A local supermarket is selling cardboard punnets of deep red strawberries (no clingfilm) bearing the legend 'picked today at 6.00 am in Kirkham'. My thoughts go out to the agricultural workers of the Fylde who on hearing the dawn chorus rise up to gather and pack this lovely fruit. I am tempted to buy them but remember that to pick strawberries I have only to go out of my back door.
It was not always so. Strawberries grew well on our allotment, once again a substantial donation from H and an additional plant of the giant variety brought from Cheshire. But they suffered from several drawbacks. Firstly, as I posted at the time, I ignorantly planted some of them in a frost pocket and neglected to protect them adequately. Cold weather caught us unawares in the warm south east and frost blacked out the centres. There was nothing for it but to pull off the damaged flowers and wait for the succeeding buds to grow.
Secondly, as with the cultivation of our raspberries, hot dry summers often prevailed. This meant many trips to the water tanks. Weeds were also a perennial problem, particularly as I did not think to clear the ground, put down weed suppressant black fabric and finally make slits in this for the strawberry plants. Too mean to buy fresh straw, I sifted out dry stuff from the communal manure heap for the ripening fruit to rest upon and was surprised when meadow grasses germinated. Too sentimental to save only the strongest plants I let runners proliferate and found them growing into the grass paths or tangling over each other in the centre of the bed.
But limited space once again helps me to concentrate on good growing. We have a healthy selection of plants from my sister's. They are in rich soil, against a wall, sensibly spaced and netted against the pigeons. They are late by southern standards but in traditional time for Wimbledon.
Home-grown strawberries, home-made cake, a sprig of mint and for cream substitute some Holmfirth yogurt. Enough is as good as a feast.
Tuesday 28 June 2016
Tuesday 21 June 2016
Raspberries
Raspberries are one of my favourite soft fruits. I could claim to start with an advantage because my Dad grew them, and my grandfather too, but at an early age I was more concerned with eating than learning about cultivation. So when H on our allotment gave us some surplus raspberry canes I put them in the first spot that came to mind, planted far too deep, on a sunny windy corner and wondered why they took so long to establish. I should have observed her originals next to the boundary fence, shaded by blackthorn and wild plum trees.
Another donation was from the late B who gave us his autumn flowering yellow ones with the comment that they hadn't done much. We put these behind our large greenhouse in a more sheltered position and happily they thrived, once winning a prize. Most years they were fine, but raspberries do not appreciate excessive heat. I mulched them most years but in the hot summers of the south east they sometimes dried up before they were fully ripe.
Raspberries grew in our orchard plot, under the apple trees. This should have been a good position, except that these bushes, possibly old, seemed to have reverted to a wild state. Every year I would hope that with additional manure and care they might improve. However their fruit was consistently small and squashy. Rather than pull them up it was easier to leave them for the birds.
Up here, we drove to the agricultural college and bought ten new canes of a Scots variety. As I have previously noted, I planted five in an inappropriate position and my dear husband had to move them. One that he could not uproot remains as a testimony to my romantic ideas of interweaving fruit and flowers. It is not doing well.
On the other hand the ones that we planted or relocated are showing promise. They are in partial shade, enjoying afternoon sun. They are visited by bumble bees, have set fruit and are also putting up next year's canes. The next challenge, of course, will be not to damage them but to successfully net the fruit against all the garden birds we have hitherto regarded as pets.
Another donation was from the late B who gave us his autumn flowering yellow ones with the comment that they hadn't done much. We put these behind our large greenhouse in a more sheltered position and happily they thrived, once winning a prize. Most years they were fine, but raspberries do not appreciate excessive heat. I mulched them most years but in the hot summers of the south east they sometimes dried up before they were fully ripe.
Raspberries grew in our orchard plot, under the apple trees. This should have been a good position, except that these bushes, possibly old, seemed to have reverted to a wild state. Every year I would hope that with additional manure and care they might improve. However their fruit was consistently small and squashy. Rather than pull them up it was easier to leave them for the birds.
Up here, we drove to the agricultural college and bought ten new canes of a Scots variety. As I have previously noted, I planted five in an inappropriate position and my dear husband had to move them. One that he could not uproot remains as a testimony to my romantic ideas of interweaving fruit and flowers. It is not doing well.
On the other hand the ones that we planted or relocated are showing promise. They are in partial shade, enjoying afternoon sun. They are visited by bumble bees, have set fruit and are also putting up next year's canes. The next challenge, of course, will be not to damage them but to successfully net the fruit against all the garden birds we have hitherto regarded as pets.
