Prepping the garden at the start of spring

"How goes the work?" is a favourite phrase from the Farmer Duck book. Having read the book numerous times to small children, it's become a rhetorical question - a sort of milestone to judge progress - or maybe just a pat on the back - that gets asked when I've spent time working in the garden ... or elsewhere. 

The answer after yesterday's toiling in the soil, is Yes, the work is underway.  But there's still a lot to do, especially in the veg garden. 

Yes, this IS the 'veg' patch - covered in self seeded pollinator attracting flowers. 

Having spent most of last year ignoring the veg patch garden (no time, no tap, dry summer, excessive heat, dry water butts), it was all just too much overwhelm. So much easier to buy food from the shops. 

But that's missing the point, for me anyway.  The satisfaction gained from ticking off a long list of jobs to do is huge.  Plus the excitement of watching seeds become leaves become veg become something tasty. And just being outdoors, working, watching, listening - it's hard to beat, especially when the sun is shining and bees are buzzing.

So do we see the garden as hard work ... or ongoing surprise, gently unfolding? 

I guess it depends.  I'm trying to be realistic about what I can get done in the time I have.  Work/Life balance as they say.

An egg box of chitted potatoes, broad bean seeds and onion sets stared accusingly at me every time I opened my car boot (aka the travelling shed).  I'd put them there so they were available to plant whenever I had five minutes to spare. Hah! - who am I kidding! (It was definitely not a five minute job.) 

So I finally cleared my diary for a day to be spent in planting, digging (yes, I know ... No Dig, etc, but I have to break up the lumps in my clay based soil), and sowing seeds.  No distractions - well, nearly none but a small yellow breasted Great Tit popped in now again to feast on bugs.  Hard to resist standing still to watch.  

It was glorious.  

The sun peeked out occasionally, as did the rain clouds, but I was determined not to lose focus. I worked and worked and then when I knew I'd exhausted my energy levels, I worked some more - fetching a can of water and sowing a few rows of beetroot and carrots before closing the garden for the evening.

The potatoes were planted in the space where I had grown Jerusalem Artichokes.  Just to be certain, I dug over the patch again just in case any tiny moochers had escaped my previous forensic excavation. They had ...

... and all starting to sprout.  

I'm tempted to replant a fair few - this time in a raised bed so that they're more controllable. They are delicious after all! 

But I also have a small bag of Dwarf Jerusalem Artichokes given to me by Suttons at the Garden Press Event earlier this year.  These are allegedly less invasive than the ones I've grown in the past - obviously a popular choice as they're now sold out online.  Mine are now planted in a marked bed; it will be interesting to see how they grow and taste, but I'm most curious to see if they flower! 

And just in case they don't, I'm pushing a few sunflower seeds in as well. Not in the same spot though!

What's Next?  Back to the seed box, clearing weeds in the Veg Trug garden and filling those water butts as there's dry days ahead (allegedly).

It's all go! 

I'm late, I'm late ... (as the White Rabbit said)

There are buds on my Fritillaria imperialis, the tulips are flowering, violets are awash with purple scented flowers and here in London, a week of fine weather is forecast!  I’m allowing myself to believe that spring has arrived. 

It's time to get on with important gardening stuff, like sowing seeds and planting potatoes (probably should have done that already) but I haven't yet. Hence, late. Will it matter? I'm not sure.

The Spring Equinox is next weekend and so far I’ve spent more time deciding what to grow this year than actually sowing seeds.  March is usually a very busy time with a few seed packets lined up in readiness (chillies, leeks, peppers, tomatoes) but, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, weather has been up one day and then sliding back down to unfavourable weather conditions the next. Woe is the gardener (me) with no greenhouse or clear windowsills.

But never one to admit defeat, I've ordered a couple of LED lit propagators to remedy the lack of light. These are also self-watering from a water well underneath which allows seeds to soak up just enough water - how cool is that. That should prevent the over zealous watering of tiny seeds. I'm irrationally excited by this and, if anyone is interested, will monitor indoor progress of said tiny seeds.

When it's cold, grey and damp outside, with no respite in sight, it's hard to drum up the enthusiasm to get outside. It never used to bother me, I must be getting old! A whiff of sunshine however will do the trick, if only there was more of it. I'll regret writing that if we have another relentlessly scorching summer. 

In the meantime though, there is food to be had from the neglected veg garden. The 4 year old Purple Sprouting Broccoli is reliably sending up tasty looking shoots and the last of the Cavolo Kale needs to be picked before it flowers. I'm wondering if the flowers are edible? No doubt I'll be nibbling a few on my next foray into the Veg Patch.  

And the Red Champagne rhubarb is looking healthy. Last year I moved it from under the apple tree where it had produced very few tiny stalks last year; it's now in a more open space and flourishing. That gives me the excuse (hardly needed) to dust down my Rhubarb Crumble cake recipe - if it's got fruit in it, it goes towards my 5-a-day, right?

Until next time, happy gardening!

Caro x

Fresh Fungi! Easily grow mushrooms at home

Review: Merryhill Mushroom kits.

Ad. Gifted mushroom kits, words are mine. 

My Dad was a helicopter pilot in the Royal Navy and, as such, had access to the airfields at Culdrose in Cornwall.  One of my earliest childhood memories is of Dad taking me and my siblings out on those airfields in the misty early mornings to forage for field mushrooms for breakfast ... 

