Catching up with myself

I feel an explanation is warranted.

This year, with the Blog of the Year winner’s trophy sitting on a nearby shelf at home, I’ve been shamefully neglectful of putting time aside to write.  Sometimes, the muse just disappears or there’s little to tell; but this time I actually have a few good reasons for my absence here.

15 Practical and beautiful ideas from The Skip Garden

While writing about the imminent closure of The Skip Garden in Kings Cross, I felt a twang of nostalgia looking back through the seven years of photos that I'd taken during my visits.  It's a garden that I'm familiar with, and it hasn't changed much over the past four years, but I still get a buzz of excitement as I head towards the gates.

There's always something new to see, small or large - whether it's bird boxes made during a workshop, different crops in the skips, fresh ceramics, or a parquet floor patio made from scaffolding boards. Totally inspiring, unexpectedly beautiful.

This year the chicken house/coop had gone, in its place stood an intriguing incomplete new structure and newly built empty wooden planters waiting to be filled. I assume the planters were destined for a local business as the gardeners are hands on in the local community. There were also several planters of herbs by the kitchen patio - I love a herb patch and looked to see what was thriving in the sunshine. And immediately added it to my list of practical and beautiful ideas from The Skip Garden that I'm sharing below.

Return to The Skip Garden

I, We and The Planet.

Those five powerful words underpin the work of Global Generation, the charity bringing youth, community and enterprise together in London. Why am I writing about this? Well, with everything that's happening in the world today, those words seem particularly relevant - and I visited their flagship Skip Garden in Kings Cross last week.

I make an annual pilgrimage to the Skip Garden - it's a short walk from where I have my car MOT done and the kitchen café serves a fine coffee and freshly-made food. But it's all about to change, again.

How to use fresh calendula to make a soothing oil

Let me say right now that I've only just made this for the first time because it sounded so lovely. Calendula (pot marigold) has so many uses; not only is it a cheerful, pretty flower with edible petals, it's also a good companion plant in the garden deterring hornworm (the caterpillar that may eat/destroy tomato plants) and it's known to be beneficial for skin complaints.  Combine it with the moisturising and antioxidant qualities of olive oil (or sweet almond oil) and you have an effective natural remedy for cuts, grazes, sunburn or for soothing dry skin.

Ranunculus: A buttercup by any name

I'm a real sucker for those bags of bulbs that drop into the shops in autumn. When there's daffodils, tulips, grape hyacinths and anemones to look forward to in spring, the winter months almost dwindle away.  It's the promise of all that colour after the monochrome of winter.

Beginner's guide to: potting on tomato seedlings

I was deliberately late in sowing tomato seeds this year (hellooo urban flat, shady interiors, minimal windowsill space). A good decision as it turns out because all seeds germinated leaving me with 63 tomato seedlings to find room for. (Now 58 as I culled a few.)

So I had 5 or 6 seedlings in each small 9cm pot that needed to be potted on into individual pots. Doing this gives each plant more root room to grow and should be done when the seedling has its first true leaves. (Plants that aren't potted on quickly enough will adapt to the smaller environment and never reach their full potential.)

I love the smell of elderflowers in the morning

... particularly when that smell indicates elderflower cordial being made for summer!

It's easy to lose track of how quickly the seasons advance at this time of year.  May has been typically unsettled weather-wise so I was delighted to see elderflowers starting to open as I walked home a fortnight ago.  Luckily, I walked that route again last Thursday and saw that there are now enough blooms to make elderflower cordial.

I've written about making elderflower cordial before - and how to correctly identify the right tree to pick from - so this post is by way of a reminder for anyone who wants to make delicious cordial before the blooms fade ... unless you have your heart set on elderberries for wine!

It was a stroke of luck seeing those elderflowers as I usually walk far and wide over Hampstead Heath in search of them.  My favoured patch was felled during repairs to the Heath ponds a couple of years ago and then last year I recall being concerned about the amount of sugar needed for the recipe so didn't make any.

It was a decision I came to regret during the extreme heat of the summer - a glass of iced water sweetened with a slug of citrus infused cordial hits the spot nicely on a hot day. So this weekend I bought sugar, dug out my recipe and went out this morning with my trusty secateurs to collect the bounty.

I've included my recipe below as I think it's an easy one and got very confused when I first tried to make elderflower cordial. Mine is an adaptation of several that I've used and tweaked year on year. (I now never use lime.) But first, a few tips.

Tip one:  Most recipes will include citric acid as a preservative - I don't bother.  As I found it hard to get hold of at first, I now keep one bottle of cordial in the fridge and freeze the rest in small plastic bottles saved from the smoothies I buy when out. I think that the addition of citric acid may alter the flavour and the cordial might not taste as nice.

Tip Two: Look carefully for aphids before you pick the flowers.  I found some stems covered in the sort of black aphids usually found on broad beans and left those blooms well alone.  Even so, when I got home, I made sure to gently shake the blooms over the sink to dislodge any other critters.  (A few black aphids, greenfly and a couple of small spiders, thanks.)  Having done that, I then held the blooms over a white tea towel for a second look; it was needed.

Tip Three:  There may be some tempting plate sized blooms below knee level just begging to be picked. Don't.  Wherever you live, there will be creatures that wee. In my case, dogs and foxes.  (I hope that's all but let's not go there.)  My advice is to pick the blooms that you have to stretch up high for, just to be on the safe side.

My simple but trusted recipe for Elderflower Cordial

3 unwaxed lemons
1 or 2 oranges
1 kg (2.2 lbs) granulated sugar
15-20 medium to large elderflower heads
1.5 litres tap water (50 US fluid ounces)

First stage:

1. In a large pot on the stove, make a sugar syrup by slowly dissolving the sugar in the water over a gently heat.  Stir occasionally and once dissolved (no more sugar grains to be seen), bring the syrup to the boil for about 5 minutes.
2. While that's doing, peel or finely grate the oranges and lemons. The white pith is bitter so try to leave that on the fruit.  (I have a julienne peeler which does the job perfectly. Link here to show what it is, I'm not an Amazon affiliate.) 
3. Cut the big stems off the cleaned/shaken elderflowers and put the flowers in a large pot or saucepan with the citrus peel.
4. Pour the hot syrup over when it's ready.  Put a lid on the pan and leave to infuse for 24 - 36 hours.

