I had a few days off last week, and part of the plan was to pay my final visit to the allotment. I hadn’t been since November, and wasn’t sure what I would find. Would someone have helped themselves to any of my stuff in the meantime, figuring that the place had been abandoned? No, everything was still there. What I wasn’t expecting was this:
Without informing me, someone had been on to the plot and cut the whole thing down to ground level. With absolutely no care or finesse, and quite a lot of violence.
Several of my plastic planters had borne the brunt, and won’t be reusable. Fortunately, it seems as though only one plant was hacked to death – I can’t even identify the remains.
My allotment has been bushwhacked.
I wasn’t chuffed. If I hadn’t been planning on giving it up this year, I would have been very upset. But we salvaged what we could – the final plants, and the tools and toolbox. It took 3 trips in the car to bring everything back to the house.
I left the compost bins in place, including the Green Cone composter, which is not rodent-proof. When Ryan lifted the lid to check the volume inside, he found it to be inhabited by mouse. Sleek, glossy and cute, well-fed mice, who had gnawed their way in through the plastic basket. They can keep their 5-star accommodation – there’s no place for it in the garden.
I will send the gate key back, and then my second foray into keeping an allotment will come to an end. About as successfully as the first.
Posted in Blog on Mar 3, 2015 · ∞
Last modified on Mar 2, 2015
I wrote (but didn’t publish) this back in May, when the weeds took over the allotment and I realised I didn’t have the time and energy that would be required to get it back into shape. At the time I knew we were moving, but not where; even had things turned out differently, I’m now too far away to keep the allotment, and am slowly clearing it. I have updated the blog post to reflect the new situation, but my feelings are still the same :)
Sad scarecrow knows it’s nearly time to say goodbye
My allotment and I didn’t meet under the best of circumstances. The man formerly known as my husband had left, I was getting divorced, and I faced the imminent prospect of having to sell my home and the garden I had lavished attention on for more than a decade. The plants I had collected would soon be homeless. Heartsick and despairing, I knew that it would be a long time before I owned my own patch of land again.
When I met the allotment one sunny morning, it looked as though it provided the ideal solution. A place where I could store my plants until they had a permanent home – or perhaps the allotment would become their permanent home. In the meantime, I had somewhere to get my hands dirty, and mess around with pots and compost.
But I had a long-distance relationship with my plot. I was a student, essentially homeless myself and unsure about the future. My allotment had already had at least one careless owner, and with my focus elsewhere it became ever more unruly. When I had the time and energy I tried to make a go of it; when the weeds died down last autumn, it almost looked manageable.
But when spring sprung again the allotment once more continued on its chosen path, a journey that leads through meadows and shrubs to its ultimate goal – returning itself to its ancestral forest state. It swallowed my plants in pots. It became impossible to find a safe path from one side to the other. The weeds conquered every inch of soil, and madly seeded in the hope of gaining new territory on my neighbours’ plots.
I have a job now, my days are not my own. I have chosen this town to be my home for the foreseeable future, and have found a place where I can settle permanently with my plants. My days, and my mind, are overfull. I don’t have the time, or the energy, to deal with the intransigent succession and turn my plot into the haven I would like it to be.
I love allotments. I think they’re an unimaginably important resource for gardeners without gardens. The good ones develop a welcoming, community spirit. Allotments encourage us to take exercise outside in the fresh air, to eat more fruit and vegetables, to reduce our food miles. To stay off the couch.
But they’re not for me. I am an introvert, and contact with other people drains rather than energizes me. My leisure pursuits tend to be solitary, ‘me’ time where I can recharge my batteries so that I’m ready to re-engage with the world. Popping out into the garden and playing with my plants is one of my favourite things, but it’s not so simple with an allotment. I have to make the effort to get up and go to the allotment, which is far from easy when I’m settled at home. There are gates to grapple with (an unfortunate necessity to protect the site from thieves and vandals), and the potential for running into people who want to chat.
I don’t want to chat. I don’t want to weed and weed and weed. I don’t want to strim. I don’t want to dig. I need peace and solitude in which to tend my plants. I need freedom from the guilt of a plot that’s out of control, and the worry of a strongly-worded rebuke from the allotment committee. Instead, I can commit to a long-term relationship with my new garden that gives as much as it takes.
