Sunflower

Think positive

Quick list of problems suffered this year: Leek rust, onion white rot, onion stem rot, potato blight, potato black stem rot, potato scab, eelworm, cabbage whites, whitefly, carrot fly, slugs, snails, pea and bean moth, red ants, flea beetles, untold weeds, and cat turds. Sorry, I said quick list. There are probably more that I've forgotten...

Finally time to write!

Finding time to write has been difficult recently, but work continues apace down at the allotments. I am motivated to write having just finished making a batch of fresh leek and potato soup, made from two crops that have fared very differently this year.

First of all, I am pleased to report that the leeks have been very successful, in size at least, they are a bit rusty again but that doesn't really affect the eating quality. Last year's were like pencils, these are proper leeks. The variety was 'Porvite' and they have come up nicely. Still not quite as good as I'd hoped, but I blame the long dry spell in August and September this year for stressing out my crops. I have tried a tip, which was to coat the tiny spots of rust with vaseline when they first appear, this stops the fungal spores from spreading. I can confirm that this doesn't work at all. I remember being impressed when I saw my neighbour harvesting his leeks when I first started, now I've got some to match. The smell, in particular, is amazing.

Potatoes have been terrible this year. I grew three varieties and had really small crops from all three. I mean, really small - only two or three potatoes under each plant, when I would expect a good bag full. I tried a 'heritage' variety, with dark blue skin and creamy white flesh, called Mr Little's Yetholm Gypsy. They plants grew well but the potatoes were small and knobbly, meaning that by the time you've peeled them and cut out all the bad bits, you've not got much left. Now I know why people stopped growing heritage varieties. I have still had some success with Sarpo Mira, thankfully enough to make my soup.

New pictures

Time for some pictures from the plot which have been lacking whilst I worked out how to use my new phone. Here is my beautifully painted shed, along with the Moog looking wistfully at nothing in particular, and my new Summer Ball courgettes which are more exciting than the usual green variety.

Weeds for Sale

Some wild flowers and plants are very beautiful, but I'd draw the line at deliberately introducing the invasive ones into a cultivated plot or garden. Not so for everyone, it seems.

My eye was drawn to a very overgrown looking area in my local garden centre the other day. 'That looks like weeds,' I thought. On taking a closer look, not only were they weeds, but they were for sale! I nearly dialled 999, Mrs Moog Keeper had to drag me away. They were in packs of six for £10, including teasel, creeping buttercup and other nasties. What were they thinking of, I wondered. "Wild Meadow Flowers" was the answer on the label! Ha! Weeds! I wasn't surprised to see they didn't seem to be selling very quickly.

Well, please do not rush out and buy a pack, I can offer FREE OF CHARGE any weed you like, fresh and organically grown direct from my plot! Please do come down and you can pick your own, if you want to. Then you too can be over-run forevermore with the damn things.

Beans, lots of beans, lots of beans...

I thought I would take a few moments to extol the virtues of growing your own broad beans.

Like me, you may have a pathalogical distrust of broad beans, no doubt suffering from the same post-traumatic stress disorder after being fed those horrible, grey, leather-coated blobs of yuk from the freezer compartment. However, last autumn, still high on the excitement of the summer harvest, I took the plunge and planted a packet of "Aquadulce" overwintering broad beans. Overwintering means exactly what it says, they survive the winter to give you an early crop. Behind a chicken wire fence they were safe from marauding bunnies and they shrugged off the worst snowfall for 20 years, to give a little cheer in the dark winter months.

You get several crops for your money; pinch out the tips of the plants when they reach a decent size, have them in salads; stir fry the immature pods; then, before long, we have beans, lots of beans, lots of beans lots of beans, just like the cow who was disappeared by Magical Trevor:
www.weebls-stuff.com/toons/magical+trevor/

This is the best bit: They taste nice! Steamed for a couple of minutes they taste sweet and fresh, in fact a bit like peas, rather than the grey powdery things of my youth. Finally, because they are legumes, they will fix lots of nitrogen into the soil, via the little white nodules on their roots, so they help the next plants along as well.

So, with this sort of four-way payout from the humble broad bean, it would be hard not to be converted. Moog doesn't really like them, he just gives me his forlorn "hey, this isn't food" face; I don't know, it's hard to tell what he's thinking these days, especially as he's gone stone deaf since this time last year.

Whooosh... brum brumm.

Oops. Whoosh, there goes April. And most of May. Time flies...

The grass and weeds are growing like crazy, and I spent far too much of my time last year mowing grass. So I decided to procure mechanical assistance. Item 1, petrol strimmer. After a few false starts this proved to be a lot better than my old battery powered one, no surprises there. Grateful thanks to Wise Mike for the gift. I have to say it is the noisiest thing I have heard for a long time, and have to wear ear defenders just to look at it. Brumm, brum! Or, WAAAAAAAAAAAGH more like.