Monday 20 June 2016
Walled Garden 2 - Compost Bins
Composting regulations arouse strong feelings and can lead to compliance or non-compliance. The walled garden where we volunteered had extensive bays, situated towards the bottom by the glasshouses. Each bay had a notice forbidding or encouraging the gardeners to place particular items there. Perennial weeds and other bulky woody items went to a separate pile and were burnt at a later stage. It was a bit of a bind to wheel a barrow uphill and out of the walled garden to find this dedicated spot, but when twenty or so other volunteers are also present it is harder to cheat. It is also easy to become censorious on finding that some person has chucked in a nettle or a buttercup for example. Sometimes food items which I regarded as perfectly able to be salvaged found their way onto the heap, beetroot or over-large and woody parsnips for example which would not sell at the coffee break, and, after checking, these usually found their way home with me for soup. Those who I will entitle 'guardians' of the heaps had strong views, and were best treated with tact and discretion.
Unfortunately our allotment site had notices aplenty but little compliance. Looking back, I attribute the latter to the lack of a formal allotments committee. Our skip, after one final clear-out, was withdrawn by the council because its use was being abused by persons who brought household items such as old paint cans, large items of wood and broken clothes racks and deposited them there. The compost areas, unlike the walled garden ones, had no notices instructing us to, 'fill this bin now' and so tended to be filled in a haphazard fashion. Woody stuff which does not break down easily, such as vine prunings, regularly found its way there along with blighted tomato plants which is an insult to good plant hygiene. Individual plot holders decided when best to take compost out of the bins. The notices besought us to compost as much as possible on our own plots, but in some cases to no avail. And because of local government regulations on smokeless zones, burning was traditionally limited to one night a year - Bonfire Night.
Up here we have our own three bins at the back of the garden. Once again we are faced by a local government challenge - we have paid for the first time for our garden waste collection, but the council will no longer collect food waste. Should we compost this ourselves? This is under discussion. Meanwhile we have a household system that works well. My husband is in charge of composting and lets me know which bin to fill first. We source horse manure from the local constabulary and leaves from the church garden where we volunteer. He is in charge of inspecting, layering and turning this. Perennial weeds and woody stuff like hedge cuttings still go in the garden waste collection. All is on a small scale - so far so good.
Unfortunately our allotment site had notices aplenty but little compliance. Looking back, I attribute the latter to the lack of a formal allotments committee. Our skip, after one final clear-out, was withdrawn by the council because its use was being abused by persons who brought household items such as old paint cans, large items of wood and broken clothes racks and deposited them there. The compost areas, unlike the walled garden ones, had no notices instructing us to, 'fill this bin now' and so tended to be filled in a haphazard fashion. Woody stuff which does not break down easily, such as vine prunings, regularly found its way there along with blighted tomato plants which is an insult to good plant hygiene. Individual plot holders decided when best to take compost out of the bins. The notices besought us to compost as much as possible on our own plots, but in some cases to no avail. And because of local government regulations on smokeless zones, burning was traditionally limited to one night a year - Bonfire Night.
Up here we have our own three bins at the back of the garden. Once again we are faced by a local government challenge - we have paid for the first time for our garden waste collection, but the council will no longer collect food waste. Should we compost this ourselves? This is under discussion. Meanwhile we have a household system that works well. My husband is in charge of composting and lets me know which bin to fill first. We source horse manure from the local constabulary and leaves from the church garden where we volunteer. He is in charge of inspecting, layering and turning this. Perennial weeds and woody stuff like hedge cuttings still go in the garden waste collection. All is on a small scale - so far so good.
Saturday 18 June 2016
Walled Garden Part 1 - Long Border
It was H on our allotment who introduced us to the gardens of Copped Hall, a private charitable trust (open to the public) situated close to Epping, Essex. H volunteered, taught and gardened there and such was her enthusiasm that she persuaded us to join. So we took early communion and then drove up the road to report for Sunday morning's task. It was (and still is) a great place to make friendships, pull weeds, enjoy the sun and shelter from the rain, eat home-made cake and buy home-grown vegetables.
H's special responsibility was the long border outside and along one of the high brick boundaries of the walled garden. It has an amazing collection of herbacious perennials and roses in the style of the last Edwardian owners of the mansion which is still in the process of being restored. As I thought about all the hard work that has gone into Copped Hall, I looked out at our own miniature 'long border' which brings me so much pleasure.