And that’s why I’m breaking up with my allotment.
Posted in Blog on Nov 24, 2014 · ∞
Last modified on Nov 24, 2014
Tags: allotment & gardens.
Planting garlic ‘in the green
I went to the allotment this morning. There has been quite a lot of rain over the last few days, and I didn’t expect it to be dry. But I didn’t quite expect to come home covered in mud, either! I had to wash it out of my hair….
I was digging around in the mud because I wanted to rescue a couple of things. Enough oca tubers for propagation (they were tiny, and few and far between, but there’s enough to start again) and some of the garlic that Owen gave me last year. Of course, the garlic is ‘in the green’ – the unharvested bulbs have started sprouting from every clove, creating little clumps. I dug up half a dozen, brought them home and resettled them in a pot. Again, there might not be enough for a good harvest next year, but assuming they survive they can be the basis of an ongoing population. The other garlic varieties were shop bought, and can safely be abandoned (the garlic patch is now pretty overgrown).
I also brought home some more things in pots, including the horseradish I couldn’t find last time, two Chilean guavas, and what I think is the last of the goji berries (lots of things are, sadly, unlabelled!). And my sweet violet, and a Japanese wineberry that’s in a small pot and still a single whip.
It was too wet to take the car up onto the allotment site itself (the grass was sodden, and very slippery), so carting that lot back down to the car park has worn me out!
Posted in Blog on Nov 22, 2014 · ∞
Tags: allotment & gardens.
Ryan and I have (finally!) moved into our new house! And, whilst we had the use of a van, we collected all of the tall plants from the allotment. So the first refugees from my old garden have arrived in their new home. As well as my Christmas tree, there’s two cobnuts, a crab apple, a golden bamboo, a rosemary and a lavender, the medlar and one that remains unidentified until I can have a good look at it.
I also brought back two scented pelargoniums that I uncovered from amongst the weeds on the allotment – one is Attar of Roses :) They were part of an order of four; all that remains of one is an empty pot. One seems to have been eaten to the ground by snails. Frankly, I am surprised any survived!
And I found, but didn’t bring back for the moment, my horseradish.
There’s a lot more work to do, rescuing plants from the allotment and bringing them home, but that can be done over the next few weeks. In the meantime, we have plenty to keep us occupied unpacking indoors, and I have some nice big pots ready to be planted up with winter veg.
Did I mention that I now live just a stone’s throw from a garden centre?
Posted in Blog on Oct 17, 2014 · ∞
Tags: gardens & allotment.
I had to abandon my allotment earlier in the year, as it was engulfed in a sea of weeds that I had neither the time or the energy to deal with. All of my plants in pots, mainly refugees from the old garden, had to be left to fend for themselves – they had been swamped by the undergrowth. I don’t think I could have found them all, had I been so inclined. I hoped that they would find some protection in their leafy covering, but as the weather warmed up and there were extended periods of drought, it seemed increasingly unlikely that any of them would survive. But there was nothing I could do.
I think it has been around four months since I was last there, but I had the day off today and this morning I felt like I could cope with a trip to survey the damage. It wasn’t as bad as I had feared. Yes, there have been casualties, but some of my plants have survived – more than I had expected. It will take some time to clear the weeds and uncover the true extent of what’s left, but it feels more possible now than it did in May.
An olive, hiding under a bindweed blanket
Clearing the thatch away will be a gradual process, and I will uncover plants as I go along. With sturdy plants it’s simply a case of pulling the bindweed until it breaks free; with this olive I had to be more gentle, as it was poised to come flying out of its pot completely. But it has survived the summer, and even produced a single olive whilst doing so.
Free at last
Now that the weather is cooler and wetter, it should appreciate better air flow.
The tally so far is:
Tree fuchsia (sorry Owen!)
One Sichuan pepper (one is still MIA)
All of the asparagus
Cha cha chives
I brought home the pot of white saffron, as it has no drainage holes and won’t fare well as the autumn rolls on. I also brought home the Cha cha chives, which I have been worried about, and the regular chives, to sit on the kitchen windowsill. In fact, I even went so far as to snip some fresh chives for my potato salad at lunch time.
It’s a start. Next time I go I will try and solve The Mystery of the Missing Horseradish Pot!
