The top random number of somethings to something in the garden at sometime

So, I’ve noticed a little trend among garden blogs, in garden magazines and publications and I’m sure it’s very helpful and informative:

The list.

You know the list.

  • The top five jobs for the garden in July.
  • The top 9 herbs to grow on your windowsill
  • The top seven things to plant in February

Etc:

Anyway, as you all know, I like to buck the trend slightly and always swore blind I wouldn’t be one of those bloggers who relied on lists for clicks; but I’ve realised it’s been ages since I shared a how to or a plants bants post and I feel I’ve let you all down.

How are you even coping without my tips for parsnip growing in the nude or planting garlic to stave off vampires??

I’ve let you all down, so in an effort to apologise and make it up to you, I’ve decided to do what I always swore I wouldn’t and give you a “top random number of somethings to something in the garden sometime” post.

And in even better news, you’ll be getting one of these a month from here on in.

Boom.

You’re welcome.

I’m warning you the December one may well be a video special called “The twelve days of Christmas songs to sing in the garden this December.”

So, to get us started…

 

The top, eh, 10 let’s go with 10, things NOT to do in the allotment in October.

1. Do not think that now summer is over you get to go into hibernation and do nothing in the garden for winter. This is the busiest time of year for veggie growers. There’s serious cleaning up to do. If you take a break all winter because it’s cold or wet, good luck ever clawing back any semblance of structure in your garden next year.

7. Do not leave all your used up summer plants in their beds over winter, no matter how tempting. It’s so easy to want to leave them in the ground because it’s cold and miserable and you’d rather be at home. It’s easy to think sure the soil won’t be used over winter so what harm can it do leaving the plants there? WRONG. They’re fucking dead lads, get rid of them. I mean, have you ever left a cabbage or lettuce in the ground for months and then tried to pull it out? That shit is dangerous, you’re liable to either tear a muscle from trying to pull the root out of the soil or worse, pull too hard and go flying backwards, awkwardly grasping a cabbage mid air, wondering how this is even your life.

4. Do not leave the weeds because you think they’ll stop growing over winter. Weeds will grow anytime, anywhere. And yes the growth slows in winter but if you don’t dig them up, the roots will just get bigger and good bloody luck to you next year. Trust me, I’m paying for that little gem (boom) this autumn.

2. Do not leave your garden without planting over winter. There are tons of plants you can grow this time of year. If you don’t plant some winter food, you are wasting valuable space and time when you could be being productive! Chard, Kale, Broad Beans, Garlic, Onions and Oriental Greens are all excellent winter growers and require little or no care.

9. Do not leave your digging until spring. I don’t care what everyone says, turn your soil over NOW! You don’t need it to be perfect tilth, you don’t need to remove every little stone or bit of debris, but please, for the love of god, at least dig a little bit.

5. On that note, do NOT let your soil go hungry in October! Now is the time to feed it. Get yourself some well rotted manure. I cant stress well rotted enough here guys and add it to your soil where you intend to grow nutrient heavy crops like brassicas next year. It’s also a good time to get some compost into your beds.

8. Do NOT lose heart because your plot looks like shit. It’s October, it always happens. There’s one week every year when everything just gives up the ghost and dies. That’s normal but overwhelming. Simply accept the fact that nature is sometimes a hard mistress, accept and lament the loss of your crops then get busy tidying up.

2. Do NOT leave all those fallen leaves around the place on the ground. Those babies are gold, and I don’t just mean the colour. Dying leaves are packed full of nitrogen and make an amazing addition to your compost heap. Or you could go one better and make a leaf mold cage. Do not kick through the leaves no matter how tempting, collect them, use them.

3. Do NOT do what I’ve done and decide to redesign your whole garden in October. Don’t do it, it’ll break your heart. But do throw out old wood, rusted crap and general worn out pots etc, they’re just litter, you’ll thank yourself in spring.

10. And last, do NOT get disheartened by the darkening days and lengthening nights. Use this time to take stock of your mistakes and successes and begin the plan for next year because before you know it, I’ll be writing a “Top 13 spring beds to spring up in spring” or something equally ridiculous.

Planuary

Happy New Year fellow growers!

I’ve been slightly off the blogging radar for the past few weeks, mostly due the a little event that takes place around the end of December every year. I have a busy retail management job so Christmas is pretty much a black hole for me in terms of social life, gardening, writing or any other extra curricular activities, but here I am (not so refreshed) and ready to face another gardening year head on.

January can often be a bleak month in the garden. There’s very little to harvest, nothing really to do in the way of planting and the ravages of winter really begin to show on the plot. Everything is dark, muddy, dirty, tainted and dying and a visit to the plot is like a visit to a little veggie graveyard, each empty bed, a seasonal sarcophagus.