Next day/stage:

1. Sterilise bottles or jars ready to decant the mixture into. Giving plastic bottles a good hot wash will suffice if they're going into the freezer. Glass bottles can be washed and then dried on a low temperature in the oven for 10 minutes.  As a time saver before now, I've washed and then microwaved glass jars to sterilise (but not the metal lids - please!)  Lids should be boiled in a pan of water for a few minutes.
2. Sieve the infused cordial through a muslin cloth or tea towel, placed in a sieve over a bowl or large jug. I now use a jelly bag held securely in it's frame, so much easier! (Here, for info.)
3. Pour the cordial into the bottles, and store as appropriate.  

... Or drink straightaway!

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It's all about the tiny tomatoes this year

One of the great joys of having a balcony - even a tiny one - is having just enough space for a few planters and pots for salad leaves, herbs and now ... tomatoes. (And maybe just a few flowers, especially if they're edible!)

Summer 2018 - Balcony bush tomato

Last summer, as usual, I used the balcony to sow, grow and pot on my tomato plants into 10 litre pots (15 litres might have been better) with the intention of moving them down to the veg patch after hardening off.  As they grew, and I appreciated the ease of watering them in last summer's heatwave, I could see how well they responded to the warmth and attention they got by being close to hand.  There was no problem with weekly feeding (#feedonfriday) as I had everything I needed nearby.  And, once they started fruiting, I loved that I could pop outside and pick a few cherry tomatoes to add to a salad - or to eat as a quick snack - without interrupting my work for long.

Even in those 10 litre pots I had a selection of tomatoes to pick from all summer long.  One bush cherry tomato plant gave up its last fruit in mid November, although that was probably a fluke given the hot summer and extended warm autumn we had here in the UK.

So now I'm hooked. There will be balcony tomatoes again this year - some small, some tall - but they're all suitable for growing in pots, containers or 'a windowsill garden' which I think sounds rather charming. I'll fit as many as I can on the balcony and, if they all germinate, pop a few next to the veg patch and hopefully have some to give away.

Sowing and growing with peat free Dalefoot compost

I've only just sown the seeds, putting up to 6 seeds of each variety in a 9cm pot filled with Dalefoot Wool Compost for Seeds. When they've got their first set of true leaves, the tomato babies can be pricked out into individual 9cm pots of Dalefoot Wool Compost for Veg and Salads.  Once the roots fill those pots, I'll pot them on into a size bigger pot and then into the final plant pot when first flowers appear.

I'm really quite excited to reach that final planting out stage as I've been gifted a bag of Dalefoot's new Wool Compost for Tomatoes. The nutrient rich compost has been formulated so that there is 'No Need to Feed' (awesome) through the entire season, plus with 50% less watering thanks to the wool content, there are time and ecological savings there too. Hot summer or not, using less water is a positive step for the planet's dwindling resources.

I've been impressed with Dalefoot products in the past so I'm confident that this latest addition to the Dalefoot canon will deliver on its promises. They're now fully accredited by the Soil Association for their organic peat free composts; not only that but the company are actively involved in work to restore peat bogs. What I hadn't fully understood was the extent to which removing peat from the land contributes to climate change and, by leaving peat in place, water quality is maintained and natural flood prevention prevails. Sounds to me like a compelling reason to use peat free compost. But I digress ...

My tiny tomato choices for 2019

There's plenty of time (until the end of May) to sow tomatoes, bearing in mind that freshly picked will always taste better than shop bought, plus you get that lovely smell from the (slightly poisonous) leaves.  (No? Just me, then.)

These are the plants that I'm growing.

• Cherry Falls, Mr Fothergill's - 'perfect for outside baskets and tubs'
• Balconi Red,  Thompson & Morgan - 'plant height 12", very sweet, for indoor and outdoor cropping'
• Minibel from Johnsons - 'very compact, outdoor plants ideal for patio pots' 
• Lizzano F1, Marshalls - 'Prolific cropping hanging basket variety' - perfectly shaped to fill and spill.
• Rainbow Blend, T&M, as above - 'early ripening, good crop throughout the summer'. But here's an anomaly I didn't spot before: the pack says plant height 8" but the website tells me the plant grows to 200cm or 78.7 inches. Curious. Also, 5 seeds for £3.69? I must have had my head in the clouds on that day but at 74p a seed, they'd better all germinate!
• Red Currant, Dobies Rob Smith Heritage Veg range - 'very disease resistant tiny tomatoes. Good tolerance to cooler temperatures'. Hardly changed since found growing wild on a Peruvian beach in 1707 but, oh dear, another cordon that I missed. Will grow to 1.5 or 2 metres. But still okay in a pot. That's alright then.

And these, all from Marshalls, in a press pack from the Garden Press Event:

• Patio Plum - a baby plum with 'bite' and 'sharp acidic flesh that gives a real kick'
• Summerlast F1 - one for the patio or window-garden, late blight resistance. Harvest by the punnet!
• Arielle F1 - 'Grow your own sun dried tomatoes'. Fruits will dry on the vine if not harvested, and start to look like raisins.  Or sun-dried tomatoes. Also a cordon, grows to 4ft.

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For clarity: Apart from the Thompson & Morgan seeds which I bought when drifting through the shop at Kew Gardens, all the other packets were given to me to trial after chatting to the companies at the Garden Press Event.
I'm not affiliated to any of the companies so when I review the plants at the end of the year, my opinions will be entirely impartial.

A Sunday stroll around the Veg Patch

A quick blog post from me this chilly but sunny Sunday morning as I have strawberries to plant and a herb garden to sort out.

Huge sage in a pot at the southern end of the veg patch this morning

We've certainly had some weather this week - warm sunshine, chill winds, blue skies, grey skies, rain and even hail, all in the last few days. There may have been thunder at one point. I keep humming that Disney song about April Showers and hoping for another warm summer like last year.

I woke early to a chill, blue-ish sky sort of day and, given recent unpredictable weather, thought I'd start with a stroll around the veg patch with my camera. A lot can happen in a week and I've not spent much time there as I've been planting up the new layout of the other garden I look after, the Car Park Garden, a space that I can actually look out onto.

So what's happened while my eyes were averted? The veg patch is looking lovely having positively burst into blossom. Chive and wild garlic buds are shooting up, peony stems are now about 12 inches high, sweet cicely herb is in flower, and lovage and comfrey are growing with a vengeance. I say vengeance because both really need to be kept in check. 