Show me a small child who doesn't love going out with a parent on a treasure hunt! It was a weekend treat to look forward to and inspired a life long love of mushrooms and being outdoors in nature.

So when I was asked if I would trial a couple of home growing mushroom kits, the answer of course was yes.  This is how it worked out for me as a total novice - mistakes, corrections and successes. 

(Disclosure: I was sent the kits for review and have not been paid.)

A large box duly arrived from Merryhill Mushrooms a couple of weeks later.  The outer packaging had a clear instruction to 'Open Immediately', which I did. Inside were two boxes, one primed to grow Lion's Mane and the other producing the more familiar white mushroom, and a set of clear notes on setting up them up ... including starting the Lion's Mane off as soon as possible.  (Somehow I overlooked this important fact - I blame Christmas.)

Mistake number one: I gave the notes a cursory glance and popped both boxes to one side on a shelf, earmarking them as a project for the new year.  My bad, the Lion's Mane was primed and ready to grow!

This was discovered a week later when I spotted the first fruits emerging, unaided. 

Oops.

This was swiftly and easily remedied. The box just needed humidity, a constant temperature (10℃ - 20℃) and an indirect light source to thrive.   

All was easily remedied by setting the box up in the large plastic bag supplied, together with moist wads of kitchen towel to create a damp environment, and importantly, keeping those towels moist by squirting them with water twice a day - necessary to combat the occasional blast of central heating, even though my flat is usually around 17℃.

Mistake number two:  To my way of thinking, humidity is created when a space is warm and damp. I couldn't stop the plastic bag from flopping inwards over the mushrooms so used small paper clips to create a canopy around but away from the box sides. I have since learned from watching Ben of GrowVeg YouTube channel that he used chopsticks to hold his bag up; wish I'd thought of that.  

Wrong!

I still had to regularly pull the plastic upright and away from the mushrooms (important that the bag is kept clear) so discarded my Heath Robinson tactics after learning from Merryhill's customer service team that the mushrooms need a fresh exchange of air to thrive, ie. keep the bag open at the top! 

Some of the mushrooms had started to develop a pinkish coral like texture. Again, Customer Service proved helpful in reassuring me that this was probably due to lower light levels and that the fruits were still perfectly edible. 

Success! 

From then on, it was easy.  

The mushroom box was moved to a slightly brighter position, the bag was kept upright and open above the level of the box, the kitchen towels were kept damp - and away from the sides of the box - and beautiful 'lion's mane' teeth grew.  

I'm holding these upside down and probably should have picked them a bit sooner.
The slight yellowing is my fault because of earlier mistakes. 

Within a few short weeks I was able to carefully lift off a big handful of mushroom. Lion's Mane has quite a meaty texture and absorbs flavour really well.  MerryHill recommend cooking slices with butter and garlic; I fried mine with olive oil and soy sauce which proved very tasty! 

Storage:

Any mushrooms not used straightaway can be stored in a paper bag in the fridge for up to a week. Alternatively, they can be dried in a dehydrator or very low oven and stored in an airtight jar for future use. 

Benefits:

As if taste wasn't reason enough to eat Lion's Mane, this fungi is reputed to boost brain power, memory, mood, mental health, immune system, support heart health and is anti-inflammatory and antioxidant. Wow. 

I also thought that a kit would be an intriguing present for a curious child as it's quite fun to watch the mushrooms grow .. so, educational with a sense of anticipation, just the sort of thing I'd have given my (now adult) son in his formative years. 

Recycle:

And when the last fruit has been harvested, what to do with the compost?  Recycle it! Fellow mushroom growers on YouTube tell of breaking the blocks up and burying lumps of spent compost in their garden soil or raised beds.  It boosts the health of the soil and may even produce more mushrooms in the months ahead. 

So, to summarise:

• Easy to grow. Pay attention to setting up the kit for ambient light, moisture and temperature.
• The kits don't take up much room.
• Everything you need is in the box except for a spray bottle. 
• Lion's Mane has excellent health benefits. 
• Just in case, there's a helpful and friendly customer service via email or phone.
• It's a good way to try unusual mushrooms like Oyster, Shiitake or Lion's Mane.
• Would make a useful and fun gift for both adults and (supervised) children.
• A fun way to watch mushrooms grow!
• And a bonus boost for your soil or compost heap if you have a garden.

My kit was supplied by Merryhill Mushrooms who are a family-run business based in Sussex, UK. 

https://www.merryhill-mushrooms.co.uk/ 

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PS. British chef Jamie Oliver made a delicious looking autumnal curry using his home-grown mushrooms, some from MerryHill mushroom kits.  Watch from 15 minutes into the programme on the link below. 

https://www.channel4.com/programmes/jamie-what-to-eat-this-week/on-demand/74532-003

Reset! The garden awakes and so do I

What a difference a day makes! The first thing I do every morning (even before coffee) is to look out of the window at the sky and my garden area below.  

Just a basin of bulbs popping up

Yesterday it was predictably another day of grey skies and rain. Today, the garden seemed to sparkle under the early morning weak sun. Hurrah!

The sky shows promise of a good dry day ahead, perhaps even a hint of sun. Days like this lift my mood instantly - the potential to get things done and, even now in early February, there are seeds to sow (sweet peas, chillies, peas for balcony pots) and beds to mulch ready for this year's veg and flower seeds.