Item 2, petrol lawnmower (oops, whooosh, there goes my carbon footprint). This came from someone else called Mike, and I haven't tried it yet. It is the sort that goes along by itself so I can't help being a bit worried about careering over all my crops by mistake. We'll see what happens. Long grass beware! Here I come! Poop! Poop!*

*(that's a Mr Toad reference in case you didn't get it)

No mention of April should go by without mentioning my wonderful wife, who as a birthday gift painted my whole shed, and provided me with all sorts of domestic items to keep in it, like cups, washing up liquid etc. and a box to keep it all in. A merry little scarecrow is also now standing outside. I was particularly impressed yesterday to find a jar of instant hot chocolate, so I had a cup whilst waiting for a long rainstorm to pass.

Time is an illusion

Over the weekend I was accused by a friend of being old before my time. Judging by my screaming back muscles after an afternoon of digging the plot on Sunday, I wondered if he wasn’t far off the mark.

But what does old, or indeed time, actually mean? I’m reminded of a Douglas Adams quote: Time is an illusion; lunchtime, doubly so.”

For example, time is dilated for the young. My five-year old niece was bitterly disappointed that the seeds she had chosen in the garden centre didn’t germinate overnight. Then, a week later, when called in to see the magical little seedlings starting to sprout, she was still disappointed, if not completely indifferent to them. I suppose from her perspective, she’s got a point. After all, seedlings look nothing like the picture on the packet, and nothing like the ranks of perfect nursery-grown plants on sale, either. With only tales of the magic beanstalk to base her knowledge of seeds on, she can’t be expected to think long-term.

There was a time when I lived for the moment, too. I still do in some ways, preferring not to let words like ‘pension’ or ‘savings’ tarnish an otherwise good day, but in other ways my age is showing. I used to drink to get drunk, and hang the consequences. Now, I’m ever so careful not to get a hangover. I just can’t stand losing a whole day.

So, I wondered what had caused the change, and if gardening really had made me old before my time. I certainly can’t take things one day at a time any more. How could I? If I didn’t prepare things last autumn, I’d have no garlic this summer. If I didn’t order my potatoes in time, I wouldn’t get to choose the varieties I grow. If I didn’t take the time to dry my onions… the list goes on. In fact, as my hard-working wife will attest, I spend more time wandering up and down the plot, with a crumpled plan waving in the breeze, than I ever spend weeding or digging.

But I’ve decided I’m not old, and gardening is not to blame, because it’s all about the anticipation. From the first moment of putting those seeds in the ground, I’m like a five-year old again, willing them to grow overnight, and wondering what they’re going to look like in the morning.

“Youth is wasted on the young.” – George Bernard Shaw

Now, where’s my flat cap?

Even more free stuff, and wee.

Arriving just too late for my Free Stuff post were about 12 paving slabs, gratefully received from another colleague at work, which will be used as a patio for The Moog to sun himself on. I say 'about 12' because they were so heavy I have lost the power to count over 10.

Next was some free compost activator. Well, wee actually. Sorry, I have to mention this, as Mrs Moog Keeper was horrified that, not to go into too much detail, I had decided to produce my own nitrogen-rich fertiliser. To prove I didn't make it up, here is a quote from The Allotment Keeper's Handbook (not to be confused with the Moog-keeper) p.170:

"...include some human urine to boost nitrogen levels. Yes, you did read that last sentence correctly. Your pee is a high-nutrient treat for your heap, virtually sterile and not in short supply."

Perrone, J. (2007) The Allotment Keeper's Handbook, London, Atlantic Books.

I told you it was true.

More free stuff, "tick V.G."

I thought it was time for a quick Free Stuff update, as it is the allotmentalists favourite type of stuff.

The autumn planting garlic and onions that I received from a work colleague are all doing well. I was given quite a few leftover sets and bulbs, which I bolstered with some more that I had to pay for, so enough about those for now.

Moog and I have recently had a couple of offers of free compost from family members, which is great because I need loads. I have already used up nearly all my compost from last year so any extra is very welcome.

First stop was Wise Mike's, who had too much to use in his own garden and was happy to reclaim some free space in his enormous compost heap. I bought some sturdy bags, which I carefully left at home, but luckily Wise Mike lived up to his name and had some bags ready for me to fill. The compost is lovely stuff, well, lovely once the old socks, bits of wood etc. were sifted out. It has already been used up and I hope to be off to get some more soon. Next stop will be free compost from Moog's favorite auntie, otherwise known as my big sis. So much to do, so little time.

Finally this weekend I have planted the first of my free seeds from Youfarm.org, I decided to get a few lettuces underway. Just a few this time, as I was a bit over-run with lettuce last summer. Also planted, for free, were some marigold seeds harvested from last year's flowers, all planted in free paper pots made at home from free newspapers.

All this talk of free stuff reminds me of The Good Life, they repeated the whole series on UKTV Gold last year and The Moog insisted we watch every episode. Well worth watching, I thought,(1) for jokes surrounding growing your own food, and (2) for the delightful Felicity Kendal.

Tick, V.G.! as Tom Good would say.

Allotments in the news

The National Trust have announced that they're going to turn some of their land over to alloments, which is good news all round now allotments are trendy again. There's lots in the news, this article from The Telegraph is a good example.