There was a lot of colour from spring flowers (although the tulips have mostly come up blind this year and the daffs are pretty much finished), a few bees and ladybirds, and a surprise in the form of my first asparagus spears popping their heads up.  It won't be long before I'm enjoying fresh purple spears with a poached egg for breakfast - yum! It seems early for asparagus but it's only a week ahead of last year, when we'd already had a couple of weeks of very warm weather to tempt the spears into action.

Purple broccoli has now finished. I was buzzed by several bees as I dug them up - they'd been enjoying the flowers but I need to clear the space for this year's crops. And I've left a kale plant to flower for them. I'll collect the kale seeds to grow some micro greens later on.

As expected, the Morello cherry trees are now smothered in white blossom, as are the pear and quince trees. Some calm weather to encourage pollinators to linger would be good but with a ground level nectar bar from forget me nots, honeywort, honesty, achillea and erysimum flowers to feed on, would they notice the clouds of blossom above?

I spotted the Honesty (Lunaria annua) seedlings last summer and gave them room to grow.  Lunaria was introduced to the garden a few years ago because I love the papery seed pods at the end of the year and bees love the flowers. And as they're a biennial, the plants flower much earlier than annuals - one way to have a succession of flowers in the garden!

A little bit of Honesty ... 

I'm very behind with seed sowing but now that warmer weather is promised (at least for the next couple of weeks), I'll be opening up the seed box this week and possibly also planting out my overwintered sweet peas.  It's supposed to be 19°C/69°F by next weekend - I don't want to tempt fate but I think I'll leave my sunhat within easy reach.

Gardening is one way to a brain-healthy lifestyle - who knew?

I'm currently reading a book called '100 days to a Younger Brain'. So what's that got to do with growing veg, you may ask?  On many levels, gardening is good for you but I hadn't realised that this pastime was helping to keep my brain in tip top shape.

Forget-me-Nots ... an appropriate flower for this post?

After skimming through the salient chapters in the book,  (I will go back and read it properly but first wanted to get straight to the nitty gritty), it seems that if we want to slow or reverse cognitive decline in our dotage, we need to adopt a brain-healthy lifestyle with regular exercise, optimal amounts of sleep and stress, social engagement, mental stimulation, and a moderately healthy diet. I simplify, of course, but it reminds me of how my lifestyle has changed through gardening and engaging with the gardening community. I've learnt so much and have a better diet and more positive outlook as a result.

It's not the first time the wisdom of this sort of healthy lifestyle has been touted around but I hadn't realised to what extent this, or lack of it, affects our brains as we age.  A classic case of not seeing the obvious until it's pointed out - but I do love some solid advice wrapped up in a bit of neuro-scientific nerdery.

Having lost both parents to age-related illness and dementia, I'm increasingly aware of the moments when instant recall fails me, such as having a plant's botanical name on the tip of my tongue or remembering a person's face but not their name. (Awkward.) It's beyond frustrating and sometimes just a tad worrying.  Reading this book has also made me question the extent of my parents' diagnosis and whether a few changes might have made a small difference to their last years. It's also given me a boot up the bum to improve a couple of areas in my own lifestyle - move more, walk more, drink more. (As tempting as that sounds, I mean water not gin.)

The author, a research psychologist, offers practical advice to slow, halt or reverse signs of deteriorating brain health and how to build resilience against disease through healthy lifestyle choices. Scarily, our brains have already started to atrophy at age 30 (who knew?) but that decline accelerates once we reach 60 by which time we've potentially lost up to a third of our brains anyway.  Crikey. The good news is that even if our brains have shrunk to the size of a small coconut, physical exercise and stimulating environments will help to increase the brain's abilities to learn, remember and function, thereby potentially counteracting diseases such as dementia.

And that's where gardening comes into play - for me, at least.

Being outside gives me social contact with my neighbours; lugging compost and plant pots strengthens my bones; weeding, sowing and hoeing keeps me supple; proximity to nature and the seasons promotes mindfulness and calm. Even writing this blog is keeping my brain active!

So far, so reassuring. Now I just have to work on taking regular breaks from screen time (a quick walk round the garden or run up and down the three flights of stairs to my front door?) and to drink more water.  Sometimes I literally forget to drink. This week though I've had a jug of water on my desk and manage a litre a day plus tea and coffee! As a result I'm feeling less tired in the evenings and sleeping soundly. Result.

The best though is that during regular breaks, I wander onto the balcony to think about the garden, or stroll down to the veg patch to see what's occurring - often coming back with some herbs or veg for lunch. Communing with nature, exercise and a healthy lunch? Three more boxes ticked!

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I learnt of this book through a blog I subscribe to, The Age Well Project and then, intrigued, I bought it.  This is the link to the relevant post, 'Can laughter help you live longer?'

March in the veg patch garden

Regular as clockwork - blossom on the plum tree. 

Tonight the clocks go forward in the UK, heralding the start of British Summer Time. Tomorrow I'll wake as usual at 7am and change the hands on all the clocks to 8am and feel that the day has stolen a march on me.  It's all very unsettling but, despite my curmudgeonly attitude, at least I'll feel one step closer to summer!

The first quince blossom this year

Now that April is only a day or two away, the garden is really coming alive.  Mostly with flowers, to be fair, but when those flowers are sparkling on the pear and plum trees, you know you can start to get excited. There's even one small blossom bud on the quince tree planted at the northern end of the veg patch; the other quince (a patio variety in a pot) has never flowered and I'll be pleasantly surprised if I see any blooms this year.  I'm not sure why it's never flowered but no flowers means no fruit.  More feeding is needed I guess.

And so to rhubarb. Choosing the best cultivar is key; I've already indulged in some delicious stewed rhubarb a few weeks ago thanks to a friend who grows a large patch of Timperley Early and, serendipitously for me, doesn't like rhubarb!  Regular readers may remember that I got rid of my Glaskins Perpetual clump last year. It was too big and too green - but fantastic if you want stems for most of the year.  I like a nice red stem (a must for fruit fools or stewed fruit) so pinned my hopes on a new Siruparber plant from Lubera in Switzerland as well as the two Red Champagne plants struggling to survive under the apple trees.

