This week saw us commence what seemed at the outset, a small turfing job for a former pupil of mine. I could write a book about the lessons this has taught me. Here goes.
When her husband took us to the back garden to show us the shady area needing a new lawn I noticed, but did not 'take in' the many 'weeds' that grew, eighteen to twenty inches high, around the base of what was obviously an old apple tree in need of drastic renovation and another large tree that I did not recognise, but guessed from the shrivelled fruit remaining on the topmost boughs might be a sloe. We wrote my pupil a detailed quotation, submitted it and began the job promptly.
When we came to remove the top layer of grass and moss prior to laying down topsoil and turf the following week, we realised that these were not 'weeds' at all, they were the suckers of the other tree which I discover from consulting The complete handbook of fruit growing (1976) is a Myrobolan, a variety of plum or gauge which is used as rootstock for cultivated varieties of plum. Deep down I should have known this. Myrobalans grow along one perimeter of our allotment and also by the railings in the park. They produce small, cherry-like red and yellow fruit, early in the season. U, our neighbour, picked some once and gave us a jar of jam.
Bother, oh bother. Myrobalans put out suckers from their roots, which spring up into miniature trees. We cut them out. This was a long tiring job. Some we managed to pull off entire from their parent roots, others we had to cut out with the secatuers or even the loppers.
Later, we got into conversation with the neighbour who was leaning conversationally over his garage, trimming ivy. We realised after mutual introductions, he is the brother-in-law of another neighbour in our avenue (the one who fixed the double-glazing in U's conservatory). He told us that the old ladies who lived in the house previously had had a greenhouse built under the apple tree. Hence the pieces of hardcore that we kept unearthing and putting in a pile at the end of the garden next to the old shed.
Stones and stone fruits. What was intended for rootstock shoots a thicket of prolific suckers. What was once a greenhouse base in a crazy place is turned into lumps of crazy paving concrete. We have done the best we can. On Monday we cover it all with turf.
Friday 21 March 2014
Tuesday 11 March 2014
Rhubarb and custard
Now sheltered by our large greenhouse and fortified by plenty of well-rotted manure, our rhubarb is going strong. We have a mixture of varieties - we paid £5.00 for a pot from a garden centre, (afterwards H said she could have given us a root for free) and some more from a temporary contract my husband undertook in Highgate. I have forgotten which is which.
We do not force our rhubarb, although the old-fashioned method is to bring it on under large clay pots. This works, should you wish to eat tender pink rhubarb in January. I prefer to let my rhubarb grow sturdily at its own rate. I pulled about eight to ten stalks for the first crumble of March 2014 served with custard as my husband prefers.
Rhubarb has its place in history on my maternal side. An uncle of my mother's by marriage was a farmer in what has become the Greater Manchester borough of Trafford. He ploughed with horses and grew rhubarb. We used to visit him and my great aunt as children in the Sixties. The farm was long gone, but the horse brasses remained. Many times when driving through the area my mother used to shout out this simple and succinct advertising slogan of her younger days: 'Eat more rhubarb!'.
I wonder if one of our rhubarb varieties is Timperley Early. A pleasing homage to my Cheshire forbears if it were so.
We do not force our rhubarb, although the old-fashioned method is to bring it on under large clay pots. This works, should you wish to eat tender pink rhubarb in January. I prefer to let my rhubarb grow sturdily at its own rate. I pulled about eight to ten stalks for the first crumble of March 2014 served with custard as my husband prefers.
Rhubarb has its place in history on my maternal side. An uncle of my mother's by marriage was a farmer in what has become the Greater Manchester borough of Trafford. He ploughed with horses and grew rhubarb. We used to visit him and my great aunt as children in the Sixties. The farm was long gone, but the horse brasses remained. Many times when driving through the area my mother used to shout out this simple and succinct advertising slogan of her younger days: 'Eat more rhubarb!'.
I wonder if one of our rhubarb varieties is Timperley Early. A pleasing homage to my Cheshire forbears if it were so.
Saturday 8 March 2014
Coming out of hibernation
Bees, butterflies and ladybirds are coming out of hibernation early this spring.
Whilst cleaning this week I noted that the ladybird huddle (mainly harlequins) in the top right hand corner of our windows was beginning to stir. Some are still somnolent (or dead, perhaps?) but the lively ones climbing the lace curtains were extricated and dropped onto the outside windowsill to make their own way.
Down on the plot this afternoon I saw three Small Tortoiseshell (Aglais urticae) butterflies, one solitary and the other two fluttering in what seemed like a courtship flight. My reference book tells me that they emerge from hibernation in March to May. The nettles, their food plant, are just beginning to reappear on the cleared area that was once the 'wildlife hedge'. My husband also spotted a Brimstone (Gonepteryx rhamni) in a local lane.