Posted in Blog on Sep 5, 2014 · ∞
Tags: allotment & herbs.
“We grow! We harvest! We eat!” mural in the Exotic Garden at Ryton organic gardens
I haven’t felt much like writing over the last few weeks. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything. It took Ryan and I far longer than we had anticipated to get his flat ready for sale – having moved some of my things in, it was cluttered. We had to put most of my things (and plenty of his) in storage to declutter, before redecorating the whole place. It was worth it in the end, when we quickly found a buyer for the flat once we’d chosen the house we hope to live in, but it left us both exhausted.
The allotment has been left to fend for itself far too much this year. We tried at one point to control some of the weeds, but we lost that battle. I popped over last Sunday morning to see whether any of the plants that I have in pots there (the refugees from my old garden) needed watering in the sunny weather. I couldn’t even see them, they were hidden by a wall of grass and bindweed. Even the areas we had cleared were smothered. I felt a little bit like sleeping beauty, waiting for a prince to rescue me. Except that the allotment doesn’t need one prince with a sword, it needs an army of princes armed with strimmers and hedgetrimmers to break a path through at this point in time. It’s not going to happen.
We’re ploughing though the mountain of paperwork that comes with buying and selling houses. For the last couple of weeks Ryan has been working some insane hours. Warm nights and early sunrises aren’t conducive to a good night’s sleep, and sometimes you just have to concentrate on the things you can do whilst waiting for a situation to change.
The garden that may become mine was, last time I saw it, in much better condition. It’s probably a similar sort of size to the allotment, but it’s in three different sections. The main ‘back’ garden is a square off to the side of the house. There’s a strip along the front side of the house, and another strip a similar size and aspect on the other side of the garden that can’t be entirely fenced off because there’s a supply box of some description that the utility company need to have access to. There’s a lawn, some shrubs around the edges, and plenty of vertical spaces to make use of. The house faces west, with the garden to the north – at midsummer all but the patio is in full sun at midday. I’m not sure there’s room for a greenhouse.
I have been trying to think of a plan for the garden, but of course it is difficult without proper measurements – and there’s no point getting too invested until the house buying process is further along. I was originally trying to think of a ‘theme’ for the garden, but nothing really seemed to fit. More recently I have taken a more basic tack, thinking about how we want to use it.
My old garden was large, and gave me a lot of scope for gardening, but it never became a place where we simply went and sat. There wasn’t much of a patio, and most of the garden was in full sun (and far too hot) all day during the summer. There wasn’t any shade for us or the plants. With the new garden we’d like to be able to sit outside, have a BBQ and eat outside, and have some shelter from the sun. The living room has patio doors that open onto the garden; it would be nice to sit inside with them open and have the sounds and smells of the garden wafting in. Essentially, I suppose, I want a garden that is an outdoor room.
That doesn’t mean it’s going to be full of roses and carpeted with a well-manicured lawn, though. And it’s certainly not going to be one of those ghastly “low maintenance” gardens. *shudder* I’m still me, and I still want plenty of space to grow my plants. I want to be able to pop outside before work, or when I get home, and at the weekends, and spend time gardening. There isn’t a definitive list of the things I want to grow – I like trying new things, and I get new ideas all the time. So although I’d like a defined structure to the garden (something the old one never really had) that’s relatively easy to maintain, I want plenty of scope to experiment with the planting.
A compost bin and a water butt are pretty much essential. There will be some perennials, and climbing plants. I may experiment with stepover apples, and other trained fruits. Ryan is keen to put in some raised beds, and I concur – they will be great for annuals and biennials, concentrating most of my gardening effort on the plants that need it. I think a strip of herb garden alongside the front door would be both welcoming and efficient – with access to a larger kitchen again I’d like to get back into garden-to-table eating.
So… I may not have a plan, but I have some ideas. Now I just need the garden :)
What’s your favourite part of your garden?
Posted in Blog on Jun 28, 2014 · ∞
Tags: general & allotment.