Red Champagne rhubarb - and a matching tulip

In the past few weeks I'd convinced myself that the Siruparber was a goner as there was nothing to indicate where it had been last year, but this week I've spotted a couple of tiny leaves poking up and quickly put a wire basket over the top for protection against fox cubs.  The Champagne plants have produced a towering flower stem in the past, (not a good thing for rhubarb), clearly demonstrating that they are Not Happy.  And this is where you learn by doing - I'd read that rhubarb could be grown in light shade ... or apparently not in this case. I have two Champagne crowns so one will be carefully dug up and moved into the light - or as much as it can get with a four storey block of flats in close proximity on either side of the veg patch. (The patch gets around 6 hours of sun on a good day, which is fine for most veg and annuals.)

Cerinthe / Honeywort
Lamprocapnos / Bleeding Heart
Borage / Starflower

I do think colour is so lush in spring - I have primulas, cowslips, daffodils, forget-me-nots, tulips and muscari (grape hyacinths) to keep bees happy. I've only seen a couple so far but they'll buzz over once they know the nectar bar is open. This year self-seeded Cerinthe (honeywort) and Borage are blooming under the fruit trees - perfectly placed for pollinators - and one or two calendula plants have over-wintered. I don't even mind that the purple sprouting broccoli has finished and started to flower.  It's possibly the prettiest time in the veg patch and all part of the circle of life.

Last year's tulips return. Did I put those colours together?

Lessons learned from last year and what you can do in March

Having resolved not to be overly hasty in seed sowing, I sat outside on a bench on Thursday with my eyes closed, my face lifted to the warm sun and pondered the big question at this time of year, 'Is it warm enough to start sowing?'.

Sometimes I think it could be but, on the other hand, I had my hot water bottle out two nights ago and this morning the wind is battering my windows. Typically for March, the weather is completely unpredictable and makes me long for a sturdy greenhouse where I could raise hardy seedlings. (And shelter from the weather!)

Realistically, I know it's best to keep to my plan to sow direct next month but I've been re-reading Charles Dowding's 'Veg Journal' - the man is such an inspiration - in which he suggests sowing spinach indoors, 2 or 3 seeds to a module or small pot, and then planting out in 5 weeks time, ie mid-April when the weather will hopefully be less turbulent. Ditto for beetroot and leeks, which is a good reminder for me as I always forget to sow leeks in time and then worry as their skinny little stems look so fragile if the weather gets too hot ... or cold ... or windy.

But, before this season of veg growing starts in earnest ...

What have I learned from last year?

Baby Boo squash: A lovely creamy white on the vine but have yellowed over the winter months indoors. 

Every year is different and there's always something new to learn. What works one year may not work the next so it's good to look back and take stock before starting off again on your gardening journey.

• Write it down! I always start off well, recording seed sowing dates in a notebook or cheap diary but often forget to record transplanting or harvest dates. This year I'm inspired by The Green Conspiracy's garden planner where each vegetable is recorded on it's own page so its progress can be easily tracked. The planner is being produced in Germany after a successful Kickstarter campaign to fund the first printing and looks to be amazing for new growers. A printed planner is too expensive for me at around £30 (it needs to be replaced every year) so I'm buying the cheaper (£6) pdf version to see what it's all about.

• Last year I was super excited to grow Baby Boo squashes - seven of the cutest 4 inch wide white pumpkins from one plant. They were beautiful for natural autumn decorations but I was disappointed to find there was very little flesh inside. Last summer's heat (and lack of water) may be to blame but I'd rather play it safe with a different squash this year. (Possibly spaghetti squash which is delicious with butter.)
• What did work well was letting Baby Boo ramble through sweetcorn - a very symbiotic planting and worth repeating again this year. The squash leaves minimised moisture loss around the sweetcorn roots while the corn stalks gave the squash something to grab onto as the vines grew. Two sisters, rather than three. (This would also work with courgettes.)
• Will I bother with peas this year? No. Nor mange tout. I've thought long and hard about this but, if I'm honest, I'm happy with frozen peas and the mange tout weren't plentiful enough to bother with in my small space patch. But I will be keeping my eyes open for varieties that claim to produce prolific crops and might grow a few in large pots.  When you've not much space, it pays to be practical as well as considering alternatives like container growing to expand on available space.
• Always grow kale.  In 2017, I let a Cavolo Nero plant go to seed (the bees love the flowers); one tiny seed dropped and grew through the 2017/18 winter and produced leaves from early summer onwards. It's now taller than me and still growing (just starting to flower but the flower stalks are edible) - must have saved me a fortune in the shops!
• Always grow Purple Sprouting Broccoli (PSB). Not only is it expensive to buy but gathering home grown vegetables from the garden in the depths of winter (even a mild one) feels like a real treat. The same is true of kale, leeks, parsnips and sprouts. And I get to feel very smug that I have fresh psb growing and looking so much perkier than the ageing produce in the shops.
• I experimented with turning my metre square asparagus bed into a square foot planter - I divided the space into a grid of nine square foot spaces and put one plant in each of the squares not already occupied with an asparagus crown. I planted tomatoes in between the asparagus fronds as they make good companions; it nearly worked except that a neighbouring redcurrant bush partly shaded the tomatoes. The small plum tomatoes did well, the beefsteak toms were still trying to ripen at the first frosts! A stupid mistake on my part. This year I'll put the tomatoes next to a sunny wall and plant calendula and spinach around the asparagus.
• Don't forget the verticals.  Every year I regret the lack of a sturdy arch. My cheap metal arches lasted two seasons before toppling in gusting winds but oh how I loved seeing beans climbing up and over the top. This year I want to try again with growing luffas and Malabar climbing spinach. The search for how to build a sturdy structure is on.
• Say yes to salad onions. I used a lot in cooking last year and they take up very little room. I'm thinking of lining a section of the veg patch path with them. I'll also sow some around the edge of my carrots as I find this helps to keep carrot root fly away. Or maybe I just don't get carrot root fly. Works for me, anyway.
• Don't panic if you haven't mulched. Recent research suggests that if a thick mulch (minimum 5cm) is applied one year, it can be skipped the next. The same research also advised mixing the mulch 50:50 with garden soil or compost as too rich a soil can make plants sappy and weak. Personally, I never have enough mulch for a thick layer so tickle a thin layer into the top layer of soil in the veg beds and put a thicker layer around perennials (like rhubarb and raspberries) and fruit trees.