January, however, is also a time for new beginnings, for plans. January is a blank canvas, ready to be painted with the colours of spring. January is list making, seed buying, journaling, vision boarding. January is acres of ideas. January is all my good intentions wrapped up in dull, dark days. With this in mind, I am now petitioning to have January renamed as “Planuary” – by “petitioning” I mean, mentioning it once on my blog so I can use it as a snappy blog post title and then possibly forget about it until next planuary rolls around and I can use it again.

I’ve begun 2017 in slight crisis mode, I woke up on New Year’s Day with another bad flu and this weekend, just as the sniffles dried up and the cough abated, I broke one of my teeth (cue much wailing, panicking, picturing myself as a gummy old lady and shaking my fist at the sky like a curmudgeon). Needless to say, I’m a little bit cranky. However, the garden has kept me from going insane these past few days.

You see, I happen to adore the garden in January. The garden in January is like an homage to the previous seasons hard work, there are remnants of my success littered everywhere. I don’t look upon the mess with despair, the mess is a testament to just how much happiness has gone before. The dying plants, the messy beds, the leftover weeds, the dirty shed, none of these would exist in January if not for the success of the previous year. And so, I look upon the spoil of winter with pride and with renewed hope for the year to come.

My plot on New Year’s Day. Full of hope.

It does help somewhat, that I’ve still been harvesting some of my winter crops. My brussel sprouts and kale have been a joy to pick and eat during these lean weeks and my herb garden continues to thrive, even in the cold, wet weather.

Winter Harvest

 

Despite the dark days and the inhospitable weather, I’ve been busy on the plot in the first days of 2017. In a job that I’ve been dreading since early November, my rhubarb was in dire need of splitting. Rhubarb is one of my most successful crops, with my stalks reaching chest height in summer. My rhubarb is a lovely variety called “Timperly Early” and begins to show new growth very early in the season, just as its name would suggest. Already, there is new growth unfurling from the soil like a promise.

Rhubarb is an excellent and reliable cropper but after a few years (three to five years on average), rhubarb crowns begin to grow far too large and the plant loses its vigour and doesn’t taste as nice. As such, every few years, it is vital to to split your rhubarb crowns.

Now, I’ve been having nightmares about this job, not because I’m afraid of a bit of hard work, but because splitting rhubarb is just as violent as it sounds. Essentially, you need to take a spade and drive it through the rhubarb crowns, dividing them into new plants. With my rhubarb being the pride and joy of my garden, I was filled with dread at the idea of chopping it in half! Thankfully, I managed to enlist some help and my Dad did the dirty deed for me, splitting my three unruly rhubarb crowns to half their size. In payment for his hard work, I gifted him with the divided crowns for his own allotment! This now means that my own rhubarb has been halved in size and there is no waste as the discarded crowns now have a lovely new home on my parents allotment! Nifty.

The aftermath: this is one of the split rhubarb crowns

Another one of the (seven million) jobs I have listed for January is to clean my polytunnel. Over time, polytunnel plastic gets very dirty from being exposed to temperature extremes and weather conditions. I hadn’t realised just how grubby my polytunnel had become over the past year until I cleared out all the plants and noticed a layer of green slime all down one side of the plastic. Delicious!

So, yesterday afternoon, I pulled everything out of the polytunnel, grabbed myself a bucket of soapy water, stuck on some music and spent an hour or two scrubbing all the grime from the plastic. This job was made infinitely more fun by imagining myself as one of those sexy bikini clad car-wash girls who deliberately rubs her soapy boobs all over the windshield (polytunnel) much to the entertainment of nearby onlookers. However, given that it was only 7 degrees outside and I’m currently carrying a significant amount of Christmas related chocolate weight around my middle section, I felt that this bikini situation was better left firmly in the depths of my imagination.

The reality was actually in stark contrast: myself and my mother in our wellies and muddy jeans, dancing around the polytunnel to Wham! while scrubbing green gunk from the plastic singing “Soap me up, before you grow, grow…..”

It’s amazing the difference it makes to the polytunnel! I didn’t realise it was a such a grubby mess before, and now I have the cleanest polytunnel in Malahide. A fact of which I am very proud considering the absolute state the rest of my plot is in!

I can see clearly now, the sludge has gone

 

While I was at it, I also decided to scrub all the pots and seed trays that had been lying in the polytunnel and shed gathering dust. This is actually an essential job early in the year as it’s a bad idea to grow seeds in dirty pots as there could be any amount of old pests or diseases lying idle in the old soil. I intend to start sowing some seeds next weekend so having the polytunnel and my pots clean will pay off when I begin to plant this early in the season.

