Nature is all around us and I can get my daily dose from nearby Hampstead Heath but, try as I might to ignore it, there's also a lot of bricks and mortar around. That's London for you. Some of the architecture around here is brutal - in a modernist way - the local secondary school for example -while elsewhere in the neighbourhood there are parks and turrets, canals, domes and houses with lovely old walls and neatly planted front gardens. The contrast of old and new, concrete and nature is a daily sight potentially more so here than in the countryside.
Even in this all-embracing environment there are sights that just don't fit and one of these is the ability of plants to self seed into the most obscure places. It's awesome. Photographer Paul Debois held a similar fascination for this subject which he captured in his 'Wildlings' exhibition a couple of years ago.
The definition of a wildling is a plant that's escaped from cultivation. I like that, the idea of a plant planning on how to tunnel out of a tidy garden or leap over the boundary wall - or just the thought of plants having a secret desire to live life on the other side.
Some wildlings are welcome - purple campanula is a regular sight growing out of walls around here, as is Corydalis lutea - and a memory of the lily of the valley and mint that crept into my mother's garden under the next door neighbour's fence has just come to mind. But around here, I'll take what I can get. These for example, spotted on a sunny spring walk - gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'a weed is only a plant in the wrong place'!
2 types of fern and herb-Robert | Polystichum setiferum | railway bluebells
Clockwise from top left:
Calendula on the railway embankment,
Feverfew, Brunnera, Herb Robert (Geranium robertianum) all growing amongst stone pavers.
Random facts:
Apparently fresh leaves of Herb Robert can be used in salads or to make tea and are said to repel mosquitoes if rubbed on the skin.
This year I'm being very relaxed about it all. Seed sowing, that is. Having successfully gambled on sowing sweet pea seeds into pots on my balcony in late November and a first flush of broad beans into trays in February, I've decided to mostly forego trays of seedlings on every windowsill in favour of sowing direct outdoors this year. Am I alone in becoming increasingly uncertain of when best to sow? One whiff of sunshine is enough to convince me that it would be okay to start a few seeds off, only to have my hopes dashed when that smidgeon of sun is replaced by days of bitingly cold winds - or worse, clear nights with frosty dawns. For those who do succumb to a few trays of seeds on the windowsill, the jolly game of turn and turn again begins - unless you're fortunate in having light drenched living quarters or a greenhouse. (I don't.* see tip at end of post!)
It's hard to resist though, isn't it? All those seed catalogues seducing us with beautifully photographed packets of potential. I restrain myself by knowing that there's never going to be enough space in the garden here for everything I want to grow so I'm making lists while biding my time before sowing. In previous years I've had windowsills stuffed with plants growing wildly etiolated weeks before the weather softened towards summer. I've gone to the other extreme too and started my seed sowing as other bloggers wrote about how well their carefully nurtured plants were doing outside. Undeniably, I have to acknowledge that spring is February to April; despite the appearance of daffodils and primroses, it's too cold at one end and possibly too wet and windy at the other - even with climate change. A middle path is needed.
For me, that compromise has taken the form of sowing (yes, I succumbed) a few seeds indoors in early March to get slightly ahead of the game (tomatoes, chillies and a few grasses - all needing heat to get started) but for other spring sowings, I'm taking my cue from the tulips. I know, bonkers. There is no scientific evidence to support this theory. But while I've been raking, rebuilding and pruning, I've been keeping a close eye on what my bulbs and perennials are doing - and all the tulips have slowly produced buds with one or two ready to open. This is an early start for the tulips so I'm going to let nature lead the way. I've been in limbo since mid-March but once those bulbs are in bloom, that's my cue to start sowing, both outdoors and in. The temperature could still drop but, I have to admit, this way holds more anticipation and excitement than checking the local weather forecast!
So, on this beautiful blue skies day (allegedly just the one for now), I'll be carrying on with a myriad of other garden jobs that need to be done - including transplanting self-sown seedlings and pondering how to prune the top of the pear trees which must be three times my height by now. There'll be time enough tomorrow (while it's raining) to go through my seed box and plan what to grow.
How's everyone else doing? Have you started off your annuals or will you, like me, wait a couple more weeks?
