’re still not at peak Winter in the UK - dark grey skies, constant drizzle, heavy rain, and buffeting cold winds. (Which makes this weekends sunshine all the more appreciated.)  It was the sort of weather that makes you want to curl up under a cosy blanket with your seed box and dreams rather than be outdoors but, undeterred, I have been checking in on the garden.  There’s not a lot happening in the veg patch, understandably, but what there is seems to be ticking over nicely, waiting for spring.

In autumn last year I sowed a dozen Aquadulce broad bean plants in modules. I wanted to see if overwintering (rather than spring sown) gives an earlier harvest; the small plants were transplanted into the garden in early December and now need tying in to their support stakes. My favourite beans are still Karmazyn (slightly sweeter with pink coats inside green pods) but they won’t be sown until March/April.

Onion sets planted in December have started to sprout, kale (pink veined Red Devil), chamomile and chervil are all looking very healthy, having been planted out as I cleared the veg patch in early winter.  The strawberry runners, not so much; I noticed yesterday that they were looking very sorry for themselves but perhaps they'll perk up with some better weather. 

January nights are punctuated by the mating cries of urban foxes; the flats here are next to a railway line, a lushly overgrown 'green corridor',  making it a perfect spot for fox burrows. Most nights several of them like to check out the home turf, looking for food and fun. I can see that foxes have been in both gardens; yep, the usual calling cards are much in evidence!  So all my precious veg has been protected under rescued wire baskets (often see thrown out on the streets).

Safe to say, the garden is not at its most glamorous but all is not lost.  After pinning my hopes of winter flowers on a solitary snowdrop for the past few weeks, I was thrilled to find the violets in bloom yesterday.  These are self seeded having managed to work their way a good 8 metres up the garden path. Recognising the leaf shape when the seedlings were tiny, I left the plants to develop but will move them, probably into the other garden which is, to its detriment, currently a violet-free zone.



But I can't leave without mentioning my Cavolo Nero plant. I love how nature is a constant cycle of surprises! In 2018 I let the original plant run to seed, mainly because the flowers provide late summer food for bees. By spring of last year, one of those seeds had grown into a tiny plant which I carefully  moved to the other end of the veg patch where it thrived to produce good leaves for eating all year. That plant was huge and healthy so I let that one run to seed as well. After harvesting the seeds, I cut the stalk down to about a metre high, leaving it as there were still a few leaves growing from the base. Those leaves have been providing me with food all winter and the plant is still growing. Now that's what I call excellent value.

My hero Nero

8 Jan 2020

A good day at the library

This wonderful mosaic tiled floor at the entrance to the Lindley Library

A visit to a library is always a good thing.  When that library has shelves dedicated to all things gardening, it becomes a really good thing.  Yesterday I set out for my old stomping ground, Pimlico. I lived and worked there before I had my now adult son and always enjoy a wander down memory lane.  It was a wonderful place to live, just a short walk to the Tate and Hayward galleries, and the National Portrait gallery in Trafalgar Square; even Chelsea was just a quick hop by pedal power. My flat was 5 minutes walk from the Horticultural Halls but I hadn't discovered gardening ... yet. Yesterday’s mission was to return books to the RHS Lindley Library, equidistant between Pimlico and Victoria tubes but I prefer to avoid the hurly burly of Victoria's busy station and streets.

Gardening books on a library shelf
Just for starters ... 

I love gardening and I love books so when my twin passions collide, I’m in heaven. And this library is filled with joy for the gardening bibliophile. Shelves filled with gardening books of every topic, garden mags to read in comfy chairs, desks for quiet research and an archive of precious books, papers, artifacts, prints and manuscripts dating from the 15th century.  Add to that friendly helpful staff, a quiet atmosphere and regular small informative exhibitions - I find I don’t need much of an excuse to pop in when I’m in the area. (The RHS also has libraries which I've yet to visit at their Wisley and Harlow Carr gardens.)

Metal engraved title page of 16th century book: The Herball written by John Gerard.
Title page of John Gerard's 'The Herball', 1597 - predating Culpepper's herbal by 120 years
Metal engraving had replaced woodcut printing, used to beautiful effect here.

My first encounter with the library was the result of a talk offered at one of RHS London shows; those shows were always wonderful and sadly missed.  Shamefully, I can’t remember what that talk was about but can clearly recall the very beautiful old books brought out from the archives for the group to look at. I think the talk may have been to do with early plant use as one of the books was an original Gerard’s Herbal. (1597! That's over four hundred years old and no white gloves were required. Perhaps that was an oversight.) Incredibly, to my mind, the archive is accessible to all by prior appointment which seems very generous.  (Currently Tuesdays and Thursdays due to staffing levels.)

