11 Jun 2010

West End (gardening) Girl



Teenagers and tourists alike love the West End of London.  I don't.  I find it crushed, rushed and expensive.  In my garden and home, I'm in my comfort zone.  But, combine a free gardening event with a classic bookstore and I'm chucking aside my prejudices;  yesterday evening, I sallied forth from the Veg Patch towards Foyles (biggest bookstore in Britain) for the chance to pick up some good gardening tips.  (Despite everything you read here, I really am a novice at this.  Oh?  You knew that already.  Damn.)

Foyles have recently received the London's Green Corners award from the Conservation Foundation for their Urban Gardening window, and asked Neil from Seed Pantry to put together a little 'round robin' of info for keen beginners to start them off growing veg, salads and herbs.  The result was a brilliant evening of top tips served up by Neil,  Issy (Fennel & Fern) and Deb (Carrots and Kids).  It was well attended and, for me at least, it was a treat to meet Issy and Deb whose blogs I read.  (They said they knew of this blog but I think perhaps they made that up, y'know, just to console me.)  Meeting them made me think how lovely it would be to get together with other bloggers and have a chat over a decent cup of coffee … but, hey ho, we all have busy lives.


Now, I know you'll be interested to hear some of the Good Ideas which were shared yesterday - I forgot to take a pen as I left the house in a mad, scatterbrained dash, so this is a bit of what lodged in my head.

Coffee grounds: gritty texture disliked by slugs - use as a mulch around beans, cabbages, etc; it will not harm the plants and is good for the soil.  Also, add to your compost heap to speed things up.

Eggshells:  crushed eggshells are also a slug deterrent. (Wash them first though or you might attract vermin.)

Tomatoes:  Soak tomato seeds overnight before sowing as this helps germination. Pot on when roots can be seen coming through drainage holes.  When about 12 inches high, pinch out the side shoots to keep the growing energy in the central stem and repot shoots straight into compost.  Water twice a day for a week (tomatoes grow new roots from their stems, who knew?) and give new tomato plants to less green-fingered friends.

Tomato Blight:  Ah, yes.  The Big One.  Issy recommends spacing them well apart, leaving a corridor of air between plants.  Blight is an airborne fungus that loves a bit of humidity so keep things fresh and dry.   Don't get your tomato leaves wet when watering (rainfall is okay as it can't be helped). Cut off the lower leaves when the plant has set fruit - this also helps deter blight.

Pea Shoots:  Had a few of these to nibble.  V. Good.  Don't buy seeds, look in supermarket aisle for boxed dried peas.  (I think they're with the pot noodles, not with the dried beans, etc, which is where you'd expect them to be.  Apparently Asda sell the same variety -- Leo -- as Alys Fowler uses.)

Basil:  is an annual herb, need to resow every year. Will happily grow from seed.  Sow seed into pots every few weeks to have a continuous supply on your windowsill.  Likes an open window for fresh air. (I never knew this before but, I guess, you know it makes sense.)  Water when top soil is dry.


Chives:  Those big pom-pom flowers not only visually pretty up a salad but can be eaten, which sounds … um… interesting.  Chives sown from seed this year will be big enough to eat next year.  May keep going year on year if you shear off the top in the Autumn.  Can keep using even after flowering.

Rosemary (and other woody herbs):  Benefit from a cut back in Autumn or Spring to keep them going.  Cut back leaving a small amount of that season's growth to spring back to life next season.  (Can be grown tall rather than bushy, so I'm going to give this a go on my balcony, using lots of drainage crocks under the compost.)

Storing herbs:    1) Freeze into ice-cubes; surprisingly, this includes basil.  2) Pick leaves and dry in microwave.  Experiment with timing - a minute or two should be enough.  Not Sage though, it may catch fire!  3) Pick a bunch, tie with string, hang upside down to dry.

:: This is Sage in flower; rather beautiful and a magnet for bees ::

Not enough space?  Grow herbs in a hanging basket:  line basket with moss, then a plastic liner (poked through with holes) then compost.  Plant in rosemary, oregano, thyme, lemon balm, etc.  Mint should have it's own basket because of invasive roots.  Deb recommends Roman Chamomile for it's heavenly scent, also good for tea.  Hang it by the front or back door for a welcoming smell on coming home.  Keep baskets well watered.  (Learn more about Chamomile here from Jekka McVicar.)