PS. Frustrated gardeners might like to pay heed to the Higgledy Gardener in Cornwall who advises not to direct sow before mid-April, leaving a few mid-May sowings to extend the season even longer. But even he will walk on the wild side occasionally - his commitment to provide borders in bloom at the Cornish Port Eliot festival at the end of July has necessitated an early sowing under cover (cloche, not greenhouse).
* In an attempt to even out the light source for my seedlings, I place a large sheet of white card between my windowsill seed trays and the darker room behind to reflect some of the window light back. The lengths we go to, eh!
I've just been reading back through the comments left on my last post about my Dad and shedding a few more tears. I was so moved by the shared experiences of others who had gone through the same thing and the messages of sympathy. Thank you, everyone; your comments have touched my heart.
As expected, the funeral was very sad but a good many people came from all over the country to say last farewells. Despite the sombre occasion, it was good to catch up with old friends and family members who live far away - my father's cousin turned up with a treasure trove of past family history and old photos, a subject that I find fascinating especially as I've never managed to get further back than four generations. It's a sobering thought to know that I'll never be able to get either of my parents to tell stories about their lives again although I made frequent notes in the past - my mum loved to talk about her family and the tales she'd heard as a girl.
A week on and back in the garden I'm seeing lots of signs that spring has sprung - at least in my London microclimate. (The benefits of having nearby heated buildings!) It's still cold but, my gosh, it's good to be spending the entire day outside again. As in, not getting rained on. Daffs are out, cowslips and primroses are out, snowdrops are still out and, yesterday, I spotted a tulip bud behind a lavender bush. Brave, but stupid. That flower might regret popping up so early if we have any more frosts; then again, I might be pleasantly surprised.
Leaves from last year's tulips are providing an overnight feast for snails and slugs (actually, the tulips are from the year before last - this is their third flowering!) Bog standard red pelargoniums are flowering now, after their third winter in the garden. (Yes, in the UK! Awesome.) When I picked them up for a couple of quid several years ago, I thought they'd be pot fillers for one summer. I'm guessing they're helped by being planted in the borders with a good root run rather than drying out in pots. That, and I deadhead regularly.
I'm trying to resist seed catalogues until I know how much space I've got. That's a weird thing to say, given that the veg patch is now in it's seventh year but there's been changes afoot. Half of my raised beds have rotted, allowing soil to seep onto the paths, so I've chucked them out. Rather than replacing them, I've created larger borders by edging the path with scaffolding planks. I planned to grow lots of cut flowers this year alongside the veg and cleared a space for the purpose. But … we all know how nature abhors a vacuum and that area has quickly filled up with perennials and biennials that I've moved. I'm sure I could still squeeze in a few annuals though.
I dug up all the Autumn Bliss raspberries, an action that I'm not regretting in the slightest. (Tra-la-la!) I've bought five more Polka canes which have been temporarily planted until I figure out the best place for them once I've finished the overhaul of the patch. And the supermarket sweep has started already. I'm such a sucker for a bargain. I bought a blackberry cane for £2 last week and went back this week for a bush rose for the same price. (Next week: possibly 2 apple trees for £10! Woohoo!) It might seem weird adding a rose to the veg patch but my logic was twofold - one, I'll get beautiful scented long-stemmed deep pink roses for cutting (if the box is to be believed) and, two, the petals are edible and can be sugar frosted for cakes. Roll on summer!
But there's more. I've taken on another garden space, this time two floors down under my window. This is going to be a major renovation project as there are hedges and shrubs to be brought under control, ivy to be cleared and ground to be dug and improved. Thankfully it's not a huge space. So far I've only managed to prune a Kerria japonica. But I'm sure it will all be wonderful. Eventually.
This is where the project starts… the surrounding hedges are over 15 ft tall.
Because I've embarked on this garden renovation project, I'm linking up with Helen's End of Month View over at her blog The Patient Gardener. With fair skies and a following wind, I should be able to chart the progress of the garden in the months to come.
Last weekend I had to return a plant to the nursery at Wisley. I'd bought two identical white Echinacea in mid-January; one grew, the other didn't. No problem, the RHS nurseries guarantee their plants so I was confident of getting a replacement or refund. As a bonus, the sun was shining so the trip also provided a good excuse to use my membership to have a wander round the gardens.