But first, I have to apologise for neglecting this blog and, in part, the gardens.  I had every intention of returning to a regular writing schedule last year but, as you can see, it didn't happen. There were just too many distractions in the real world not least of which was a neighbour who wanted my* garden cleared of plants and shrubs so that he could sit on a bench in the sunshine.  All this despite him having a south facing balcony.  

(* garden areas here are allocated to any tenant who wants to look after them so, strictly speaking, not my garden but land belonging to the housing association who have allowed me to take responsibility for it.)

The garden in question was one I have been custodian of during the past eighteen years. I have dug, chopped, reclaimed, redesigned and planted. It has plants brought back from my mother's garden after she died ... so, no, I was not going to let it go easily and stated my case.  The garden is now firmly back under my control. Whew.  (Sorry but, wow, that felt good getting that off my chest!)

It's the start of a new season but allow me a brief look back over last year. 

There were far too many failures in the veg garden - newly planted peas and kale were munched, tomatoes didn't ripen in time or were hit by blight, herbs languished, carrots didn't plump up ... shall I go on? And I spent most of my time helping others in their gardens to the detriment of my own spaces. And, yes, I did get totally sidetracked by flowers while my planted veg were decimated by heat, drought, slugs or just sheer neglect. 

But, as they say in Moominland ...

My gardening mantra

So ... slug defences at the ready (beer traps not pellets), seed box sorted (fresh seeds only), and compost bought.  Weeds have been tackled on a regular basis, perennials like gooseberries and roses have been pruned, strawberries have been tidied, lots of self seeded plants (foxgloves, calendula, forget-me-nots) are gradually being transplanted or ruthlessly cleared to make space for future veg.  

I still have to sort out my Hotbin composter; that was another sadly neglected area last year and any compost left in there is likely to be anaerobic now and too acidic.  But it's definitely worth saving; in the past (yes this has happened more than once, oops), I've spread the compost out on top of one of the beds and then tickled it in after a few days with no disastrous results.  In fact, I've read elsewhere that plants such as squash thrive on it.  Sounds exciting!

So, whether you're new to this blog or a returning reader, will you join me on my journey this year? 

Caro x

Nature abhors a vacuum

It seems such a short while ago that I donned thermal layers to weather the cold outside and watched not very patiently for signs of growth in the garden. At last we had some warm hot weather, a tad earlier than expected while the veg patch was still in spring mode, covered in forget-me-nots and daffodils. 

It looked wonderfully frothy ... mainly because it was too early to plant anything. 

Move on a few weeks and I now have to steel myself to ruthlessly remove (some of) the flowers in order to make space for some veg. The forget-me-nots can be pulled out once they've seeded themselves (thank you May winds) but the calendula, linaria and foxgloves will be keeping the bees and pollinators happy for a bit longer. 

I did actually make a start clearing and mulching this area in late winter ... tidying the strawberries, removing some of the raspberry canes that had crept too close to the path, and digging up last year's Jerusalem artichokes (somewhat optimistically hoping that I did actually find them all). 

And having waited patiently for the gentle warmth of spring - ie keeping late March or April in mind to start sowing seeds - a tiny heatwave jump started the heat of summer and denied us any much needed April rain. The hosepipe came out, the water butts were topped up. 

The result? A veg patch of self sown forget-me-nots, calendula, linaria, foxgloves, feverfew, ox-eye daisies and a host of identifiable weeds.  And a windowsill at home full of veg waiting to be planted out. 

On the plus side, the quince tree canopy has spread providing a nice shady spot for spinach. At least, that was the plan but when I walked around the patch this morning, a small meadow seems to have sprung up in the shade of the quince. Very pretty but oops. 

It all looks rather beautiful to my mind - I absolutely adore the zingy oranges, peppermint pinks and purple hues - and love the sounds of bees making the most of this early season bounty.  I admit I've spent more hours admiring the flowers than working in this plot.  

But now it's time. The forget-me-nots are starting to seed all over the garden for next year, last year's pink chard and Cavolo kale have finished and need to be removed, as does the garlic that never bulbed up. 

And, no, I didn't get all the sunchokes out, there seems to be a fair amount of those popping up again. Oops. (But maybe not.)

Tulips and a grand Day Out in Sussex

Spring is such an exciting time and every day there's something new to see in the garden. But there was extra excitement for me this past week as this town mouse went to the Sussex countryside on a day trip to Gravetye Manor.  

Gravetye is the historical home of William Robinson, a renowned gardener/writer of the late Victorian era who pioneered wild gardening during a period when formal bedding-plant style prevailed. Gravetye Manor is now run as a rather grand hotel and Michelin starred restaurant but Robinson's gardens have been maintained in keeping with his ideas on natural beauty. As expected, they are a visual delight all year round.

Why was I there? Well, the occasion was a talk from award winning garden designer Jo Thompson about her latest book 'The New Romantic Garden'. This was followed by a delicious lunch* and a stroll around the gardens where thousands of tulips, euphorbia, forget-me-nots and fern-leaved Sweet Cicely gave that spring sparkle to the borders in the Flower Garden.

I'm rather envious as my own stalwarts of spring, the hefty amount of tulips planted in previous years, have more or less vanished. There's a reason for this as I was to learn. Allegedly the tulips that can be bought in bulk from the nursery or garden centre are not as robust or dependable as those ordered from specialist bulb suppliers. No prizes for guessing where my bulbs were from. 