My allotment doesn’t have a shed. I wish it did, because it would be somewhere to keep the rake (which is too long for my tool store) and to shelter from the rain. But on my fantasy allotment I wouldn’t use my shed for storage at all – I’d turn it into an ice cream shed. I’d need to run up a power cable for the ice cream maker and the freezer. Then all summer long I’d hide away in there, concocting flavours worthy of Willy Wonka himself, from the cool things I’m growing on my allotment (or that I could forage from the local hedgerows). And then, on summer days, I could open up the doors and sell ice creams to my allotment neighbours. When they’ve got to the point where they’re too hot to do any more digging, they can sit down and have a breather and sample one of my wares.
The most memorable ice cream I ever tasted wasn’t an Italian gelato, but a buffalo milk ice cream flavoured with lavender. It neatly avoided my cow’s milk intolerance and introduced a new flavour at the same time. It was the first ice cream I’d had in months, and a real treat. The trick with lavender is not to make the flavour too strong – like rosemary it has a bit of a medicinal edge to it that people find unattractive. It might take me a little while to perfect that one, tinkering away in my shed.
I started my ice cream experiments last year. This oat milk strawberry ice cream was delicious, and an easy one to make from homegrown strawberries. The flavour really floods out, even seducing Ryan (who is not a big fan of strawberries). One my old friends sprinkles black pepper on her strawberries when she eats them; I can try adding a dash to the mix and see if my strawberry ice cream gets even better.
Frozen yoghurt is another speciality, easy enough for me to make with goat’s milk yoghurt. (The Nutella-flavoured sheep’s milk fro yo turned out to have a strange mouth feel, but I liked it.) Lemon curd is a lovely flavour, and a good way to use up some eggs if you have your own chickens.
The simplest flavours might prove to be bestsellers. The allotment has lots of fruit plants (blackberries, raspberries, redcurrants and blackcurrants), and cooked down into a compote they are easily mixed into frozen yoghurt for a fruity sensation.
I can even do sorbets – the gooseberry bush furnished us with a lovely one last year, which barely made it into the freezer before it was scoffed. With mature rhubarb plants producing plenty of stems, there’s an opportunity there as well.
So… if I build my ice cream shed, what’s your suggestion for an allotment-inspired flavour? What would entice you back for a second scoop?
Posted in Blog on Apr 30, 2014 · ∞
Last modified on Apr 30, 2014
Tags: allotment & food.
One of my exes, a biker, had a peculiar approach to work-life balance. He refused to work on any day that was sunny, dry and warm – the conditions in which the roads got sticky enough for him to ‘get his knee down’. Should he find himself at work when this climatic ideal occurred, he simply clocked out and went home. He had flexible working hours and so I’m sure* he made up the time on drizzly and uninspiring days.
My own working arrangements are not quite as laissez faire, but having worked some extra time I took the opportunity to leave an hour early yesterday and head to the allotment whilst it wasn’t raining. The allotment hasn’t seen me in a couple of weeks; in my absence it has been concentrating on growing bindweed and dandelions.
I was impressed to see that my horseradish thong is alive and kicking and well on the way to being a special kind of garden thug. I was also intrigued by how many brown shield bugs were… ahem… active on one of the leafy remnants left behind by a previous occupant. He said it was spinach; it can’t be, it has resprouted this year from a root ball too massive to pull up.
I went to the allotment with the goal of collecting enough potting compost to repot my six new Chilean guava plants, which were starting to look a little pot-bound. I also planted my oca tubers, which were chitting nicely. Although colder nights are forecast for the weekend, I’m not worried. They should still be under the soil if a frost comes, and (like potatoes) they can recover from a touch of frosted foliage anyway.
I cut the flowers off the rhubarb (mature plants that have been on the allotment far longer than I have) and harvested my first stems. I didn’t get around to cooking them last night, so I have yet to discover how nice they are (the variety remains nameless). Watch this space….
By the time I had done that it was, of course, raining. It is April, after all. So I went home and pricked out my two Calamondin orange seedlings, and sowed 5 more seeds. But just before I left I discovered that my little Christmas tree (which grows in a large pot) has cones on for the first time. Aren’t they lovely?
Allotments are traditionally measured in rods, which gives you the other half of the title for this post. I have been writing about eyes at work this week.