Finally I was glad to see a large bumblebee on the flowers of our Rosemary Miss Jessup.
On every visit I inspect our pond. The toad that lives next to the small greenhouse was awake when we tidied up around him or her but no spawn as yet, and no frogspawn. We wait and see.
Whilst cleaning this week I noted that the ladybird huddle (mainly harlequins) in the top right hand corner of our windows was beginning to stir. Some are still somnolent (or dead, perhaps?) but the lively ones climbing the lace curtains were extricated and dropped onto the outside windowsill to make their own way.
Down on the plot this afternoon I saw three Small Tortoiseshell (Aglais urticae) butterflies, one solitary and the other two fluttering in what seemed like a courtship flight. My reference book tells me that they emerge from hibernation in March to May. The nettles, their food plant, are just beginning to reappear on the cleared area that was once the 'wildlife hedge'. My husband also spotted a Brimstone (Gonepteryx rhamni) in a local lane.
Finally I was glad to see a large bumblebee on the flowers of our Rosemary Miss Jessup.
On every visit I inspect our pond. The toad that lives next to the small greenhouse was awake when we tidied up around him or her but no spawn as yet, and no frogspawn. We wait and see.
Friday 7 March 2014
Tranquil Gardens
We have been given a new customer and week by week are discovering her preferences. At our first meeting she told us that she led a very busy life and that she wanted a tranquil garden. Clues to this, we discerned, were the oriental ornaments placed at focal points.
We aim to please. In the last two weeks we have primed two new fence sections and painted the other existing fences and trellis work. To reach the fences and trellis we overcame overhanging ivy and various thorn-bearing and decorative shrubs and cut them back where appropriate. We raked the lawn several times to tidy up our bits and bobs, remove moss and leave a good impression. We took a small border fork to the beds we stood amongst to paint the fence and lightly titivated the surface of the mulched soil to erase our boot prints. We made all instances of our interventions invisible save for filling the brown bin. All is tranquillity again.
We aim to please. In the last two weeks we have primed two new fence sections and painted the other existing fences and trellis work. To reach the fences and trellis we overcame overhanging ivy and various thorn-bearing and decorative shrubs and cut them back where appropriate. We raked the lawn several times to tidy up our bits and bobs, remove moss and leave a good impression. We took a small border fork to the beds we stood amongst to paint the fence and lightly titivated the surface of the mulched soil to erase our boot prints. We made all instances of our interventions invisible save for filling the brown bin. All is tranquillity again.
Wednesday 5 March 2014
Sow your onions - in root trainers
G, one of our valued customers gave my husband some unwanted root trainers a few weeks ago. G would not be seen dead in the other kind of trainers - when we see him out and about on his errands he is suited in tweed and cap with matching shiny brown brogues.
Plastic root trainers are assembled in fours, have an elongated shape about the length of my finger and are hinged. The idea is that when it is time to plant out or to pot on the plants you unhinge the root trainers and have compact blocks of compost with healthily rooted plants which are easier to handle. My husband took them down to our large greenhouse.
M stuffed sieved compost into ten sets of root trainers preparatory to sowing onion seed. She indicated that this was somewhat fiddly and time-consuming task, more to G's liking than hers. We persevered. I sowed four seeds of early Onion Ailsa Craig per plastic container. We filled them all and placed them in an old plastic drawer. Then we cut up a discarded plastic bag and pegged it over the top to retain warmth and moisture.
This is my second attempt at growing onions from seed. My Japanese onions (see earlier post) have continued to grow outside in our mild, wet winter and are now the size of large spring onions or small leeks. I would usually buy onion sets - immature onions that have been specially treated and grow to maturity when planted out in late spring. This season I am going to try the old-fashioned way. A bit like G, really. Let's see if it works.
Plastic root trainers are assembled in fours, have an elongated shape about the length of my finger and are hinged. The idea is that when it is time to plant out or to pot on the plants you unhinge the root trainers and have compact blocks of compost with healthily rooted plants which are easier to handle. My husband took them down to our large greenhouse.
M stuffed sieved compost into ten sets of root trainers preparatory to sowing onion seed. She indicated that this was somewhat fiddly and time-consuming task, more to G's liking than hers. We persevered. I sowed four seeds of early Onion Ailsa Craig per plastic container. We filled them all and placed them in an old plastic drawer. Then we cut up a discarded plastic bag and pegged it over the top to retain warmth and moisture.
This is my second attempt at growing onions from seed. My Japanese onions (see earlier post) have continued to grow outside in our mild, wet winter and are now the size of large spring onions or small leeks. I would usually buy onion sets - immature onions that have been specially treated and grow to maturity when planted out in late spring. This season I am going to try the old-fashioned way. A bit like G, really. Let's see if it works.
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