Or it could have been that mine just rotted as a result of torrential rain last year. 

So there's my lesson.  Now I know that if I want to keep the best ones, they should be lifted, dried and stored. I'm wondering if I can be bothered. And some species of tulip are more perennial than others as we learned from Tom Coward who, let's face it, knows.  

Tom has been the head gardener at Gravetye for the past fifteen years and imparted much wisdom to us about managing the gardens and, especially, tulips. We were told that 5,000 tulips had been planted in just three days last November (no, they don't have a vast team of gardeners) and that the best time to plant the bulbs is November or December.  (I sort of knew that, but not why.)

But notably, (pay attention please), if the bulbs are planted when the weather is still mild, the bulbs get warm and rot. (Note to self: don't store the bulbs indoors! And don't be tempted to plant while the weather is still relatively pleasant. And, yes, it's okay to plant the bulbs in January, they'll just flower later.)

Tom also mentioned Anna Pavord's book, 'The Tulip', as a jolly good read on the subject; my copy was retrieved from the bookshelf forthwith.

Another surprising revelation came when Tom showed us a small pot of tulips that he had grown from saved seed. Wow. Big respect. This is definitely one for the extremely patient gardener as the seeds take four years to grow. Impressive ... but not something I'll be trying any day soon. Although, as Tom pointed out, if you do this every year, after the first four years you'll have new tulips every year. 

To round off the tour, Tom took us up to the famous, and very large, oval walled kitchen garden. Built by Robinson on a slope to catch all available light, the symbiotic relationship between the kitchen and this garden continues.  Menus are planned to make use of what's growing there. Obviously there's not much that can be harvested at this time of year but an edible posy of wild garlic was included with our meal. 

In the garden long rows of beans are fleeced against pheasants, flowers for the house are starting to grow, herbs spill over the path edges under step over apples and broad beans and winter veg stood ready for harvest; it all looked very pretty. And, just outside the garden gates, who wouldn't want a hut like this to work from?

So, after this and to end the day, we were left to wander through the rest of the gardens, admiring blossom and camassia in the Orchard. This would have been the perfect end to a perfect day ... if we hadn't got stuck in traffic for two hours in the heat behind a road traffic accident. Ah well, you can't have it all.

Let me leave you with this lovely view walking down from the kitchen garden in Gravetye.

William Robinson's spirit lives on .... 

* 'lunch'  doesn't convey the fabulous meal we had; tasty, beautiful and locally sourced fine dining with delicious wine would be a better, if more wordy, description. 

A natural way to control slugs and snails

A baby snail exploring the flower stalks of my Wild Garlic plants.

If you've got a garden, you've got slugs and snails.  Fact.  The little blighters lurk everywhere - behind walls, around pots and under planks of wood. I've even found one behind a pot on a top floor balcony! But they're also an essential part of the eco-system that our gardens need to succeed ... but possibly not in such large numbers.

Slugs come in all shapes and sizes ... and names.  A quick google search gives me banana slugs, ghost slugs, leopard slugs, pancake slugs, Spanish slugs, brown field slugs and a rainbow of slug colours - black, yellow, red, ash-grey and pink. And there's also a range of rather cute sea slugs.

They're hermaphrodes so both sexes can lay hundreds of eggs several times a year after mating. Once hatched, tiny slugs become adults within a year and then start the cycle again.

They'll munch on dead leaves, sick plants and, in the case of leopard slugs, they'll also eat each other.  And when that food source runs out, they'll head straight for your newly planted lettuces and legumes. Pity the poor gardener who persists in trying to grow hostas, lupins and delphiniums!  (There is a way round that.)

Putting aside their natural aptitude for destruction, slugs are also an important part of the garden eco-system, providing a food source for birds, foxes, beetles - and, if you're lucky, hedgehogs, frogs and ducks. So the methods I've tried and tested in my veg patch and other gardens are more about control than total annihilation.

When I wrote about natural slug deterrents in 2014, I hadn't yet tried wool pellets or Strulch. But both worked for me in subsequent years keeping slugs and snails away from beans and strawberries.  

This year I'm going to try Grazers, a natural spray recommended by garden designer Jo Thompson.  I can't report on its effectiveness yet as we haven't had much wet weather so far. (Ha! I wrote that yesterday, today it's raining.)

And I've not tried drowning slugs in pots of beer (I prefer to drink it myself) but heard from a neighbour that he'd had some success with a yeast based concoction but was unable to provide me with a recipe. It seems that it's the yeast that gets the slugs attention.

But, happy days, I've since found the magic potion online and have stored up the recipe for the next bout of expected precipitation. (Recipe at bottom of this post or watch here.)

Two more ways of protecting your veg plants; try surrounding them with plants that slugs dislike. Or, secondly, plant into pots and smear a good slick of grease such as a Vaseline around the rim - slugs will arch over copper tape but sticky grease deters them.  It certainly worked with a client's delphiniums last year!

A few plants that slugs don't like are strong smelling plants like nepeta, sage, thyme, lavender and the hairier plants like borage, foxgloves, salvia, astrantia.  I've noticed they also leave calendula alone.  All of these are also good for attracting pollinators. 