Here’s what you can do in March: 

There are no hard and fast rules for when to sow - what matters is warmth and light. Waking early yesterday, I noticed that in south-east UK we're now getting a good twelve hours of daylight but the weather is still chilly at night and wet/windy during the day. In his book, Charles Dowding suggests that vegetable seeds fall into three categories - cool, medium and warm temperature veg. Cool-type seeds can be sown outside once temperatures are consistently above 5°C/41°F (roughly now in the UK) but will rot if the weather turns wet and cold before they successfully germinate. Anything sown direct in the last couple of days here would have got washed away. The warm seed category (tomatoes, chillies, etc) need to be germinated and raised with heat above 64°F/18°C so tend to be raised under cover.

Outdoors: 

• Plant garlic cloves, onion sets, and potatoes. I'll also be replanting some oca saved from last year's harvest. 
• Sow broad beans, radish, spinach, sorrel, peas for shoots, parsnips, brassicas (broccoli, calabrese, cauliflower).  
• Edible flowers - try sowing nasturtiums and calendula now. Self seeded borage is about to flower in my veg patch which tells me that the soil is warm enough to grow things. And I have so many violets in flower that I might try moving a small clump.
• If the daytime weather forecast for my area comes true (58°F/15°C), a first sowing of medium temp veg seeds might be possible - carrots, spring onions, winter lettuce - but would need fleecing against wind and lower nighttime temps. Probably best to wait a while longer. 
• Weeds - take them out while they're tiny otherwise they'll be soon be hogging light, water and nutrients intended for the plants you do want. 

Indoors/under glass: 

I haven't sown anything yet but will get going over the next few weeks with germinating the following on warm windowsills in seed trays.

• chillies, 
• tomatoes, 
• peppers 
• aubergines 

I'll be sowing pea shoots and micro leaves indoors and beetroot can also be sown into modules - I use this lovely paper pot maker * as I can plant the whole module when the time is right with less root disturbance.

And while I wait for the right time to start sowing, I'm going to be enjoying all the gorgeous spring flowers in the garden.

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* Disclosure - the paper pot maker was gifted to me last year by Burgon and Ball but I genuinely love it, finding it easy to use, efficient, and perfectly suited to my as-plastic-free-as-possible lifestyle.

Come into the garden! Spring thoughts about an urban veg patch

Hello again, I'm back. Did you miss me? Well I've only been outside in the garden. I've had a winter break from blogging to sort out both the veg patch and the second garden under my window - and read, amongst other things. It was a wonderfully relaxing time but now, with the weather getting warmer, it's time to get back to business.

Coming up in future posts are new products seen at last week's Garden Press Event (it was a good one!), my thoughts on how and why to spark joy in your garden, what to grow in containers, and a couple of book reviews. Busy, busy.

But, to welcome readers back into this space, let's see what's been happening here.  Spring is definitely underway, even if temperatures plummet to a March norm from now on (lashing rain and cold winds as I write); in the garden rhubarb stalks are appearing, purple sprouting broccoli is regularly on the menu, first pickings of chives and wild garlic are almost ready, quince major has its first spring leaves, rosemary is blooming, and flowerbeds are filled with colour from the usual spring fare of crocuses, hellebores, daffodils, primroses, violets, and honeywort. Okay, maybe that last one isn't usual but it shows how mild our winter has been.

You'd think that February's warm sunshine would have prompted some early sowing but, no, not for me. I read Allan Jenkins' book 'Plot 29, A Memoir' over Christmas; he sows all seeds direct into well mulched soil and believes that his plants are stronger for it (unless slugs get them first). That's how the first seeds were sown in the early Veg Patch years, and it's how I'm gardening this year, at the appropriate time, leaving my windowsills clear for tomato seedlings and micro leaves.

What will be growing in the balcony garden this year?

• Bush tomatoes and chillies
• Salad leaves 
• Herbs - curly and flat leaf parsley, coriander, mint, chives, maybe some thyme
• Spring onions (scallions)
• Scented pelargoniums

~ Last summer, on the balcony ~

I'm lucky to have the use of a larger growing space as well as my balcony but, even though my balcony is tiny, I still make the most of that small space. I love that certain plants are to hand - tomatoes, salad leaves, herbs - so, as usual, I'll continue to grow as much of those as I can fit onto the balcony in planters and pots.  

Balcony growing is not without it's challenges; my balcony is closed off on the south side so is shaded in the morning and very windy but I've found that parsley, chives and mint all do well. Cross winds can damage plants and wick moisture away from the soil so regular watering and feeding is important; last summer I watered every day, sometimes twice a day, (but always checking first to see what was needed) and was reminded to feed the plants with the hashtag #feedonfriday. 

But the absolute best thing last year was having several cherry tomato plants in pots on my balcony to pick at from July through to December. Seeds were sown later than usual in April, due to an extreme winter, and I also bought a couple of small plants from the garden centre (just to make sure I didn't go without!). It worked so well that I'm going to do the same this year.

What will be growing in the veg garden this year?

• Sweet corn and squash
• Asparagus and spinach (possibly Malabar, a climbing spinach-like alternative)
• Carrots and garlic
• French climbing beans and leeks
• Courgette and kales
• Broad beans, PSB and Brussels sprouts
• Strawberries, raspberries
• Redcurrants and sweet red gooseberries
• Sweet Peas
• ... and there will be flowers!

~ Wild Garlic at the end of February this year ~

All those seed catalogues are so tempting, aren't they? The descriptions conjure up visions of such deliciousness and beauty that my seed list can double after dipping into their pages. So far I've resisted the seed catalogues, preferring to think first about growing what I really enjoy - and only then dipping in to see which varieties I need to replace after checking my seed box.

I've made a list of the veg that makes home grown worthwhile for me: sweetcorn and asparagus that are at their finest freshly picked, carrots because they're fun, rocket because I never need a whole bagful, ditto spinach, garlic because last year's harvest has seen me through the winter, purple sprouting broccoli because seeing those purple sprouts make me happy that winter is nearly over, French beans and one courgette because I didn't grow any last year, tomatoes and chillies - the essence of summer! - and kale, the workhorse of the veg garden.  And perhaps some bulb fennel if there's space.

Having sorted that out, I found that I already had most of the seeds I need without any unnecessary additional spending, although I'm going to replace all of the strawberry plants this year as the old plants were unreliable and tasteless. I've read that renowned chef Raymond Blanc recommends Marshmello strawberries for flavour so I've put an order in to Marshall's who supply both bare root and plug plants.

