First deckchairs of the year

Until now it's been a case of keeping moving to keep warm, but yesterday at the plot it was warm enough to take a break from digging and soak up the sun.  All of 10 degrees, but it felt blissful after a winter that has seemed never-ending.

Not much blogging has been done, but a fair amount of digging.  The blessing of this cold Spring has been that the weeds haven't got going, so digging the ground over hasn't been as hard as it might have been.  Hard enough, tho, and the ground has been hard through lack of rain. 

Below, the strawberry bed in mid-clean.  It's finished now, and plants dressed with sulphate of potash.  Couch grass seems to love strawberry plants, twining itself around their roots and popping up in mid plant.  I don't doubt that it will return to the fray.
 

The bare ground below holds the newly-planted potatoes.  Two rows of Red Duke of York, two of Mayan Gold (hoping that they will live up to Monty Don's praise of them), and one of Ratte, a salad potato.  The tubers had been chitting for so long that I'm concerned that they will be over-chitted - they had started to wrinkle up - so I hope they will get going and grow.

We have had a paltry harvest of brassicas.  The purple and white sprouting broccoli has still to sprout, and frost has killed most of the calabrese.  However some new shoots of calabrese have survived, as has the purple kale and savoy cabbages.  I'm in two minds about the purple kale.  It does look lovely as a plant, and steamed with a plateful of green lentils, but it made a bizarre addition to my traditional Scotch broth, turning the whole thing a pale lilac.

As for the leeks, they have sulked all winter.  I'm making the best of it by thinking of them as gourmet baby leeks.

There has been curiously little sign of life at the allotment site over the past few weeks.  The weather has been fair, if bitterly cold, and it seems as if people are reluctant to emerge from hibernation.  Everything feels suspended, and it's been difficult to think ahead to a time when winter will end.  When the temperature rose during the night yesterday, with rain and wind, I felt like Laura Ingalls Wilder in 'The Long Winter', when the chinook started to blow.

Decision time

How can it have been more difficult to get to the allotment in a summer where one 'child' has spent 2 months in Nepal, and the other has divided her time between France, Greece and working?  And now that they're both away at university (although only very recently), we still don't seem to have found the time.  Work, visitors, time spent as a family and time spent preparing for departures - all have taken priority over working at the plot.

We've made some small gains, despite our hectic summer.  Onions and shallots have been harvested, such as they were.  The hay (our pseudo straw) has been cleared from the strawberry bed and the old growth cut off.  Leeks have been planted, and are coming along oh so slowly.  The blackcurrant crop has been appreciated by the birds, and the fallen berries are creating a rich mulch beneath the bushes.

For the moment, the kale, broccoli and spring cabbage are holding their own beneath the bird netting.  Some signs of snail attack, and a healthy underplanting of grass which I'm gradually and painstakingly clearing by hand.  The soil has been too wet to use the hoe, so hand-weeding is the only option.
 

The old strawberry bed has become completely overgrown with grass, so to give ourselves an easier time we've covered some of it in light-stop membrane which I unearthed from the shed - ordered in 2004 and never used.

At our last visit a couple of weeks ago we came to a decision:  we're going to give the plot two more years, during which time we'll aim to have it productive and in order.  If at the end of that time we're still struggling for time, we'll give it up.  Longer term plans are beginning to take shape now that the children have finished school, and we want to have time to work towards these. 

Low ebb

Along with the glaur, we have slime. No crisply overwintering lollo rosso for us. Just a composting-on-the-spot icky mess.

And we knew this would happen - the potatoes stored in the shed experienced sub-zero temperatures, and were bound to suffer.


Perhaps the bright side of all this decay is that the phacelia that we didn't manage to dig in during the autumn is doing its own breaking down, after being buried under the snow. But look closely and you'll see a hint of green peeking out from the leaves and dead stems.

I think we may be about to experience the return of the phacelia for another season, just where we don't want it. Snow for the month of December, followed by rain, illness, other bits of life, all have kept us away from the plot. Although I've been going along to check on the broccoli cage and empty the kitchen waste into the compost bin, I haven't done any real work since November. It feels as if I'm losing touch with it. Just standing looking doesn't make the same connection as putting spade in soil, weeding, sowing, planting, pruning.

For the past two days we've had gales and heavy rain, nothing to match the storms in the US and Canada, but I've gone to bed at night listening to the roaring wind and thinking of the fate of the broccoli cage. Last weekend I was at the plot I spent the time fitting poles back into their sockets, and that was before the gales. Ironically we have all this anti-pigeon protection in the year when the broccoli is sitting there doing nothing. I'm still hoping for a growth spurt in March, but if not it's been a long winter of cage maintenance for nothing.