But, of course, the best deterrent is to go out during the evening with a torch and bucket of warm salty water; you'll find many molluscs feasting on your plants. Pick them off, drop them into the bucket; the salty water will kill them. Cruel but effective. But put the bodies into the compost, I'm not sure that birds would benefit from eating salty snacks. 

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A recipe to capture slugs

• Approximately one cup of lukewarm water (not hot)
• 2 Tablespoons of plain flour
• 1 Tablespoon of sugar (fine sugar like caster sugar will dissolve faster)
• 1 teaspoon of dried yeast
• A jar to mix it all in.

Add all the dry ingredients in the jar, add the warm water bit by bit stirring as you go to avoid clumps. 

Make this mixture an hour before using. The mix will be active when you see foam on the top.

Pour into tubs or containers sunk partly into the soil, away from your precious plants. Check on the tubs in the morning and expect to find several slugs have found their way there. 

A few pointers on making slug traps from recycled pots can be read here.

Worth a try, eh? 

Bursting with Blissful Blossom (it must be spring)

 

That winter wasn't so bad, was it? And followed by a glorious sunny spring, it's easy to believe that the plants are jumping the gun a bit but, no, looking back at previous years, I can see that everything is right on track.  (A good reason for taking photos of the garden throughout the year.) 

After the gentle unfolding of snowdrops, then the brash appearance of yellow trumpet daffodils, the garden is settling into the season. The flowers that heralded spring in my garden are starting to fade (the pink hellebores are currently a rather lovely pale lilac grey colour) and there's something new every time I go into the garden.  It's taken a while to get to this stage but now the garden is constantly evolving and surprising me.  (No instant tv makeovers here!)

Brunnera, ajuga, camellia, forget-me-nots, white daffs and honesty ... all are brightening up the borders. Bizarrely, so is a very orange Fritillaria Imperialis. I have no idea where that came from - I definitely didn't plant it! - but am rather loving it.  I might even introduce a few more for next year. 

But it's not just flowers.  In this garden (the one I see from my balcony), the lemon verbena is pumping out delicious smelling leaves, as is the Chilean guava; hopefully there will be fruit from that this year. The blackcurrant, blueberries and gooseberries are also looking very healthy. I've planted a couple of purple sprouting broccoli into the beds as well; they're leftovers from last year so who knows if they'll actually grow but there's nothing to lose!

There are pots of dahlias, origanum Kent Beauty (the one that trails pink bracts), four mint varieties, achillea, lemon balm (those herbs are the four that make a refreshing tea) and wild strawberries.

In the veg garden, fruit trees are in full froth; one puff of wind and it will look like a wedding has just taken place. My Cavolo kale plant (just the one left!) has started to flower, the pink Chard is hanging on in there and I've had many delicious stems from my third year (perennial?) purple sprouting broccoli. 

It must be time to break out the seed box again and get the beetroot, chard and brassicas in for next year. 

News from the Veg Patch

I'd like to say that this year's growing season has been a triumph but ... sadly, no.  

But let's start with something cheerful - these nasturtiums are helpfully climbing up through the raspberry canes, the sight of their lovely vibrant flowers just sings happiness to me.

Elsewhere in the veg garden, things are not looking so rosy.  Ideally, the veg patch could have done with spring warmth and summer rain; instead, like many other gardeners, I've found the weather this year has done me and the garden no favours.  

Weeds have thrived, edible plants have not.  

Although, that said, I had a fantastic strawberry season ... over 3 kilos of tasty berries! (I think that equates to nearly 7 lbs. Impressive.)  The berries were mostly untouched by slugs, snails or birds without any protection (remarkable, given the wet weather) and the plants kept producing over several weeks. Copious rain followed by warm ripening sun seems to be the magic formula for success.  

If only I could bottle that and bring it out every year!

But no beans, peas, leeks or courgettes for me this year. What marauding molluscs didn't decimate, the heatwave finished off. Several times I've seriously considered ripping it all up and starting again with perennial flowers. But, as the saying goes, Keep Calm and Carry On Gardening. 

My tomatoes, on the other hand, are looking very promising. (I'm an optimist.) I planted them out late this year due to the chill weather so things are a bit behind schedule but green fruit has started to appear. And, this year, I diligently removed (almost) all of those little side shoots growing between the leaf and stem; a few have escaped me but I've left them alone as they've formed trusses of fruit. (Probably a mistake.) I'm watering daily and feeding every Friday and have recently pinched out the growing tops of my cordon (indeterminate) tomatoes. 

Why feed weekly on a Friday rather than, say, Monday? Because I love a bit of alliteration so 'Feed on Friday' makes for a good aide memoire.

Still on the bright side of things, apples from both the Braeburn and Core Blimey trees are looking good. They're dropping in droves from the branches but the flavour isn't there yet - it's more cardboard than crisp for now. 

Blueberries and gooseberries have also been surprisingly good and plump; Chilean guava berries, not so much. Thanks, heatwave.

The Morello cherry trees, however, which are usually of minimal interest to the birds here, were stripped bare of fruit as soon as they ripened. A phenomenon that I found both puzzling and annoying. Who were the culprits for the meticulous denuding of my Morellos?  People or birds? My money's on the pigeons.

There will be no fruit from the quince tree either. There was lots of quince blossom in the spring but not enough bees around to pollinate them. Another climate casualty.