Being sensible and seasonal!

Instagram is currently awash with images of seedlings growing fast on windowsills and greenhouse shelves, especially during the last few weeks of unseasonably warm sunshine. I can totally relate to the urge to start sowing seeds at the very first sign of warmer weather but would advise caution!  

The weather from February through to the end of April can be very unreliable, warm one day and snowing the next (I jest not), so early sowing is a gamble. Seedlings grow weak and leggy without good light and, if planted out too soon, may just become slug fodder. Better to have strong plants that have a greater chance of survival. Plus, it's not a race - do what feels right for your growing environment.

My post tomorrow is about what you can and should be doing in March. Tune in?

My sweet, earthy vegetarian soup with all the festive colours of Christmas

My Christmas Soup (Beetroot and Parsnip) from 2009

I first made this vibrant Christmas Soup almost ten years ago when I had a glut of beetroot from the veg patch.  Now I recognise that it's a very nutritious balanced meal, a perfect foil for sweet Christmas indulgences, and a good time saver if made ahead and frozen.


My late mother was an amazing cook and Christmas was a time when she could give free reign to all her culinary talents. Not for our family shop-bought mince pies and fruit cake, plastic wrapped turkey, boxed stuffing mix, microwaved Christmas pud or store bought brandy sauce. No, my lovely mum would start in early November making the fruit cake, feeding Dad's best brandy into it to keep it moist over the weeks ahead, ordering the bird (always called 'the bird' in our house) from the butcher in early December and building up to the big day like a military operation. Everything was made from scratch, just as her parents had done before and as I try to today.  Among all this preparation, she would still find time for freshly made soup for lunch and homemade mince pies at teatime.

Lunchtime soup became a reassuring daily tradition so it's no surprise that, in the early veg patch days when I set myself the challenge of finding ways of liking beetroot, I turned to soup. Soup is so comforting, isn't it?

The veg patch community grew beetroot as one of our first crops only because someone had a free packet of seeds; roll on to harvest time and it turned out that no-one, me included, actually liked the stuff. (Staggering to think as now I love eating beetroot in all its many guises.) Rather than letting the entire crop go to waste, I challenged myself to find ways of using beetroot that would change my mind; this soup was one of them.  (Chocolate beetroot cake was another.)

The recipe that I drew inspiration from in 2009 called for more beetroot than other veg. I tweaked the proportions so my version has more carrots, more parsnips and less beetroot to make a sweeter, less earthy soup but with the same vibrant deep red colour. With the confidence of experimenting with home grown veg over the past decade, these days I'd add celery to the veg mix and top the soup with toasted and crushed hazelnuts and green pumpkin seeds.  I'd also stir some horseradish through the yogurt garnish. After all, I've got to do something with all the horseradish romping through the veg patch!

Why not try it and let me know what you think? And trust me on the toasted hazelnuts and pumpkin seeds - that crunchy topping is delicious!

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Parsnip and Beetroot Soup

For 4 good sized bowls, you will need:

150g onion
250g carrots
a stick of celery
300g parsnip (approx 2 medium)
800ml stock (easy to make your own or use powdered stock)
200g cooked beetroot
1/2 tsp ground coriander (Garam Masala is a good substitute)
Olive oil
Sea salt and black pepper
Optional garnish of yogurt, chopped dill, pumpkin seeds, toasted and crushed hazelnuts

1. Roast or boil beetroot until soft (about 40 minutes); leave to cool before peeling, discarding stems and roots. Chop into smaller chunks.  
2. Peel and chunk carrots, parsnips, celery.  Slice onions.
   
3. Heat a tablespoon of oil in heavy based pan.  Add onions, carrots, celery and parsnip. Stir to coat. Put on lid and sweat for 5 minutes until starting to soften.
4. Add ground coriander spice.  Stir in and cook for 2 minutes more.
5. Add stock and beetroot.  Bring to boil then simmer for 20 minutes, lid off.
6. When cool, blend soup until smooth.  Season with salt and pepper as needed.
   
7. Garnish with a swirl of yoghurt and/or other toppings.   
8. Get creative with patterns in the yogurt! To make swirls, use a chopstick or skewer to pull the yogurt gently into the soup in small circles.

And here it is in pictures ...

Onion, Parsnip, Carrots about to be 'sweated'.

Stock and Beetroot added. Mmm, getting redder!

Simmering …

Cooled and ready to blend …

Checking the seasoning

A few thoughts:

1. My first bowl didn't have Dill in it but was very nice.  I bought some dill for the second serving of soup and was amazed at the transformation. It added a whole new taste dimension, as did the yogurt - and both are quite important for the Christmas look!
2. Fascinating fact: Did you know that Dill is traditionally an Ancient Sign of Fortune? And marketed by a certain UK supermarket as 'feathery fronds of fragrant flavour'.  Need I say more? 

Nutrition facts* that make this a very healthy soup:

Beetroot: A wonder food! A good source of soluble fibre, packed with Vitamins A, C and B6, and folic acid.  It is both an appetite stimulant, easily digested and contains an abundance of calcium, potassium, choline, organic sodium and natural sugars.  Helpful for anaemia, anxiety, fatigue, skin problems, liver problems, circulatory weakness, menstrual and menopausal problems, high and low blood pressure.

Parsnips: Another good source of fibre and packed with vitamins and minerals. The organic chlorine (not the sort used in swimming pools!) is a natural mineral and as such is used as a body cleanser. Parsnips are rich in sulphur and silicon which is very helpful for skin and hair health.  Parsnip juice is also very beneficial for anyone suffering from lung conditions, but small to medium sized parsnips are best for this.

Onion:  Rich in vitamin C, copper and iron, as well as sulphur, calcium and phosphorus.  The juice was used by the Romans for treating skin disease and healing wounds but is equally good for the immune system today!

* I firmly believe that being aware of what you eat is better than spending hours at the doctor's surgery.  I occasionally juice fruits and veg and the above facts are taken from a book called "Getting the Best out of your Juicer" by William H Lee.  Published in USA, it's not widely available in UK and  may be out of print.  I think I bought mine in a health shop about ten years ago.

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How to easily grow avocados with guaranteed success!

... or, how I managed to grow an avocado, kill it, and then restore it back to health - all with advice gleaned from RHS Urban Garden shows.