There was a Lindt sponsored bunny hunt over the school holidays, an excellent idea to tempt visitors into all areas, with the promise of chocolate at the end. Who could resist? Not I! I collected a form and kept an eye out - even adults like a treasure hunt! It also provided a good framework for my walk, taking me through areas that I explore less frequently like the Glasshouse, Rockery and Children's play area.
I had every intention of making this a short-ish visit, a couple of hours max. But that's just silly. Even at this time of year, I was stopping every few paces to take photos or peer at a label - hence the delay in writing this post, so many photos! I'd last visited in mid-January in search of scent, winter colour and texture; in the three month interim, most of that has now, as expected, been overtaken by spring planting. People not busy hunting for gold bunnies were busy photographing the magnolias in full bloom - a breathtaking sight on a sunny day.
As ever, I found wandering around such an education. Admittedly, I'm completely addicted to plants but there really is no substitute for seeing established plants growing throughout the year or how to combine plants for maximum effect: Muscari under a gorgeous ornamental cherry (Prunus 'Shirotae') or primula next to saxifraga growing out of a wall in the rock garden, sedums (starting spring growth but with last year's seedheads intact) next to grasses Eragrostis curvula. Often shrubs will grow much larger than nurseries would have us believe, given the right conditions - at Wisley, you'll see how big that unpruned bay (Laurus nobilis), sweet box (Sarcococca) or Fatsia will grow! (I walked around a huge mature Fatsia, checking to see if it really was just the one shrub. It was.)
Banks of Skimmia took over where January's Daphne odorata left off, scenting the air all around; white camellias were still looking good while the red camellias were getting a bit, well, past it. I walked past swathes of Erythronium 'Pagoda' on my way up to the orchard, a small woodland plant I was particularly taken with. Useful and beautiful ground cover is always worth noting.
Erythronium 'Pagoda'
The pruning in the orchard is a lesson in itself which I'll cover in a second post on the soft fruits and edibles growing at Wisley. I always have a look at the trial grounds when I visit, it's so interesting to see the methods that are used and what's growing. The route that I usually walk to get there is via the Glasshouse Borders; as a big fan of Piet Oudolf planting, this is my must-visit part of the gardens. In January the borders were breathtakingly lovely in their midwinter monochrome with the dried seedheads of herbaceous perennials left intact; now those have been cut back as new growth comes through and all is green and fresh, albeit seen at a distance as the borders have been roped off while the grass is reseeded.
Part of my bunny hunt directed me into the glasshouse. There were two bunnies to be found here but first you had to tear yourself away from the scented air at the entrance! Scented plants had been lavishly arranged around citrus trees - it was an extraordinary treat to smell the gorgeous clove like scent of a dianthus or sweet pea in April!
Sweet peas, freesia, dianthus, Linaria reticulata 'Flamenco', Heliotrope and geranium
Lilies clambering up through palms gave me more than one photographic Georgia O'Keeffe moment and heavily scented stocks (Matthiola incana) added to the perfume although eventually I reached sensory overload and had to move on. All of these can be grown outdoors in the garden in the summer. (Although a neighbour here in NW5 has freesias in bloom in a sunny spot under her window as I type!)
I admit that I hadn't expected the gardens to offer so much of a sensory treat this early in the gardening year but there's always something to take away from a garden visit whatever the time of year. In my case that was literally true as I came away with a haul of useful pollinator plants plus some low maintenance/high visual plants for my mum's garden. More importantly, I found so much inspiration for transitioning 'spring into summer'/'shade into light' planting, no matter what size a garden is - an invaluable resource for a fledgling garden designer.
There are heaps more photos which I haven't found room for here so, if interested, have a look at my Flickr slideshow and I strongly recommend a visit soon - I've pencilled my next visit into the diary already.
We've definitely been spoiled this past week - a bank holiday and good weather. The British climate can sometimes spring us a nice surprise. (Pun intended!) I've even wondered where I left the sun cream. A glance back over my fortnight would show some sorting of plants, a bit of seed sowing and copious amounts of time cobbling together fence barriers around the food garden.