And what of the pear and plum trees? Pears are ripening out of reach at the top of the tree, and there are no plums. Again.  That's fifteen fruit bearing years with nothing to show for it; I may have to deploy my recently serviced chainsaw. 

So that's my veg patch year so far ... more food for thought than food for the table but there's still the winter brassicas to plant out. 
 

A Feast for the Senses

 

I was reminded the other morning how rare are those times when it becomes possible to just slow down and deeply relish the moment without any of the distractions of modern life. 

I'd been down to the veg patch to water my tomatoes and, as I walked swiftly back through the gardens on my way home and towards work, I saw how quickly a few days of warm weather had ripened the blackberries on wild brambles growing untamed in one of the borders.  

I slowed down to eat a couple, lingered on to pick a small handful and then I started to look for a pot to gather enough for a pudding, a smoothie or jam. That sweet/sharp burst of juiciness was so moreish!

It was a meditative moment.

As I lingered over the picking of fruit, I relished the warmth of early morning sun after weeks of chill grey skies, the sight of the plump berries growing tall against a clear blue sky and gradually became aware of the sweet scent of honeysuckle flowers rippling towards me on the warm breeze. 

These brambles have been allowed to thrive in an untended border, pushing their way through Cornus stems, an Elaeagnus shrub, honeysuckle vines and a very large pink flowering Hebe. It was the Hebe that has always been a magnet for bees and so I gathered berries to the gentle hum of foraging honey bees and birdsong emanating from neighbouring hedges.  

As juice from the fruit stained my fingers, it occurred to me that this short interlude to my day appealed to all of my senses; it was a blissful, peaceful, hugely satisfying moment. 

It's not that where I live is noisy - planes drone quietly overhead, trains swoosh past, sirens wail, horns beep in the distance, the usual everyday city sounds - but a prolonged moment of stillness among nature is a moment to be cherished.

It reminded me of the time I lived by the sea. There, I would sit on the pebble beach, listen to the waves washing onto the shore and the gulls wheeling overhead, and watch the sun set in the west. Even then, (it was a long time ago), I could appreciate the beauty of the moment.

And now I have my garden spaces and nearby Heath.  Often, for me, the mindful benefits of gardening are limited to the satisfaction of a task finished, the physical movement involved in all that bending and stretching and the joy of a well earned good night's sleep.  

But it's the times we slow down and feel gratitude that life becomes mindful.

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In case you're wondering, blackberries freeze well laid out flat on a tray then bagged up when frozen so I'll put a batch in the freezer to enjoy over winter. In the meantime though, I like the sound of the blackberry muffins and pie from this London based blogger:

https://vikalinka.com/bakery-style-blackberry-muffins/

And sow it begins - an early March update

Tulips have started to flower already!

Today I've been wondering why spring is called spring. Yes, I know, my brain frequently flies off at a tangent. The answer should be obvious but I love a bit of etymology.   In Old English 'spring' meant a welling up of water, a wellspring ... rather than a falling down of water from the sky as is the case today! The word also meant to arise, gush or burst forth which is certainly the case with my garden this year.  

It's a fabulous season, from the daffodils and violets blooming to the whole garden visibly coming back to life.  But it's the magic held in a few packets of seeds that holds the power to excite.  I love every stage of the process from sowing the seeds, the thrill of seeing them germinate and then nurturing my plant babies into maturity. (And then, of course, eating some of them. Although I often find the plants so beautiful that I can hardly bear to denude the garden of their loveliness.)

So, on that basis, February was pretty exciting despite torrents of rain; the winter was relatively mild here in the UK south so February saw the first seeds being sown here in Veg Patch Villas. 

I poopoo-ed the advice of the 'experts' telling me not to sow until mid March.  I worked on the assumption that if it all failed, I would have time to start again. So ... into little Jiffy coir pellets on Valentine's Day went seeds of tomato, chilli, aubergine, and lunchbox cucumbers.  Cosmos and courgettes were sown in the last days of February and Tagetes (marigolds), leeks and physalis (Cape Gooseberry) were started in module trays in the first week of March.  

Outside, at the beginning of February, I filled the gaps between overwintered parsley and chervil in the Veg Trugs with spinach and radish - both of which are coming along nicely. The soil in the Veg Trugs is fairly free draining so the seeds probably enjoyed the regular downpours and sheltered location.  I've not grown spinach in early spring before (who knew it was so hardy!) but it's worth doing as it will bolt more readily in hot weather. Another lesson learned. 

Broad beans that I sowed into pots at the beginning of December and germinated on my balcony were planted out at the end of February - all sturdy little plants that have survived a few deluges in the past week. Regular checks show no slug damage ... so far so good.

Pea and Sweet Pea seedlings enjoying a spot of high-rise sunshine.

Lastly, as I reckon peas are fairly hardy and I had a spare set of root trainers, I sowed 32 tall pea seeds (Champion of England from DT Brown) on the 23rd Feb - they're now a couple of inches tall (fast growers!) and have escaped any hungry mice that would have devoured the seeds if sown direct into the soil.

I'll plant those peas out next week and sow another patch of peas (Kelvedon Wonder, a short pea) towards the end of the month, together with another round of broad bean seeds. This time, the Crimson flowered variety; I sowed white and crimson flowered beans next to each other a few years ago and had some very beautiful variations in the flowers as the bees cross pollinated the plants! That, in my view, is what keeps things interesting. 