During the forthcoming holidays, I'd like people to stop and think before they toss out empty jars and avocado pits after making guacamole or whatever. With those two things, you have the means tp grow a free houseplant.

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There are some people for whom the challenge of growing an avocado plant from the discarded stone/pit is easy.  Let me tell you now, I am not one of those people.

For years, I tried every method of sprouting an avocado stone without success. Feeling thoroughly defeated after so many failures, I gave up and started chucking the stones away. But this is not about my failures but about how to successfully grow an avocado.

I wasn't always challenged at growing avocados. In my first flat, a large soil filled pot in my living room stood ready to receive every avocado stone that I discarded. No special treatment required; I placed the stone fat end down, and left it. (With occasional watering.) The pot soon became a forest of leaves to challenge the Monstera at the other end of the room. But when I moved on, the avocado jungle stayed behind; I felt confident that I'd quickly grow another pot of avocados - after all, how hard could it be? But when I left, my green fingered houseplant magic stayed behind - and the years of avocado growing failure commenced.

Fast forward to autumn 2017 to a mini-workshop at the RHS Urban Garden Show; an RHS trained gardener promised to guide participants through a Guaranteed Method of growing avocados.

Here's what I learned that day.

How to grow an avocado

1. Carefully cut the avocado pear in half, taking care not to score or damage the root end of the stone with your sharp knife.
2. Ease the stone out of the flesh with a teaspoon, again being super careful not to damage it.
3. Wash or wipe any flesh off the stone - you don't want it to get mouldy.
4. Fill a 9cm wide plant pot with regular potting compost to a half-inch from the top.
5. Tap the pot on a hard surface, eg table top, to settle the soil.
6. Make a slight dip in the centre and place your avocado stone in it. The top of the stone should sit above the soil. Think Orca coming up for air. 
7. Water the pot well until you see water draining from the bottom.Allow the pot to drain fully - no more water dribbling out from underneath.
8. Label your plant with the date and name. (Latin naming not obligatory although 'Persea americana' if you so desire!)
9. Cover your pot to give the stone its own little greenhouse. We were given small plastic sandwich bags for this, secured with string. Now I would try and use a clean upturned glass jar. 
10. Place the pot away from a cold windowsill - mine sat on a shelf above my kitchen sink where I could keep an eye on it. (An airing cupboard would have been better, if I had one.)
11. Check the moisture levels in the soil on a weekly basis - if dry, water sparingly.
12. Don't overwater; the soil should be slightly damp, definitely not wet. 

After the workshop, I carried my little pot home and then I waited. And watched. And waited some more. Four months later, convinced I'd got another non-starter, the pot and pit were destined for the dustbin when I saw a tiny crack in the stone! I swear I couldn't have been more excited if I'd had a hatching dinosaur egg in my hands.

Over the next week, a shoot slowly appeared. In another month, I was the proud owner of a healthy, albeit spindly, little plant with several leaves. By summertime (just before its demise) most of the leaves were six inches long; I was so proud of it. And then, at the height of the summer heatwave, I reasoned that avocado trees natively grow in hot climates and put the little plant outside to enjoy some fresh air. (I can't now believe I was that stupid.)  I introduced it to the wider world of my balcony ... and the glaring sun. Game over.

Successfully growing an avocado - 14th April, one month after sprouting.

The mistake I made

Plants really don't like drying heat - unless they're a cactus. And I hadn't checked the moisture in the soil before putting it outside. The leaves scorched, the plant withered. I was devastated as I watched the leaves drop, one by one, and shelved a triumphant post of avocado growing success.

For some unknown reason, I kept the dead plant. A serendipitous move as it turned out.  Returning to the RHS Autumn Urban Show in late October this year, I learned of a little known hack that has enabled my avocado to rise Lazarus-like once more.

And the resurrection secret is ... 

decapitation; or, more correctly, trimming back.  By lopping off the top of the stem above a leaf node, I triggered the plant to produce more leaves. Not bad considering it had been 'dead' for over 8 weeks and mostly unwatered! I'd noticed a microscopic green bud forming at the top of the twig/stem so cut just above it - and it worked.

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A few more tips for successful growing:

• Avocado stones can be sprouted over water as well as in soil - grower's choice.  The bottom of the stone must be in contact with the water until a root system has formed, then the stone should be transferred to a small pot, planted in well draining compost and left to grow on indoors in a warm environment - 20°-25°C (68°-77°F).
• Toothpicks not your thing?  I'm sprouting a stone using a stylish ceramic disk bought from Studio Janneke - an independent ceramicist working from her studio in North London.  I think it looks lovely, and so much prettier than watching a brown pot for four months. 

• Patience is key. The stone should germinate in four to six weeks but, as I've shown, can take considerably longer.
• Once the plant has outgrown this first pot (roots can be seen at the bottom of the pot), repot in spring into a larger pot, at least 1ft in diameter.  Use a soil based compost for this.
• Plants with fresh compost won't need feeding for several weeks but otherwise give established plants a liquid feed (seaweed fertiliser is good) every 2 to 3 weeks throughout spring and summer.
• Established plants like to be kept on the cool side in winter 15°-18°C - definitely not above a hot radiator - but move to a slightly warmer spot in summer in bright light, but away from direct sun!  

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I hope you've found this post useful - it didn't occur to me that I could prune my plant back into life so I'm happy to pass on a helpful tip.  

Growing any plant from a seed is fun for children but I think avocados are especially exciting (next to potatoes and tomatoes).  If you do think about giving it a go, I'd love to know how you get on!

Seize the day! Rewarding times in the November garden

You'd think by the end of autumn that all would be quiet in the garden with just a few tidying up jobs to be done, yes?  No. With the chill of winter in sight, there's plenty to do, see and eat in the garden...

It's nearly winter and it's cold but, where I live, at least there's no snow or frost ... yet. So am I still working in the garden? Yes. As much as I'd love to be indoors, tucked up with a good book, a couple of Hobnobs and a mug of tea, these are the many jobs needing my attention outside.

Weeding 

The ground is soft after persistent drizzle - perfect for weeding before the soil freezes.  And yes, weeds are still growing as the temperatures are averaging 7°C (44°F). I'm holding my breath waiting for it all to change but temperatures in London are forecast to soar (haha) to 14°C (57°F) by midweek and stay mild into early December. But before I shout "woo-hoo!" and race outside to carry on the good work, a reality check will require a raincoat and wellies.