Each raised bed was previously protected with 2ft high netting; even so, I spent a good hour cleaning the empty beds of animal poo (again). Whatever these creatures are, they've managed to get through the defences and leave evidence of their visits. Foxes are allegedly partial to eating worms so that's another reason to keep animals off the soil. It was time to devise a new system of defence.
Using a metal spike to make holes deep into the clay under my soil, I've bashed 6ft canes into the ground around the perimeter of the food garden and tied 3ft high netting or wire mesh to these. Including the height of the surrounding low wall, that will present a 4ft barrier to jump. Hopefully they won't bother, unless we have particularly athletic cats and foxes around our part of town. All that remains is to find a way of letting gardeners get easy access and I'll be ready for a trial run. Then I can start planting.
It will be with some trepidation that I remove the netting from around each bed but, on the plus side, the beds will be much more accessible for weeding and for small fingers to explore and plant. A few of the kids here are keen to help with the garden and even to have a patch of their own. Answering one of their questions during the week, I explained that the people who help in the garden get to share the produce. One of the children immediately volunteered to help with growing strawberries, raspberries and gooseberries. Funny that. Volunteers for carrots and potatoes were thinner on the ground. Ho ho, little do they know!
I've used whatever materials I had (apart from buying another 10 tall canes and a piece of expanding willow for the 'gate') and was gifted a 10 metre roll of coated chicken wire from a gardening neighbour. The veg patch island is 26 metres all around (about 86 feet) - that's quite a budget breaker, so the remaining fencing was recycled from around the beds and the gaps filled with some pond netting that I had. I noticed that bees can fly easily through the mesh but have to find a way over the netting. As you know, I'm very fond of my bees and hoverflies. The fence is currently about 50:50 mesh and netting so, if the fencing works, I'll invest in more coated mesh in the future. (And the netting can go over my brassicas.)
Meanwhile, let's have a look round the garden in early April. The daffs and cowslips are beginning to fade, the tulips planted Dec 2013 are open again (excellent spend of £5 for 50 supermarket bulbs!) and clumps of muscari, primulas, sweet scented violets and honeywort (Cerinthe) are providing a magnet for passing bees. As is the calabrese blossom left to go to seed. As the blossom is out on the plum trees, with other fruit not far behind, I'm hoping these bees will tarry awhile. Winter is definitely behind us and this is a good start to spring but let's not forget it could all still go pear shaped despite the warm sunshine of the past few days.
There's lots happening elsewhere in the garden but that will have to be for another post as the sun is shining, the fencing is finished and it's my day off so proper spade and fork gardening beckons!
Looking at fencing is a tad dull. Have a bee on calabrese flowers instead.
No wonder British gardeners are obsessed with the weather! This time last year there was snow on the ground, yet this past week has been dry, sunny and, at times, hot enough for (a British) summer. I even watered the veg patch yesterday evening - can't have my germinating seeds drying out. I took a risk and outdoor sowed spinach, lettuce, broad beans and beetroot last weekend, just on the off chance that temperatures weren't going to dip anytime soon, but I have a roll of fleece on standby just in case. If weather forecasts are to be believed, it seems London might have rain and lower temperatures by the end of next week - more 'normal' for this time of year but who knows what that is any more?
This week though, there have been lovely things: a chance find of Skye Gingell's book 'A Year in My Kitchen' in a charity shop (flavourful recipes for seasonally grown food), a gift from same charity shop of some Mottistone lettuce seeds and a wonderful spring walk around the Capel Manor grounds before settling in for a study day in the library. Mindful walking + books always feels good to me. Clubcard points have been converted into a subscription to Garden Answers mag so there's something to look forward to - the postman's knock is so much more exciting when the delivery includes a gardening magazine.
~ Early morning walk around the Capel Manor grounds ~
Some good ideas caught my eye at Capel: spring onions sown to line a path (love the shed!); willow canes woven together in the walled garden - I'm guessing for a bean or pea hurdle; canes tied to hazel poles for dahlias to grow through and a random selection of vintage cloches to protect growing veg. Just lovely.