The next job will be potting on my tomatoes.  Those little three week old seedlings already have their first set of true leaves so I want to bury the stems a bit and give them more root room.  It will be a while before they're ready to go out into the shelter of my balcony so burying the stems will strengthen the plants and reduce any etiolation.

And then I'll have to find space for germinating the next round of seeds indoors; I'll be adding kales, beetroot and broccoli to my seed starting station (aka my breakfast table).  But, you never know, by mid March the soil may well be warm enough to sow direct outdoors. 

Down in the veg patch, milder temperatures are having a noticeable effect. Wild garlic is ready to be harvested, as is chard and broccoli - and, no, I haven't finished digging up the Jerusalem Artichokes. I've taken a couple of half bucketfuls to a friend who adores the tubers, makes a fine soup from them (must get that recipe!) and isn't troubled by the gurgling gastronomic consequences of eating them. 

What I have done though is cleared a lot of the self seeded violets, feverfew, and forget-me-nots to create space for more food growing. Plants to encourage pollinators will now have to be interspersed with veg as companion plants which is definitely a good thing and in true cottage garden style. 

One useful and timely tip for a companion plant is that garlic has a beneficial relationship with strawberries. Thank you Ben from Grow Veg YouTube channel - he mentioned this tip in his Strawberry Masterclass video.  I've been sorting out my strawberry bed as I didn't give it enough attention last year; this year I've cut off old leaves, transplanted the plants from last years runners, given it all a sprinkling of blood, fish and bone to boost the soil and will now plant my module grown garlic in between the strawberry plants.  And then, as usual, I'll surround the plants with a layer of Strulch - the straw mulch that gradually composts down to benefit the soil and that will also protect my strawberries from slugs and snails in the summer.  

So, as ever … onwards! 

Happy gardening  👩‍🌾 

Travels with my Clematis

A couple of weeks back I braved the evening rush hour commute on London’s Underground with a rather beautiful and very tall purple clematis bobbing about under my arm. I let four crowded trains go by before I could get on board and even then struggled to gain enough space for me and my precious plant. It was worth the effort though - that gorgeous plant was gifted from The Guernsey Clematis Nursery via the Garden Press Event where I had spent many happy and worthwhile hours during the day.  

🌿🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿

The Garden Press Event is an annual gathering where the garden media (bloggers, journos, podcasters and other interested parties) get to explore new products, chat with the companies that created them and listen to talks by industry notables. Those talks included (among others) Huw Richards and Niall McCauley (both popular gardening YouTubers) talking about small space self sufficiency (Huw) and how to start a YouTube channel (Niall). 

The event is for one day only so choices have to be made between exhibitors and talks; as a result, I missed hearing Anne Marie Powell (renowned garden designer and all round lovely person) talking about the garden she’s designed to celebrate Octavia Hill, the founder of the National Trust. That garden can be seen at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show this summer.  And if you want to recreate your own little piece of Sissinghurst or other National Trust gardens, Blue Diamond garden centres have teamed up with the NT to produce a range of seeds to inspire your dreams.

... if only I had enough space for a white garden! 

And, of course, it’s important to make time during the day to catch up with friends old and new! 

So, all in all it was a very busy day. There’s always seeds, soil (peat free, of course) and pest control companies offering something new each year as well as an abundance of inspiration, education, garden equipment and generally useful stuff. 

With my gardener’s brain fired up, and over 100 exhibitors there, these were a few of the products that piqued my interest ...

Primeur rubber products (bottom left of photo). Made from recycled tyres, I could see the potential for using their stepping stones, patio tiles and curveable edging in a variety of situations … keeping gravel away from borders, enclosing a grassed area, marking out paths and seating areas. In fact many of those products would be very useful in both my gated garden and the veg patch.

At another stand I gazed longingly at the ever desirable tools from Niwaki. I already have one of their Hori Hori knives, and a pair of their garden snips, but am now lusting after the mini shears and a larger pruning saw. Heaven forbid if I was to go to the Niwaki shop, I’d probably empty my bank balance! 

Throughout the show there was a noticeable emphasis on gardening in a changing climate, ecological awareness, peat free, sustainability and wildlife. 

At the entrance I noticed new product clogs made with sea algae by French company Rochette. (Middle right of above collage.) Sadly not available until later in the year, I love that someone is finding a useful way to clean up the oceans. New gloves from Town and Country are also made from recycled ocean plastics - and very comfy they were too. My next glove purchase for sure. 

Plastic free Bio Fleece made from plants also addressed the perennial problem of too much plastic in the industry. Good to know that this fleece degrades in a couple of years so gardeners don’t have to worry about yards of torn mucky plastic fleece ending up in landfill. (Something we should all be thinking about!)

Along those same lines, Hortiwool, a Staffordshire based family run company, were promoting their wool products - large naturally degradable pads for insulation, nutrition (naturally degrades to feed the soil) and hydration (keeps basket plants moist when used as a liner) ... oh yes, the pads also (allegedly) deter slugs. I might give these a try when the beans and brassicas are planted.

There were funky children’s gardening sets from Burton and Ball, gift sets for rose lovers from David Austen, Coco + Coir compost that also allegedly deters slugs and snails (one to watch!), box moth pheromone traps and seed collections galore to inspire visions of bountiful harvests!  Mr Fothergill seeds are also launching a new coir based compressed seed compost later in the year - click on the collage pic to read more. 