At the time of that talk I thought the library was exclusively for serious writers and researchers but one day, following signs to an exhibition (The Healing Garden, I think) I tentatively went inside and discovered over a warm welcome that the library was open to everyone (not just RHS members, although I am) and that I could join and take books home. That made my day I can tell you and has helped my book buying budget no end. I always check the online library catalogue now before buying a gardening book.

Dig for Victory leaflets from Second World War
Making the most of a small plot? I could do with that today! 

I've been to several of the mini-exhibitions since - Dig for Victory last October was memorable with artefacts and photos illustrating the social history behind Britain's wartime food growing, supported by the government and the RHS. On show were maps and cloth bags used to send seeds over to prisoner camps, leaflets on success with veg, and photos of allotments (in Hyde Park!) and back gardens being turned over to veg growing. (I remember being told by one of the older residents on my estate that the gardens here were dug up for food growing but returned to shrubs soon after the war was over for practical reasons.)


Autochrome photo of a bowl of red and green apples.
 Stunningly beautiful up close. I'd be happy to give it wall space.
William Van Sommen, autochrome photo.
(All photos are protected with a glass frame so apologies for the quality
but if you look closely my reflection is at the lower left edge of the bowl
)

My visit yesterday was intended to be a quick turnaround to return some books and head home empty handed. After a friendly chat with lovely staff at the welcome desk, it would have been rude to leave before having a look at the display of William Van Sommen’s autochrome photos, and from there it was just a quick step to the library shelves and magazine racks.  Gardens Illustrated, Kitchen Garden, Grow Your Own and the latest Permaculture editions (and more if I'd had time) awaited.

So, funnily enough I didn't leave empty handed as planned but came home with a small selection of books on urban growing, Beth Chatto’s drought resistant planting and wildflower gardening. Oops.  And I get to take them back in a month's time.
😄



Colour in the Garden is on until 24th January at 80 Vincent Square. The library is open Monday to Friday, there are loos on the 4th floor, a lift and wonderful views over the Westminster School playing fields on the way down.  More about what the library offers here.

The two RHS London shows this year are in April, free for RHS members; I'll be there, will you?.

3 Jan 2020

I didn't mean to be gone so long

Crikey, how time flies. My last post was two months ago and the overall number of blog posts last year would suggest that I was striving for quality over quantity. Hmm, not sure that worked.

four photos home grown red gooseberries, white raspberries, courgettes, apples
2019 wasn't all bad in the veg garden

It's easy to blame a lack of time - in this case, for real.  I've done a 6 month planting design diploma, created a new garden from scratch, retiled the bathroom myself after an outrageously expensive quote and been on several very exciting garden related outings, more of which later.  But mainly I've been outdoors pottering around rather than inside writing. Even now I'm mulling over the prospect of a short walk around the gardens to take some photos on this very chilly day, perhaps also to take my fork and dig up a shrub or two. And maybe even get the last of my bulbs planted.

And then there's that thing ... where a blog post will pop into my head as I'm gardening, walking, cooking, at the garden centre - anywhere but near my computer; I get home, draft the first few lines and then run out of steam.  (I started this post just after christmas; I rest my case.)

I ponder how to make the post more readable, more informative, more entertaining - why would anyone read this? what do people want to read? do I have anything to say that a hundred (or more) other gardening blogs haven't already said? Having got top place in 2018 for the Garden Media Guild's blog of the year, I felt I needed to prove myself.  And yes, I suffer from Imposter Syndrome which puts the brakes on a lot of my life. I'm currently trying to figure out why. (It's a very long list.)

I've also had the most irritating time with the browsers I use.  Chrome lets me write my blog but not comment on other blogs, Safari lets me comment but only write one or two paragraphs. So I have to copy and paste from Chrome to Safari and vice versa. Is the internet conspiring against me? Or is it Blogger?  I've taken out a subscription to a wordpress site and just need to figure out how it all works; I still have to cross the hurdle of choosing a workable 'theme'.  Blogger was a dream in comparison.

What is certain is that you're not rid of me yet. I'm into the eleventh year of writing this blog - high time for a return to wittering on diary-style about all things connected with veg.  Expect a few catch up posts about my adventures in 2019 - the best tomatoes from my trial, disappointing veg I definitely won't be growing again in 2020, some tips from my day at Mr Fothergill's seeds and ideas from the Hampton Court show grow-your-own section. Tempting?  I hope so!