I sowed a tray of sweet peas a few weeks back, they've germinated at different rates but are now 80% through. Unsurprisingly, the newest seeds have all come through, strong and healthy. I've been leaving them outside on my balcony during the day and even left them out overnight last night. One more set of leaves and they'll be pinched out and then planted shortly after, weather permitting. I've bought a large bundle of dried and lacquered willow sticks from Ikea - sold for indoor decoration but perfect for wigwams and cheaper than bamboo canes. In the garden, there's enough Cerinthe available to pick a few stems for a vase, here paired with flat leaf parsley from a huge mound that flourished throughout the mild winter. Home-grown flowers indoors really herald spring for me.
There have been some not so lovely things - my teenager has been off college with a flu-like illness for over a week (now better and every tissue in the house used up) and my computer keyboard was also ailing - the delete and space bar keys stopped working. Bit tricky that, but I've been making do with my iPad. All is well though as the keyboard was still in warranty and the Apple Store just swopped it over … with no waiting! That put a smile on my face.
The one thing that I really meant to get done (and didn't) was to write up a post to link to Lucy's tree following on her blog, Loose and Leafy. It's taken me ages to decide which tree to focus on; living five minutes from Hampstead Heath (humungous weeping willow) and visiting Capel Manor gardens (Wych elm, Amelanchier, Acer and crab apple) every week has given me quite a choice, and then there's my own fruit trees, plus a gorgeous potted nectarine in the Which? trial gardens … I've been thinking it over all week, made my decision, took photos and then missed the deadline for this, the first month. The information won't be wasted as I'll write it up anyway so that I can refer back to it next month, on the 7th. And now for a teaser: I wonder if anyone can guess which tree I chose to follow?
Not of the brussels variety, but sunflower sprouts! Seedheads were cut off the sunflowers in the autumn of last year and, as usual, left out to provide winter food for wildlife. Cue one exceptionally mild and extremely wet winter - and this is the result.
The seeds have sprouted! ...which demonstrates nicely why seeds should be grown in a relatively nutrient poor compost - all they need to get started is contained in the seed itself. So clever. Sunflowers don't like being transplanted so, if I'm to make use of these little plants, I'll have to act quickly to get them potted up. Or I could eat them. Sunflower sprouts are deliciously crunchy and nutritious in a salad but only at this sprouting stage before the first true leaves are formed.
During previous colder winters, all the seeds have vanished; I know there are plenty of sparrows, tits, starlings and a couple of wood pigeons (as well as the urban sky-rat variety of pigeon) flapping around the veg gardens so I conclude that the winter has been mild enough for them to forage elsewhere for food. Presumably on the berry-laden shrubs nearby.
Amazingly, today being Sunday, the sun is shining - and for the second morning in a row! Raspberry canes were cut back yesterday and I'm about to do more work in the veg garden today. I have the rather onerous task of clearing the beds of fox/cat poo, clearing off all the top soil because of that, topping up the beds and netting them off with chicken wire. Hopefully that will keep animals out because, frankly, I don't fancy eating root veg grown in what's in there at the moment. Eeeeuuuwww.
Two days ago, on popping down to the gardens, I was astonished by the sight of the blossom on the fruit trees. The warm sunshine had brought on a display that would have done a bridal florist proud. Waves of foaming white blossom graced both cherry trees; the apple blossom, although less prolific, was equally beautiful.
Yesterday, as with the rest of the UK, we were hit by gale force winds. These have eased very slightly for today but I'm anticipating that there won't be much blossom left by the end of the weekend so I'm pleased that I took these photos for posterity. Only time will tell if the flowers were pollinated in time to produce fruit this summer. The pears and plums had already lost their blossom so I remain slightly hopeful of some of the trees producing.
For the past few years we've had a blast of warm weather followed by April showers and May gales. I remember planting out my beans and sweet corn a couple of years ago after weeks of warm sunshine. The next day they were decimated by gale force winds and lashing rain and I had to resow. This year, I'm being more cautious - I still have lots of seedlings on my balcony. They must go into the garden soon so, once the winds have died down, a nice bout of British late spring weather will do me nicely - and by that I mean cooler temperatures - around 12C (54F) - and plenty of showers. I've appreciated the warm sunshine while it lasted but now it would be nice to return to a gentle move towards summer. Well, a gardener can dream ... this is British weather, after all. (And Chelsea flower show starts in 10 days which is pretty well guaranteed to mix the weather up!)