Gather leaves and prune

The tree branches are now mostly bare, apart from the silver birch below my windows. It's a daily job to clear the ground but I love the thought of the lovely leaf mould I'm making.  I've got some wire baskets to store the leaves in while they rot down but have used open topped garden waste bags from the local council in the past. I could use perforated plastic bin bags but would rather not as I'm trying to eliminate single use plastic.

As the leaves began to fall from the cherry trees, I was concerned to see that next year's buds have appeared along the length of the branches; this won't be good if a hard winter lies ahead. Those yellow leaves have now fallen, revealing a couple of crossing branches. Stone fruit (cherries, plums, etc) should ideally be pruned in the summer but I've tidied up the trees in winter before without consequence. Luckily I'll be touching wood as I prune. Handy, that.

Pruning Autumn fruiting raspberries

I chopped down a few untidy autumn raspberry canes several weeks ago as they looked to be done for the year. The few canes that I left unpruned have gone on to produce lots more berries. I'm amazed, and thankful; a handful of delicious cold berries as I wander the garden is something to appreciate.

I know autumn fruiting canes are traditionally left until spring for the big chop but I've cut mine in late autumn for several years now, confident of the advice given by plant biologist and author, Ken Thompson. He prunes back all his raspberry canes, both summer and autumn fruiting, before winter - and he lives in Sheffield, Yorkshire, where it's a bit chillier than London.

Beware the yellow (or white) carrot!

These are the last of my self-styled 'lucky dip' carrots, from a pack promising a rainbow of colours. The prospect of jewelled roots was a tantalising thought as they grew but by the time I'd pulled the umpteenth yellow carrot the novelty had worn off.  They're very pretty but looks aren't everything.

The purple and orange carrots trumped the yellow ones for taste.  James Wong in his book 'How to Eat Better' writes that purple-to-the-core carrots have the highest levels of polyphenols, ten times that of yellow or white carrots.

No, I didn't know what polyphenols were either but read that they're good for you. Lump them in with carotene, probiotics and antioxidants, and you've got chemicals collectively known as phytonutrients. Adding phytonutrients to our diets (choosing purple over yellow carrots for example) may promote better health and prevent degenerative diseases. (According to the research data quoted by James.)

For now, that's good enough to sway me; I'm growing purple next year. Carrot seed is better when fresh so I can replace my seed without feeling guilty.

Those Fat Babies just keep on growing

A three metre hedge/windbreak, grown from just the one self-sown achocha seedling, borders one side of the veg patch. That's Fat Baby Achocha for you - 16 foot multi stemmed vines will grow sideways if they can't go up.  I hadn't intended growing achocha this year but when nature steps in, who am I to argue? Free food, minimal effort? Yes please.



Achocha can be used in any recipe that calls for bell peppers; I eat the small ones whole (they taste of peppers and crunchy cucumber) and will make achocha jam with the larger fruits. The vine is slowing down now but will carry on until winter cold kills it; any large pods falling to the soil will germinate next spring and be put up for adoption; I want to give the bigger variety, known as Giant Bolivian Achocha, a go next year.

Preparing the Asparagus/Square Foot bed

I love having freshly picked asparagus each spring; despite having only three crowns left, they produced enough quality spears for me this year so I've left the ferns for as long as possible to re-energize the crowns. They've now yellowed so it's time to cut them back to base.  The yellowing ferns also provided a windbreak for the tomatoes planted into the 'square foot' bed; tomatoes which, to my amazement, are still slowly ripening. Wow. Hot summer equals no blight spores.

In that same square foot bed, a cape gooseberry/Physalis plant has appeared. This is somewhat of a miracle in my book as no seeds were sown this year - could a dropped seed have lain dormant for three years in the soil to germinate in the heat of the summer? I haven't had much success with growing Physalis in recent years; even the plants that grew well at the allotment last year didn't fruit in time, unlike my first batch of veg patch plants that fruited prolifically and grew as short lived perennials through mild winters. This little miracle plant will be dug up and repotted into a sheltered spot so it has the best chance of surviving winter's chilly fingers.

Winter Veg

At the other end of the veg patch I have five enthusiastic purple sprouting broccoli plants.

I chose seeds specifically so that plants would fruit in succession, from summer through to late winter - but the dry heat of summer put paid to that. The plants are now starting to form heads, all at once. I'm hoping that shorter days and cooler temperatures will check this growth as I need some of the plants on hold for a winter crop. Somehow, that seems like wishful thinking - thank goodness for Cavolo Nero kale!

This kale grew from a dropped seed after the seedheads and flowers were left for pollinators to enjoy. I transplanted the 6" seedling in spring (it survived the harsh winter without any help) and I've enjoyed the leaves all summer.  Looks like it will keep going through winter as well!

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Jobs to do this month ... in fact asap!

• Gather up leaves and store in a mesh bag for leaf mould. I collect leaves from the gardens here, not the street leaves which are more likely to be polluted. I have enough to fill a couple of big garden bags; these will take a couple of years to rot down but it will be worth it.
• Cut back hellebore foliage. Hellebores, aka Lenten Rose, will be getting ready now to flower in spring. Cut the big old leaves off at the base of the plant to allow new leaves and flowers to develop.
• Mulch! Put last year's leaf mould and compost to good use by mulching around hellebores and other perennials now and put a mulch over any beds or planting areas not in use over winter. 
• Plant garlic cloves.  I had a crazy idea to edge the veg patch path with garlic and spring onions next year to free up a bed for other crops. 
• Plant onion sets.  I just have to work out where to plant them, given all the other crops I'll need space for! 
• But first I'm going to dig up and relocate self-seeded flowers. It's also a good time to move any dormant perennials - prepare the planting hole (or container) before moving them. 
• Plant tulip bulbs.  It's the perfect time for this job - not too cold to be working outside but cool enough that the bulbs won't get the tulip fire blight virus. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who has yet to plant bulbs?)
• Pot up and bring in any tender plants - dahlias, I'm looking at you. I also have chillies and pepper plants outside, and then there's the cape gooseberry to protect as well. 
• Pop a protective layer of horticultural fleece over tender crops like winter lettuce, pak choi and spinach; chard, purple sprouting broccoli, cabbages and kale are very hardy so don't need protection.

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