Winter solstice

Having finished up at work yesterday I had time for a quick dash to the allotment this afternoon, in between Christmas shopping and preparing for our annual Christmas pilgrimage to Speyside. For the past fortnight I've had a horrible cold-with-a-tinge-of-flu, and keeping plugging away at work has left me drained at weekends and only fit to take to bed so that I'm able to go to work on Monday. So no trips to the allotment at weekends, and on weekdays I leave home in the dark and get home in the dark. But with a fresh fall of snow and hard frost I wanted to see how the broccoli cage was faring.

It was mid afternoon by the time I set out, and I caught the brief glow of the solstice sunset. I was relieved to see that the cage was still standing, but it was suffering from the 'wrong' kind of snow, just as Britain's airports and railways have been suffering in the past weeks.


The snow had a woven effect, a bit like the cellular blankets which we keep in the loft for the very occasional warm summer night when duvets are too much.



All this softness was deceptive. As I knocked the snow off the netting, I dislodged one of the supporting poles, and saw that it was bent by the weight of the snow. At this point I was stuck: the ground was frozen hard, so that even if I managed to pull out the pegs holding the netting in place and get underneath to fix the pole, I wouldn't be able to push them back into the soil. So I jiggled and coaxed the pole back in to the balls at either end, and left it all balancing precariously. I fully expect to come back after New Year and find the whole lot on the ground, with pigeons sitting on top gorging on my baby kale.

The kink in the pole in the photo below shows the effect of all those feather-light snowflakes.

12 photos - September 2010

Last year on my Occasional Scotland blog I took part in the 12 kuvaa/photos meme, posting a photo each month from the same spot on my walk to work. The Finnish site that hosted the meme doesn't seem to be doing it again this year, but I've been bitten by the bug of seeing the year unfold in this way. (I also extended my meagre knowledge of Finnish, adding 'kuvaa' to the existing 'kiitos' - thank you; 'pankki' - bank; 'ravintola' - restaurant.)

So here's the plot after a morning and afternoon session today. Grass strimmed, green manure strimmed, six broccoli plants set out, cage and netting transferred from the blackcurrants to the broccoli.


And from the other end of the plot, the surviving lettuce plants in the foreground (more about that shortly), the remaining potato shaws next (and more about those too), and then the brassica cage. I still have kale plants at home waiting to go in there, but they'll have to wait until next weekend. At the other side of the plot is a very untidy strawberry bed, the shorn green manure, and the blackcurrant bushes.

The main impression I have looking at these photos is that we have some growing space set in the middle of a lawn. Despite our intentions, the grass has been winning this year. That broad central path irks me more every time I look at it, but our free time has been minimal and it's been one of the things we've had to postpone.

The weather today: blowy, warm, and hazy with smoke from bonfires.

The site today: much coming and going of other plotholders, with gluts of tomatoes and plums being shown off. A sense of the last fine days slipping away and everyone enjoying being outside.

If you want to see the original 12 kuvaa/photos site, it's here:

12 kuvaa/photos

After the gales

It could have been worse. The frame supporting the netting was still standing firm, and our shed was untouched. The plot next door wasn't so fortunate. They have a classic allotment shed put together from offcuts and old doors, and the recent gales tore away one whole side. I didn't take a photo. It seemed a touch voyeuristic.


I found a stout stake to replace the cane that this plant had been tied to, and tied the stake to the metal frame to make doubly sure. Although the ground was still sodden from all the recent rain, I couldn't push the stake in very far even with leaning all my body weight on it. I would have needed a man with a mallet (as opposed to a woman with a chainsaw - anyone else know that campfire song? 'I need a woman with a chainsaw...to keep me warm at night').

As these things do, the date has embedded itself in photos I've taken over the past couple of days. It must have happened when I fumbled with my camera in the dark while considering whether to try to take a photo of the 'lighting of the Christmas tree fireworks' yesterday. I've spent a frustrating hour this afternoon reading the camera manual and discovering how to embed the date, but not how to reverse the steps to un-embed it. Eventually, by dint of my favourite technique when dealing with anything mechanical - random prodding of buttons (which drives my family crazy), I seem to have got rid of it. Until the next time.

Poor neglected allotment. Bad weather, extreme activity in schlepping daughter and harp and violin around the place in the run-up to Christmas, and general November lethargy mean that it's further down the priority list at the moment.

Skywatch Friday - portents

Sunday's blue skies began to change as I worked at the allotment. To the south, all was cloudless and calm, but to the north mares' tails appeared. I felt a sense of foreboding, and checked the netting over the broccoli in the face of what I was sure would be wild weather overnight. The broccoli is coming along well, protected from the pigeons this year.



On my walk home the eastern sky was full of portents too. I was even more certain that we were in for a stormy night.


But Monday morning came with the first white frost of the year, and my first thought on seeing it was that I didn't have my frost-loving winter planting garlic in yet. My second thought was relief - at last some seasonable weather.

More skies around the world are at Skywatch Friday.

Broccoli art

One of last year's broccoli plants, drying out before being chopped up for the compost heap. I thought we might as well get some allotment art out of it at the same time.

It always surprises me just how small the broccoli root system is, considering what a huge edifice it supports.