The warm weather over the last week or so has sent gardeners into a frenzy of seed sowing and transplanting, by all internet accounts. I have not been immune to this as I've previously delayed sowing anything, instead enjoying the relaxed calm of being unable to plant anything out, bar my broad beans and hardy herbs. This week though, my waking thoughts are concerned with which seeds I can quickly sow before work or in my lunch break, I calculate which plants can be planted out in the hour after work and before dusk falls. I'm constantly poking my fingers deep into the soil in seed trays to make sure they're correctly watered. There's a huge amount of seeds to sow and plants to go out and this has coincided with the start of college's summer term, assignments to be completed ready to hand in and a visit to two trade nurseries, as well as digging over and planting up a small shady border at the road end of the garden.
I've taken photos and composed posts in my head but have had no spare time to write anything; so, today, I have resolved to try and master the art of the quick blog post so that I can post more often and keep up with all that's happening. Well, that's the theory anyway!
And today's photo? Well that's a sweet pea (Lathyrus odoratus as I have to practise Latin names), growing on my balcony since last year and behaving like a perennial. It was a pathetic spindly thing that never died at the end of last summer but, as it still had green leaves, I didn't have the heart to pull it out. I've had greenery all through the winter months and now it's about to flower again. It's a subtle creamy coloured flower called 'Swan Lake' and very welcome as a sign of the muddled up weather we've had, growing among the mini daffodils, muscari, violas and herbs in my balcony window box.
My favourite thing at the weekend is to take five minutes to think through the day ahead before getting out of bed. (Once up, the reality of running a household can derail my objectives so it helps to have a plan already in place.) Earlier this morning, still in bed, toasty and warm, eyes closed, I could hear that yesterday's gale force freezing winds had died down so the day seemed full of potential.
Having lost all of last weekend to a flu-like virus, I thought of all that could be done over the next two days. First, I wanted to visit the RHS Grow Your Own show at Wisley, followed by a brisk walk round the gardens. Second, was to get into the veg garden, dig over and replant the herb bed, plant out the two edible shrubs and raspberry canes recently bought and start to cut back the enormously overgrown shrubs in the middle border. That was enough to be going on with so I got up, full of optimism, and drew the curtains ... to be met with a view of thickly falling snow settling on the hedges.
Yesterday I noticed long drifts of opening daffodils throughout the college grounds in tune with the Spring equinox three days ago. This morning, Siberian winds have taken the UK back into winter. Surely it's time the wintry weather was over?
I won't be doing any digging today!
I walked down to the garden to take a few snaps for posterity. There was more slush than snow but freezing easterly winds had created ice drops on the leaf tips of shrubs. Since then it's been snowing heavily all day and is just, mid-afternoon, starting to settle.
Out of interest, I looked back over what I'd written in March of previous years. Last year the weather had become clement enough to have a nine hour tidying stint outdoors; I wrote about planting herbs and that garlic shoots were growing well. In 2011, I was thrilled to discover my pear trees thick with blossom and harvested Romanesco cauliflowers for my supper. 2010 saw the first of my spring posts as we'd started the veg patch in the previous year. I wrote about my trip to Sarah Raven's Perch Hill farm and Derek Jarman's Prospect Cottage, clear blue skies and eating baby spinach, beetroot and spring onions from the garden and seeing the Broccoli Raab florets forming. I remember that the entrance fee to Perch Hill was waived as the garden wasn't as advanced as expected for the time of year and rain had recently fallen so other visitors had a right old time trying to unstick their vehicles from the oozing mud in the car parking field.
I wrote about chilly winds at the beginning of March in all three previous years so perhaps this Spring isn't so different, although I don't think it was this cold. Could warmer weather be just around the corner for this year as well? Gosh, I hope so!
Two weeks ago, as I retraced my steps around the walled garden at Capel Manor, I spotted this little bee getting busy on a potted Scorpion Vetch next to the greenhouse. As it's early in the visiting season, I was alone in the garden and able to sit quietly watching. It's moments like this that let me know that spring is surely just around the corner. Each bright day now I want to be doing things in the garden. For me, it's a physical pull to be outside and really hard to resist when there are things that need to be done elsewhere.