*actually, I’m not ;)
Posted in Blog on Apr 29, 2014 · ∞
Last modified on Aug 31, 2014
If you haven’t already seen it, check out Google’s doodle for today. To celebrate the spring equinox, the first day of spring in the northern hemisphere, they’ve got a little cartoon human watering the plants. They grow pretty fast – must be weeds ;)
It’s a work day, so I won’t be celebrating the first day of spring by doing any gardening, but I did get out to the allotment at the weekend to make some progress there. Ryan helped me to set up my water butt in a new (but still temporary) location. It doesn’t have a downpipe feeding into it as I don’t have a shed, but it will collect some water when it rains. Ryan also helped me to dig out some unwanted rootballs; I inherited a thriving population of thornless blackberries when I took on the plot, and if I don’t thin them down I won’t have any room to grow anything else!
I brought home some potting compost in which to sow some seeds – three varieties of sweet pepper (F1 Sunshine, Tequila Sunrise and Corno di Toro Rosso) plus Garnet, which is bred for drying and grinding into paprika. The white sprouting broccoli and flower sprouts I sowed on Sunday have already germinated and are pushing up little seedlings on my office windowsill (brassicas being the speed freaks of the seed world). Like the peppers, my final sowing will take a little longer. Ibicella lutea syn Proboscidea lutea is a variety of Devil’s Claw or martynia. These plants grow hard, spiny seed pods that are shaped like caltrops and stick into the feet of animals. It’s their means of seed dispersal. That would be enough to make them interesting, but those same seed pods are edible when immature, and can be turned into pickles.
I don’t know of anyone who has tried growing Devil’s Claws, so if you have then do let me know in the comments. You can read more about my adventures in growing unusual edible plants (and the characters I’ve met along the way) in my new ebook, Jade Pearls and Alien Eyeballs. The official release date is 1st May 2014 and you can preview the book at Smashwords. It’s also now available for pre-order from the NOOK book store!
Posted in Blog on Mar 20, 2014 · ∞
Last modified on Mar 20, 2014
Tags: allotment & unusual.
I wanted to go to the allotment at the weekend (Saturday was the first (mostly) dry day in yonks!) but was given the opportunity to be an extra in a fun corporate video, and since that involved getting my face painted I did that instead.
So today I have been to the allotment for the first time in ages. The ground is very wet. My sloping plot isn’t doing too badly, but the grass paths around the site are sodden and make for slippery progress. The rhubarb plants are putting forth giant buds, and one is even unfurling a leaf. It was hard to get a good photo because the afternoon sun is still low, and shines in your eyes the whole time.
I sowed the last of my packet of broad bean ‘Karmazyn’, which had a sow by date of June 2011. I know the seeds are just fine, because I sowed some in a container on the windowsill and they all germinated. I didn’t get to the allotment to plant them, and so instead I used them to prove that sprouting broad beans isn’t the best idea! They rapidly grow too tall, and spindly in the nice warm indoors. You don’t get a good return on your space, peas would be much better. I am slightly concerned that my new sowings will be snaffled by mice before they germinate – I haven’t direct sown them into soil before. But I sowed a few extras, and I have seeds of other varieties I can sow later if necessary. I note that my allotment neighbour has broad beans plants growing nicely already….
I also planted 24 Triteleia ‘Queen Fabiola’ corms that have been in my kit bag since last year. I’m not holding out much hope for them still being viable, but they’re not going to get any more viable if they stay in the bag, and the instructions do say they can be planted any time between January and June. It was Rhizowen’s fault that I bought them – he says they’re edible. Oh, I’ve just noticed the packet says “dormant until you plant”, so there may be hope.
And last, but not least, I planted two different sorts of allium bulbils. I know one set are from the walking onions I used to have in the garden – I think they’re ‘Amish’. The other… well, I’m not entirely sure. They must be from something that was growing in the garden, but to be honest there were some alliums I lost track off and I’m not sure what they are. I have labelled them as ‘mystery bulbils’, which will at least remind me that I don’t know what they are. Once they come up it should be possible to have a stab at identifying the species. I didn’t have that many….
The purple sprouting broccoli plants are still very dinky, and one needed tying into its support again, but they’re alive and growing and they haven’t been eaten by anything – or blown away – so I’m taking that as a plus! We’re clearly not going to be short of rhubarb in a few weeks, and the garlic and onions I planted last year seem to be doing very well indeed.
Posted in Blog on Feb 26, 2014 · ∞