Brassica cage (at last)

After a week of rain the sun shone today. Next week's forecast is for rain again, so we put in a long session at the allotment. The most pressing task was to construct a brassica cage. I had given in last week and and ordered a build-a-ball cage, but it won't be delivered for another 2 weeks. Meantime my first batch of purple sprouting broccoli was hitting its head against the fleece tunnel - you can just see it beyond the onions in the shot above. So ingenuity was called for, and the children's old climbing frame turned out to be just the thing. Husband and daughter are here manouevering it into position. We tried out all our stock of netting, but none of it was big enough to drape over the frame and attach securely on all sides. Work was therefore suspended for a trip to Homebase. One thing led to another, and it was mid evening before we returned to the plot for the netting ceremony.


I popped in the second row of broccoli plants recently arrived from Delfland Nurseries, seen in the foreground with their little anti-cabbage butterfly collars, and we then pinned and pegged the netting in place. Although we bought the biggest size Homebase offered, we had to cut in in half to cover the whole frame down to the ground. Clothes pegs came in handy to join the two halves of the netting together.


Once my posh build-a-ball frame arrives, we'll use the climbing frame set-up to cover the blackcurrants for next year's crop.

I've just noticed that the first shot shows our pitiful garlic crop. It's the yellow straggly stuff at the front of the picture. This was the first time I've grown spring planted garlic, and probably the last if I get my act together to order the winter variety in the next few weeks.

Progress

It's wonderful what can happen when you're not looking. After another busy-busy two weeks, during which we've been away for Easter, the garlic has not only sprouted but is well up, and the shallots are beginning to pull away.

I had a hard-working session at the plot on Tuesday, my last day of holiday before the office swallowed me again. My order of onions, 'New Fen Globe' arrived just before we went away on holiday, and were overdue for planting out. The lovely thing about planting onions, and shallots and garlic too, is just being able to push them into the soil. Easy! So I popped in four rows of onions, quick as you like.

Although the weather has taken a milder turn (tho not today), the plot wasn't covered in a fine green fuzz of weeds as I'd expected. Instead of weed-busting I was able to sow some salads: corn salad 'Vit', lettuce 'Romana Bionda Degli Ortolani' (that rather rolls off the tongue in an impressive Italian way), lettuce 'Quattro Stagioni', and spinach 'Hector'. I love corn salad (or lamb's lettuce, or mache), but I find it very challenging to grow. It rarely germinates well, so this year I'm sowing earlier in case our fierce Scottish summers (!) are to blame.

The purple sprouting broccoli is having a last, pigeon-free flourish:


The blackcurrant bushes are in flower:


And I even managed to turn some compost. This one of those shots where you realise afterwards just how...weird this photo-blogging lark is, when you eagerly snap the contents of your compost bin. But it IS interesting! Look - here are the remains of the beautiful Mother's Day flowers I received, along with wee matchstick things which my son contributed from his mega bedroom tidying operation brought about by having new carpet laid. The sticks are from one of those kits which are meant to be good presents for 10 year old boys - 'Build the Taj Mahal from matchsticks - hours of fun!' Eight years later the Taj Mahal is still unbuilt, but the wee sticks will do just fine as woody content for the compost bin.

Too busy for photos

This weekend's visits to the plot were real workparty affairs. We dug. We planted two rows of 'Solent Wight' garlic, and four rows of shallots, 'Jermor' and 'Topper'. I love planting shallots - just pushing them into the ground and that's it. We dug some more. We turned one of the compost bins and spread the lovely dark brown, crumbly finished compost over a couple of beds. A very short rest in the deckchairs, and then we dug again. There's still lots to do. While not overgrown, there's a certain scruffiness around the edges.

Amazingly, against all the odds, the purple sprouting broccoli has sprouted, in a late defiance of the pigeons. I didn't get a photo, because I was too busy picking it. We ate it that evening, lightly steamed, along with couscous, mixed salad, salad dressing made with balsamic vinegar, and oven baked organic salmon from West Voe, Shetland. Hence this shot of a Shetland salmon farm. I've posted it before here, when I was feeling nostalgic for Shetland (and posting it again is probably committing some dreadful blogging faux pas, but never mind).

Broccoli frustration

It's just as well that I over-planted with purple sprouting broccoli. In the week since planting the snails and slugs have had a merry time with the soft new growth. I'm assuming it was mollusc damage rather than pigeons at this early stage in the autumn, but all the same we're researching a frame for a netting cage over the winter. Last year as a frame for netting we used lengths of aluminium tubing cut down from the children's old climbing frame, but there won't be enough of it to cover what we've planted this year. Somehow it feels like a betrayal of the whole recycling ethos of allotment gardening, but since we're in this for the long haul it's equipment that will be used again and again.

Strangely the spring cabbages weren't as badly affected. Fingers crossed that it wasn't just because the munching hordes hadn't worked their way round to them yet.