Like our volunteer work, this involved some cutting back as my husband tackled our clematis Broughton Star, finding a poorly rose bush and some delphiniums to be moved them up the border to a sunnier spot. We learned about the dry spot in the shade of the hedge at the bottom and planted herbs and a broom tree from my sister. We had plants to introduce - our honeysuckle and the michaelmas daisies from a gardening customer. We found things that we wanted to keep such as the camellia, the peonies and the pink geranium sanguinium and we bought others in keeping with the style of the border - a lavender cutting, pinks from the superstore (rescued once again) and gifts from our neighbours - the sweet williams that are now coming into flower.
Our long border will never rival its bigger role model, but it is fragrant, old-fashioned and colourful. And I don't have to drive a fourteen mile round trip to appreciate it.
H's special responsibility was the long border outside and along one of the high brick boundaries of the walled garden. It has an amazing collection of herbacious perennials and roses in the style of the last Edwardian owners of the mansion which is still in the process of being restored. As I thought about all the hard work that has gone into Copped Hall, I looked out at our own miniature 'long border' which brings me so much pleasure.
Like our volunteer work, this involved some cutting back as my husband tackled our clematis Broughton Star, finding a poorly rose bush and some delphiniums to be moved them up the border to a sunnier spot. We learned about the dry spot in the shade of the hedge at the bottom and planted herbs and a broom tree from my sister. We had plants to introduce - our honeysuckle and the michaelmas daisies from a gardening customer. We found things that we wanted to keep such as the camellia, the peonies and the pink geranium sanguinium and we bought others in keeping with the style of the border - a lavender cutting, pinks from the superstore (rescued once again) and gifts from our neighbours - the sweet williams that are now coming into flower.
Our long border will never rival its bigger role model, but it is fragrant, old-fashioned and colourful. And I don't have to drive a fourteen mile round trip to appreciate it.
Thursday 9 June 2016
Intentionally Intensive Gardening
Adjustment from three allotments to one section of our back garden has proved to be slow. I have some good memories of our successes in the first year. There were the squashes by our bay windows, cherry tomatoes bought in from our local college, french beans, broad beans, herbs and our soft fruit. But things are getting better.
This year my husband sowed his own tomatoes and the greenhouse is full of those reliable standards Harbinger and Moneymaker. The squash are back - both our own 'allotment' variety and seeds saved from a supermarket butternut squash have germinated. Basil is now thriving on our kitchen windowsill and parsley in terracotta pots on our patio. I rescued a sturdy mint from the superstore for a pound and it is coming on well. Broad beans are flowering at last, pollinated by the bumble bees which I suspect are nesting in a bird box next door (I shall not be mentioning this to our neighbour). And there is the always reliable rocket.
This year, I am not quite so much 'wait and see'. I do not have the luxury of space. I am uprooting weak plants such as sickly beans, and watering healthy ones. I am pulling up rosebay willowherb whenever I see it. I am successionally sowing rocket so there is more to follow on of this lovely peppery salad. I shall be netting our soft fruit promptly and not providing a feast for the wood pigeons.
Once I had a dream that we would pioneer back garden vegetable growing. In this era people would ask us and we would show them just how much can be achieved with application, rotation and a selection of raised beds. But whether that happens or not, I shall keep on gardening intentionally and intensively.
This year my husband sowed his own tomatoes and the greenhouse is full of those reliable standards Harbinger and Moneymaker. The squash are back - both our own 'allotment' variety and seeds saved from a supermarket butternut squash have germinated. Basil is now thriving on our kitchen windowsill and parsley in terracotta pots on our patio. I rescued a sturdy mint from the superstore for a pound and it is coming on well. Broad beans are flowering at last, pollinated by the bumble bees which I suspect are nesting in a bird box next door (I shall not be mentioning this to our neighbour). And there is the always reliable rocket.
This year, I am not quite so much 'wait and see'. I do not have the luxury of space. I am uprooting weak plants such as sickly beans, and watering healthy ones. I am pulling up rosebay willowherb whenever I see it. I am successionally sowing rocket so there is more to follow on of this lovely peppery salad. I shall be netting our soft fruit promptly and not providing a feast for the wood pigeons.
Once I had a dream that we would pioneer back garden vegetable growing. In this era people would ask us and we would show them just how much can be achieved with application, rotation and a selection of raised beds. But whether that happens or not, I shall keep on gardening intentionally and intensively.
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