Newspaper plant pots:  Make with a rectangle of newspaper wrapped firmly around a drinking yogurt bottle:  fold long side over by 1 inch, wrap round container, fold base in firmly, remove pot.  Fill with compost and seeds and firm down. Done. Put into a base container until ready to plant out and, as with toilet rolls, plant out whole thing.  (Sweet shops are usually glad to get rid of the plastic boxes that 'penny' sweets come in.  Cut lid off and wash before use.)

Recycled Propagators:  Use supermarket plastic fruit trays -- the sort you get, say, as a punnet of strawberries or cherries -- fill with compost, sow seeds, water and put the lid back on.  Keeps all moist and warm until germination.  (And fits on kitchen windowsill.)

So there we have it. I'll add more if anything else bubbles up through the fog of my thinking.


I'll leave you with a Fabulous Friday pic of a herb that didn't get mentioned yesterday but of which I'm inordinately proud because it seems to be doing so well: my horseradish (dig up in autumn, leaving bit of root in ground and will grow again next year).  I'd love to know if you have a plant that makes you smile when you see it!


Have a lovely weekend -- wishing everyone good gardening weather!

9 Jun 2010

Tribulations of urban balcony gardening…



I'm not normally pessimistic but I confess I have been a bit disheartened of late.  I've been invaded.  Yes, just a few days away from home over  half term and a family of pigeons have moved in, taking over my balcony, behaving like rock stars and trashing the place (seedlings completely squashed or broken). All very distressing.  


My kitchen now looks like a horticultural hospital as I've started again, this time indoors, and am also hoping that the poor oppressed cauliflowers, courgettes, squashes and nasturtiums will recover.

Outdoors, my growing year is revealing that  I'm Seriously Muddling Along.  I'm already reading about the successes and soon-to-be harvests of more organised and/or experienced veg growers which is making me feel slightly panicked as I'm still sowing stuff.  It seems that every time I venture out to the Veg Patch the list of Things To Do stretches ever-longer, leaving me feeling just a tad overwhelmed.  I seem to have leapt straight from March (waiting for the frosty nights to pass) into June (scorching sun, drying winds, torrential rain) and my planting and sowing schedule is still languishing at the beginning of May!  On the plus side, at least the kids' broad beans and sunflowers are still alive. (The Veg Patch is faring better than the balcony, pigeon-wise.)


I've had one raised bed ready for planting for a couple of weeks but have been diverted off from this task by putting in another brick path and digging over a bed for my french beans (Blue Lake from Dig In, doing nicely), putting up a little support frame for them and inter-planting them with strawberries.  The little reclaimed brick paths between the beds hit the to-do-list last year when the kids and I tramped home with a couple of inches of veg patch clay-mud attached to the bottom of our shoes.  I'm planning (eventually) to put them in around all the beds, just loose laid so that I can lift and plant in the space if needed.


Suddenly though, everything  is a priority: seeds lately sown (literally), sweet peas to transplant (the coppiced hazel branches for the wigwam have already been delivered by a friend), weeding to be done (that one crept up rather fast!) and lettuces/beetroot/carrots/spinach to be thinned out. Oh, and a blog to write.  … And pigeons to be dealt with (a losing battle so far).

-- Take four children, a bag of lettuce seeds and a lot of enthusiasm.  Thin out seedlings in due course. -- 

I've recently applied for funding to extend the Patch with some railway-sleeper beds which I hope to fill with sensory plants and edible herbs and flowers as a Children's Garden.  I've had to draw a rough sketch to show where the planters will be and it's made me realise how small the Veg Patch is.  I take my hat off to those of you who have huge allotments to fill and control, although (perversely) maybe it's easier if you have lots of space to fill?  I've had to take out the Kale (really only any good now for my neighbour's rabbits) to make room for … what? radishes? sweetcorn? leeks?  Where will the pumpkins, courgettes and squashes go?  What about the tomato bushes, cauliflowers, nasturtiums, calendula and herbs?  Oh, never fear, I will fit it all in - but I may have to stop and dig out another bed beforehand!