Back in the York Rise veg patch, I was very pleased to see that a French Tarragon plant had survived the winter thus far due to being igloo-ed under a clear plastic storage box back in December. It's unbelievably exciting to see the garden coming back to life and quite a relief to see new shoots appearing on plants that were largely abandoned to fend for themselves. My perennials - wild garlic, herbs, aquilegias, monarda, geums, poppies, polemonium and lilies - are all putting up new growth and buds are showing on the fruit trees. Old raspberry canes have been chopped out as the new canes push through at the base and raised beds have been topped up with fresh compost in readiness for the new season.
I'm catching up with college work today (sadly, indoors) but plan to spend as much time as possible in the garden over the weekend, testing out my new pruning saw on the next overgrown border and collecting organic material from the City Farm to mulch the raspberry canes. It doesn't sound like much but, my goodness, I'm looking forward to it! Let's hope the weather stays dry for us all.
I love the synchronicity of the gardening world; bloggers are commenting on the first signs of spring, trees beginning to bud, bulbs pushing through the soil and anxiously hoping that a harsh but late winter isn't waiting just around the corner. I'm not going to offer an opinion on the weather as it has a nasty habit of contradicting me soon after I've published my thoughts.
But I'm no different from other gardeners in getting hopeful of an early spring. Today, as I peeked out onto my balcony, I was excited to notice this tiny little patch of new growth. This is French Tarragon, new to the balcony last year and frankly, a bit spindly in it's first year. I thought it had died but resolved to wait until spring to make sure. Now it looks as though it will be a good, sturdy addition to the herbs at my disposal - even if it is still only one inch tall. And in case the weather turns, I have a cut down water bottle as an impromptu cloche to protect the plant if needed.
Other bloggers' posts have reminded me that I have to sow onion seed and broad beans now. (Actually, like Jo at The Good Life, I intensely disliked broad beans as a child but I'm tempted by some rather beautiful pink beans I've spotted on the internet.) Also, I couldn't find the white onion sets I wanted and one bulb had run to seed late last year so I rather laboriously dried the seed head and saved the seed. It will be the first time I've grown onions from seed, so an interesting challenge lies ahead. I may even have to invest in a little balcony sized wooden greenhouse I've seen - I think I'm going to need it now my seed list is nearly finished!
~ Snowball white onion seeds - sorting the seeds from the chaff. ~
Hi everyone! Hope you didn't think that we'd been defeated by winter frosts and given up. No, no! not a bit of it; just biding our time in the cold, very much like our little winter plants.
But things are definitely on the move again. A couple of weekends with skies like this:
…encouraged a Spring tidy up (despite bitterly cold winds!). For me, it was an awesome Eureka!-type moment to discover that my Raab actually has little broccoli type florets (a feat attributable to nature rather than nurture):
And, if you'll just humour me for a tiny second, allow me to show off a little:
Kale
Garlic
(need to plant more very very soon. This lot will not be enough!)
Spinach
(Baby spinach at the moment, yum.)
And, at the end of the day, a few beetroots, spring onions (a bit weather-beaten) and parsley destined for the cooking pot.
So now we have new parsley shooting through with room to breathe, white onions, red onions, garlic, spinach, kale, raab, blue radishes. Peas, French beans and Broad Beans have been started off indoors. Sweet Peas (for colour, scent and structure - free from Gardener's World!) likewise. The mini-orchard will be budding soon - can't wait! - and the blueberries are potted up in lovely Morroccan blue glazed pots which we scooped up at bargain reduced prices Last Winter. (Haha - said as if it was sooo long ago!)
This time last year I wouldn't have said I was that interested in veg gardening (perhaps a few herbs) but now I think I may be getting a teeny bit obsessed. Seed catalog(ue)s abound and I'm subscribing to the aforementioned Gardeners' World (good old Tesco points) and occasionally treating myself to the entirely gorgeous, inspirational (and aspirational) Gardens Illustrated.
Anyway, if I can tear myself away from thoughts and deeds of planting, I hope to be back with you all on a more regular basis. See you soon!