Quote:

"Digging the first new potato is better for body and soul than turning into one on a couch."

I couldn't agree more. I've been developing a couch-shaped arse and it's got to stop!

Free seeds

I have been introduced to a character called Phil, who, just likeThe Moog and me, started growing his own vegetables last year. Like me, he enjoyed it, and in fact, was so taken with it, he decided to set up his own venture to get everyone doing the same. What can I say? Respect! Have a look now:
http://www.youfarm.org/

I put my name down for Phil's free seed pack, and here it is, some things I've grown before, some I haven't. Looking forward to getting them started. My favourites are the Swede (because they are such small seeds) and the spinach (because they are green).

Insert snow-based pun here.

Well there's nothing I can do outside this week, with Broken Britain in the grip of Arctic snows.
I popped down after the first dusting of white stuff on Monday to take some photos of plot 29, but it's not really very picturesque at Stacey Hill. I thought the old farm machinery in the museum yard next door looked quite forlorn, so I took pictures of that instead.

Mouse in the House

In the excitement of a visit to the plot, it's remarkably easy to forget things that you wanted to take with you. For me, this applies even to such things as the actual packet of seeds I was going there to plant in the first place. I have now invested in a camo bodywarmer, which as well as making me feel manly, has numerous pockets for me to keep things I always need, like my penknife and bits of string.

To further combat forgetfulness and to reduce the weight of things to carry on my bike, I leave my old walking boots and a waterproof coat in the shed. Unfortunately the coat got taken over by all sorts of creepy crawlies in the autumn and was chucked out. The boots are still there, but I favour wellies at this time of year as the clay sticks like the proverbial sh*t to a blanket. However, as you can no doubt guess, I forgot my wellies last week.

The boots always receive a careful pre-use inspection, especially since I was scared out of my skin by a mouse hiding under a hessian sack. Thankfully, I did not find a mouse. No, during last week's check I found 4 peanuts, carefully stored for future use by some small allotment resident! I tipped them out and left them in a little pile, which was gone by the time I returned. It is a strange feeling to be sharing my shed with invisible guests.

Keeping busy

My friend Tom thought it would be all quiet on the allotment front at this time of year, but allotmentalism is an all-year round sport. He was surprised to find me planting leek and sweet pea seeds on the kitchen table last Sunday. We used a paper potter, which seems to be a good way of using up some of the many free newspapers people keep pushing through our door (much to the annoyance of the Moog). It was a Christmas present from Maria and Cameron, thanks guys. The seeds are already starting to show their little green heads.

Meanwhile, down on plot 29, work continues apace whenever the weather allows. I've started digging over beds and straightening up the paths - my plan is to narrow my paths to gain more growing space and use the woodchips supplied by the local council to cut down on the amount of lawnmowing I have to do in the summer. I wasted considerable effort on mowing and strimming paths in 2008.

The Moog, the Moog's friend and Mrs Moog-Keeper came to the plot yesterday and whilst Moog and his friend played with empty plastic bottles, we broke our backs trying to turn over one of my claggy clay beds. The west side of my plot has quite poor soil, and it really needs improving fast. I am going to have to bite the bullet and buy some horticultural grade grit from the garden centre at some point to break up the clay. Before that, though, I was pleased to use the first of my very own compost. All the stuff I've been chucking on the heap for over a year now has turned into some lovely soft soil conditioner. Let's hope it does the trick.

Christmas has gone, and so have my spuds

I’m pleased to report Christmas dinner back at Moog HQ was a success. My allotment provided three of the vegetables on the table, even though it’s been months since the end of the growing season. The lamb was particularly nice seasoned with my own garlic and rosemary. The butcher kindly sawed the knuckle for Moog to enjoy, too!



Unfortunately this delicious meal also spelled the end for my stored potatoes, but they lasted really well and I didn’t throw any away. I tipped half a tray of scalding vegetable oil all over the floor whilst trying to roast them, but I didn’t lose any spuds! I’m now very impatiently waiting for my order of new tubers to be delivered so I can start chitting them ready for the new season. I hope they arrive soon; it’s a tense time. They took ages to arrive last year, but it’s a gamble; if they don’t arrive I won’t be able to get replacements as all the garden centres will sell out. I’m sure they’ll be here soon; I’ve got Moog looking out for the postman.

I’m also back to buying carrots from the supermarket, boo! It’s only now we’ve gone back to mass-produced varieties that we can really tell the difference in taste. Mine were so much more, err, carroty, than the ones you can buy in the shops.

My own parsnips also taste much better. I cooked a massive pot full of these on Christmas day and there were hardly any leftovers, which I take to be a good sign. I’ve got a few still in the ground which Moog thinks we should lift and roast soon, because the tops have now been virtually killed off by the cold. The roots are storing well in the soil but with no tops, I can’t find them!

We took advantage of one of the less cold days lately to dig up the remainder of the tiny leeks, which had started to attract the attention of some local wildlife (I presume hungry rabbits). This, at least, shows it’s not been a waste of time protecting crops with wire. Although small, they cook up alright and taste better than shop-bought ones too. Next job: plant some more!