23 May 2010

I'm a recent fan of My Tiny Plot, a blog written by Gillian Carson.  She's written today about seed packet design, having received some beauties (if you like Liberty print fabric) in the post.  I've got to agree with her.  Most seed packets have become D-U-double L.  I recently wrote about the vintage designs mysteriously bequeathed to the Veg Patch and the changes wrought on seed packets in the Sixties, my gosh - fifty years ago!  I confess that I personally need a visual to make sure that what I'm about to grow is what I think it is but, really, beyond that there's very little to get excited about and I'm beginning to spot a Gap In The Market.

Seeds intended for children are made obvious by their 'Ronald McDonald' fast food colours and cartoon characters. Just a tad patronising, in my view.  How about some vintage Ladybird book-type illustrations instead?


There's also plenty of inspiration to be found in children's books; how about this one from illustrator Vivien French - as seen here in 'Oliver's Vegetables':


No prizes for guessing what would be found in that packet!

I've also been known to buy magazines for the free beautiful seed packet… oh, alright then, the mag was fab as well: Gardens Illustrated. They use the work of illustrator Hannah McVicar, daughter of Jekka-the-Herb-Lady, within the mag and also to adorn their free seeds:


Gorgeous or what?  Even Boden have got in on the act, in cahoots with Sarah Raven a couple of years ago:



Perhaps looking a bit dated now.

And, may I (ahem) modestly offer my own illustration of Agapanthus made for my seed gathering envelopes from one of my photos:


Yes? No? Maybe? On the other hand, maybe that one should be saved for fabric prints.  Might make a nice cushion cover?

Have you discovered any lovely seed packet designs or got any favourites lurking? I'd love to know!

14 May 2010

South to Kensington…

At last I have a day free, the weather is fine and dry, slightly breezy but not too chilly - and I haven't posted for a few days so forgive this quick pictorial catch up because I had such a lovely day yesterday… but I must get into the Patch and do some digging!

I had to go to Kensington and I treated myself to a leisurely walk back through the park (rather than rushing home on the underground).  So, up Kensington Church Street I went, passing the topiary in York Way:


Round past the palace… (er, yes, that is me in the 'Enchanted Palace' mirror, couldn't resist)


Kensington Palace is currently garbed up for the 'Enchanted' exhibition but my destination was not the buildings but the sunken garden, which is always a joy… (and free to look!)


Despite the overcast skies, the first glimpse of the garden was a riot of vibrant colour - squeeze your eyes together and you could almost believe you were in a Monet painting:


Moving over towards the South East corner, we have the purple/orange border:


Some cut ironwork art from illustrator-du-jour, Rob Ryan (hmm, coffee pots and keys?):


And we come to the Pepperpot Walk, leading to the palace café:


At York Rise, we are visited about once a month by a team of maintenance gardeners who insist on trimming the hedges and shrubs into cuboid shapes…  an action which meets with scorn and resistance every time.  Now if we could get them to grow into pepper pots

I'd planned to go on next to recce the Diana Memorial Playground (a short walk to the north, and still en route for home) but it was temporarily closed for maintenance (reopening Saturday).  Still, there was the very magical Elfin Oak to revisit, which I show here for the benefit of my little nieces who I hope will come to see this one day soon…

(Can you see the bunny?)
(The sleeping gate keeper with his giant key.)
Just in case anyone doesn't know about this tree, Ivor Innes was an illustrator, commissioned in 1928 to carve and paint fairies and elves into the tree stump.  The venerable stump is thought to be around 900 years old and was relocated from Richmond Park for this purpose.  Sadly, the Elfin Oak is now caged for its own preservation, which is a shame as it prevents the children getting in close to see the detail.  So here's just one more fairy photo:

(All photos can be seen larger size if you click on the image.)
I managed to get a few 'Peter-Pan-Playground' photos while circumnavigating the perimeter fence of the Princess Di playground but I'll leave you with just one - a tantalising glimpse of a Totem Tree Ent (I'll save the wigwams, crocodiles and pirate ships for my other blog):


Have a good weekend everyone.  I hope the weather stays good for us all!