But as a veg grower, one of the most alluring stands for me had to be that of new heritage seed company She Grows Veg. Lucy Hutchins is well known on social media (@shegrowsveg) for the beautiful, healthy and sometimes quirky food she grows and now that expertise has been channelled into her new seed company. Lucy’s beautifully presented range offers seeds of unusual varieties of vegetables - rose chicory, pink celery, ‘Molten Fire’ amaranth and Toona sinensis, aka the Beef and Onion tree, to name just a few.

(Find these seeds at www.shegrowsveg.com)

Despite already buying all the seeds I need for the season ahead, I think I might have to create a whole new list! Tempting for all growers but Lucy has found that her seeds are appealing to a style conscious youthful market. It’s a beautiful range and Lucy’s enthusiasm and background is evident in both her website and her instructional videos. I genuinely wish her every success. 

So that was me at The Garden Press Event; a wonderful day to mingle with my ‘tribe’ … but now it’s back to the real world and putting all those garden thoughts and ideas into action!  

My Frankenstein garden

A picture of my violets just because they are so beautiful 

What is going on in my veg garden?  My laziness in the garden last year is producing some unexpected results in that some of the non-perennial plants have decided to regenerate and come back to life with renewed vigour. Hey, I’m not complaining! 

I gave up on the garlic cloves planted last year; they just didn’t grow much.  Too shady, too wet, too warm? I don’t know.  Inexplicably, those same cloves started to grow again last month and currently stand at 10 inches of leafy growth. They seem to be behaving like shallots with several stems from each clove. Definitely one to watch.

Also last summer I left one of my purple sprouting broccoli plants to set seed as it had been a very good plant. I’m never hasty in removing the big plants anyway as the frothy yellow flowers are a magnet for bees and I think they look lovely. 

In due course, having collected seed and cut back the stems, I noticed that the plant was still producing tiny shoots so I let it be. (Out of curiosity and because I had nothing to go into that space.)  

That broccoli is now acting like a perennial; there are two tennis ball sized heads almost ready for harvest! Surely that’s not usual? In 15 years of veg growing here, I’ve never known a broccoli to behave this way - even continuing to sprout while it sets seed - but perhaps I’ve been too quick to clear the beds. 

 

Elsewhere, the Jerusalem artichoke ‘fence’ is slowly being dismantled. As expected it produced both cheerful yellow flowers on tall stems and an abundant harvest of delicious tubers. Win:win. 

I could leave it to regenerate but, when you get 20 to 50 tubers for each one planted, it’s quite the challenge getting through the 10 metres I grew last summer … even when I distribute the bounty among friends! So this year I’m opting for sense over sensibility and planting up just one smallish square of tubers - as well as some real sunflowers. 

And lastly, one plant that I hope will continue in its new life is the Red Champagne rhubarb which I relocated. Yes, probably the wrong time of year to do that but in the ten years since I planted it near the fruit trees, the annual harvest has amounted to a couple of spindly stems. So here’s hoping that nature gives a lot of love to this little plant. 

As the seasons turn

At last there’s a tangible feeling that winter may be moving on.  That’s easier to imagine on a day like today when the sun is shining, the wind has dropped, skies are blue, snowdrops and hellebores are flowering and daffodils are pushing their way up through the soil - the perfect crisp winter’s day that inspired me to an early morning run on Hampstead Heath.

Last year, I didn’t prioritise the veg garden and consequently played catch up with seeds all year; I’m ashamed to admit that my best harvests were apples and lettuce!  Even the birds left me with only one small basket of cherries.  This year I’m determined to do better and be more productive. I’m tempted to walk my fingers through the seed box but I know most seeds will be happier if started off next month .. I’ve already made a monthly list of what to sow when.

Although ... let's see now .... it is possible for me to make a tiny start; I have radishes and spinach that can both be sown outdoors now. I’ll sow them in my raised Veg Trugs in a sunny corner and cover them with horticultural fleece. I’m optimistic for good germination as my urban gardening spaces benefit from slightly warmer temperatures thanks to nearby heated buildings so (keeping fingers firmly crossed for luck) it’s unusual to get a severe frost here. (The water butts have frozen only twice this winter.)  Plus, daytime temperatures here in North London are hovering around or above the 10℃ mark.

I’ve also got small broad bean plants to go out, sown in modules on the last day of November and grown outside in the shelter of my south-west facing balcony.  Never overlook any outdoor space - my tiny balcony is currently also hosting sweet peas on their third set of true leaves, Cavolo Nero kale in pots, parsley and a trough of winter salad leaves ... all grown outside throughout the winter.

By the end of February I’ll be popping tomato, chilli and cucumber seedlings out there - under a plastic cover, of course! The jury is still out on whether I can be bothered to grow aubergines; if I have enough space, they’ll be out there too … or maybe I’ll have to requisition my friend’s nearby greenhouse?

In the garden itself there’s still time to move plants, tidy and replant strawberries, prune apple and pear trees and mulch the soil.  And if I get the time, I'll be pruning roses.

Although I planned to take a small step back from gardening throughout the winter months, there will always be plenty to do.  Which reminds me ... I've gotta get those leaf-filled sacks stashed away in an unobtrusive corner and empty my Hotbin composter! Onwards!