Beds, Borders and Rag Bone

As I compose this blog I hear the ringing of the handbell of the 'Rag and Bone Man'.  He is announcing his presence on the avenue and that of his mate who is driving a white high-sided truck at roughly five miles an hour.  They are on the lookout for stuff left out on drives: metal, old sofas, carpets, cushions....

So am I.  I don't have a truck - just a plastic box on trolley wheels put together by my husband.  It is large enough for me to balance planks, rugs, bits and pieces that householders have left out.  (It is wise to ask permission first.)

So off to the plot yesterday to put in a small back border along the hedge line to divide a composting and wildlife area - brambles, nettles, bindweed, russian vine, turf stacks - from the michaelmas daisies (thank you, G, for giving us your spare roots).

I am saving my nice recycled sides from a defunct sofa bed for another day.  I scrambled towards the rear of one of our heaps.  Pallets and planks were beginning to rot down there, but there were enough servicable bits to put in a rustic edge at the back of the bed.  Now I can see what is what.  Daisies start here.  Nettles will no doubt edge their way under and across the border, as they do.  This is, after all, an allotment, not arable acreage.

Grubs tunnel into the decaying wood.  The turf stacks that I have piled upside down after we enlarged our borders on the neighbouring plot will break down and rot and turn into soil.  My husband is burying our compostable food waste in trenches where we will later plant our runner beans.

Waste not, want not. 

Ladies of the shallot

This week we shared some allotmenteering with a good friend.  Here's the lesson plan.

Go to the 'pound shop' and buy one pack of shallots (Allium ascalonicum).  These are handily on sale at 99p.

Unlock shed and collect garden rake.

Walk friend through allotment and show other shallots in situ.  It's been a long winter.  Some shallots are sprouting.  They were put in much earlier than this. 

Show friend spot for shallots.  Last season there were broad beans on this raised bed.  Onions follow beans according to the books I read on rotation.

Tramp the soil and then rake.  Friend tramped and raked enthusiastically.  Saw once again that when teaching others I am less slapdash.

Space shallots and dig holes to correct depth with small hand trowel.  Trim shallots at the top and plant.

Ten shallots successfully sown.  Tools returned to shed.  Now comes the wait.  And the homework which I set myself. 

Go away and read Tennyson's poem.  The Lady of Shalott.  Where are you in this narrative?  Would you like to choose or indeed can you be both?

Shalott or shallots?

Signs of Spring - April 2013

Here are some of the signs of spring I have seen over this last weekend:

Lesser Celandines (Ficaria verna) and Coltsfoot (Tussilago fafara).  The celandine was one of my mother's favourite flowers.  Both are very late in flowering this year.

A skylark in the country park. 

The first butterfly seen on my walk to the shops.

The first bumblebee and ladybird seen on the allotment.

Wafting over to us on the plot, the scent of the first barbecue of the year.

Our 'rescued' daffodils in flower - which now turn out to be some very prettily ornamented narcissi.

Seeds germinating at last in the greenhouse under cover - leeks and cauliflowers.

Sunlight.