Edited to add: if you want to find the Elfin Oak, or the Princess Di playground, the nearest tube station is Queensway on the Central Line. Exit the station and turn right down Queensway (street). Black Lion Gate is more or less opposite and, coming into the park from that direction, the playground entrance (just beyond the café) is about 100 metres on your right. For more information, with a link to a map, click here.

9 May 2010

Vintage seeds…

I have to confess to having been on a bit of a 'go-slow' in the Veg Patch this last week. The weather has not been so conducive to being outside (chill winds, drizzle and cold evenings) and this, combined with a painful shoulder (caused by 3 ribs out of alignment and bad posture at the computer, according to my osteopath friend), has led to me getting a bit behind. The next stage involves lugging bags of compost over to fill another raised bed and digging a trench in heavy soil before planting out my peas. This because, according to a little book I own, peas do extremely well if planted into a trench lined with rabbit/guinea pig straw and their droppings.  (What have I got to lose?)

However, it's not all gloom - in the days before it rained, I spotted a tiny package which had been left among the empty flowerpots.  Tucked into a biscuit wrapper from 2004 (love the repurposing!), over a dozen packets of (vintage) flower seeds.


I had to smile when I saw what it was as I'd been reading several blog accounts of seed packets being left unopened and unsowed beyond the sell-by date.  It would appear that the anonymous donor of my seeds had an unproductive year in 1984, although there is also a packet of Suttons Calendula from 1973 and Cornflowers from 1979!

The  Suttons and Fothergill's packets are no different to the ones found in garden centres today, although I suspect the wording may have changed - here it's delightfully old-fashioned: "This accommodating plant will flourish in the poorest soils, but does appreciate a sunny spot" is the charming advice for Calendula.


I have Nasturtium and Candytuft from Hurst Garden Pride ('A Riot of Bloom at Little Cost'), a firm which established in Essex in 1894 but had disappeared by 1999.  They held the royal warrant as seedsmen to H.M. the Queen and donations from seed sales went to The London Children's Flower Society.  


For pure nostalgia, though,  how about the Cottage Garden mix above and Night-Scented Stock, below, from Cuthbert?  The drawings evoke the kind of seed marketing used from 1930s until replaced by photos in the swinging sixties. (These days, though, as Carly Simon would sing: "Coming around again…")  Cuthbert have this to say of the seeds below: 'No garden is complete without a patch of Night Scented Stock.  It is a universal favourite.' Slightly bossy, but how to resist?


Cuthbert is another company now sadly lost to the nation after 200 years of trading.  James Cuthbert walked (as legend would have it) from Scotland to London in 1797, seeking his fortune and settling in Southgate - then just a village outside London, now the site of Southgate tube station.  If the logo seems familiar, it's because Cuthbert seeds were sold exclusively on the high-street through branches of Woolworths since 1937, back then costing tuppence a packet.  I like to think that some of the original York Rise gardeners might have used this brand - in fact, it's highly likely as there used to be a Woollies nearby in Kentish Town.  (Now, as with so many shops, a supermarket.)

So, the question remains - will the seeds still germinate after 35 years?  Heartened by news of a 2,000 year old palm tree seed germinating in Israel, I'm prepared to give it a go!

1 May 2010

The Secret Garden…

The word 'estate' (when used for city communities) has such hostile connotations these days that I hesitate to use it when describing where I live. I thought to redress the balance by showing you a little corner of the 'estate' at York Rise:


Opening the little iron gate and squeezing through an arch of leaves, you'll discover an enclosed garden, one of several for the tenants to enjoy.  It's what I see beneath my balcony windows.  Hidden on three sides: from the driveway by three London Plane trees thickly covered with ivy, from the paths by high hedges and lush planting, this is a tranquil space enjoyed by nesting blue tits and robins who make their presence known by singing throughout the day.  My friend and neighbour, Leigh, has ensured that this remains a lovely place to sit - if we're lucky, the sun streams in during the morning and, again, in the evening as it sets.

(Friendly Robin, looking for a meal as the compost is turned.)