January is also the perfect month to get your proverbial sh*t together for the year ahead. Order your seeds, draw up your plans, buy your propogators and new tools, clean up your beds and sheds, throw out the old crap you don’t need anymore, fix whatever needs to be fixed before you begin your planting.

I have some plans for new structural elements in the garden and I’ve been making list upon list of crops I intend to grow. This year, I’ve decided to shuck off  the normal crops like onions and potatoes and grow more adventurous and ornamental veggies like sweetcorn and borlotti beans (apologies for the corny joke). I’ve also bought some heirloom tomato seeds and some very exciting varieties of salads and brassicas so I’m hoping to have a bit of fun with my plants this year.

Went a little overboard when ordering some seeds…

The next big job this weekend however, will not be fun. It will not be fun at all. I need to dig up my unruly raspberries as they are fast becoming the bane of my life.

Send help.

And hugs.

And maybe some beer.

I’m under a promise to share some tips on growing parsnips for next years Christmas dinner so watch out for that in the coming days and until then, keep the chin up. January may be cold and bleak, it may be difficult to get up off the couch and garden but remember this: in January, the whole year stretches ahead of you like an unrealised dream and that – so far – 2017 is empty of failure and full of potential.

Absolute Beginner

I find myself in the throes of mid-January blues, broke, tired, a bit soft around the edges; dark mornings made even darker by evenings spent dreaming of May. With no crops to harvest and an allotment that has felt the swift slap of winter winds and the rot of relentless rain; I am definitely suffering from seasonal adjustment disorder. As gardeners, no matter how we like to think we are masters of our small domains, we are slaves to the weather,  that’s not to say we are controlled by it, but we are tethered to it. It is the mean-time by which we set our watches. We dig in time to its beat.

This winter has been a strange one here in Ireland. We are only this week feeling the snap and shiver of frosty mornings, the grass only beginning to crunch beneath our feet. We spent the months of November and December in relatively warm temperatures for mid-winter carried in on weather fronts from the Atlantic that brought storm after storm. Storm Barney was the worst here in Dublin, with winds tearing down trees all over the county and leaving thousands without power. The rain has not let up for weeks, with many parts of the country completely flooded and homes destroyed. Christmas Day was less white and more wet. As for me, the winds drove me indoors and the rains kept me there and having spent the best part of eight weeks avoiding the plot, I can no longer leave her to the sorry fate that winter 2015 bequeathed to her.

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My plot has been well and truly beaten by the weather this year. There is a path of destruction through her belly, a river through her heart. My polytunnel is wind damaged, the door is hanging from its hinges. My shed has shifted about four feet to the right and is lopsided. My fencing is little more than ribbon. The protective netting over my beds has gone, carried on the wind somewhere along with my kale and turnips. The only crops left standing are my leeks, though they resemble sad spring onions. It has been a very rough winter on the plot. Yet, the garden fills me with hope. There are buds on my fruit bushes. My spring bulbs are poking their tips above soil. My rhubarb is unfurling its fresh green leaves like a promise.

I have begun the clean up, it will likely take weeks to recover. But, here I am, excited for the year ahead. You see, January may be the lean month, my plot may be bereft, but she is also pregnant with potential. January is an opportunity for a fresh start. In this bleak January, when it feels like music itself has died, I am an absolute beginner again.

And so, if you’re feeling fed up with the winter, if you feel like throwing in the trowel, my advice to you is this: put on your gloves and wellies, make a flask of tea, brave the elements, go out, dig, destroy, construct, sing, yell, cry, plant and clean. Blast David Bowie and have a sob while you weed. Breathe in the cold air and expel warm plumes back into the world. Take what has been damaged and turn it into something beautiful.

Don’t let winter ruin your wonder.

Begin a new garden for a new year.

January makes absolute beginners of us all.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8NZa9wYZ_U&w=420&h=315]

 

Fiona Cooks Food: Kale and Apple Soup

Hi All. Since moving house a couple of months ago, I haven’t been blogging at all. New routine, new challenges, new life. I’ve also had to learn how to cook. The horror. Considering that up until now, my idea of cooking consisted of sticking a pizza in the oven (and most likely burning it) this is a huge deal! It’s not that I hate cooking, I just hate stirring and tend to avoid it at all costs. This is a pretty disgraceful with me being a gardener with a huge amount of fresh ingredients to hand and so I have decided to begin cooking the food from my plot and writing about it. Warning, this may lead to a plethora of posts about charred veggies and my kitchen on fire. Watch this space.

Right now, the plot is in off season. The weather is bad, winter is ravaging my crops and a bad storm this week all but decimated what was left of my vegetables. I do, however, have a lot of Kale. Kale is one of my favourite vegetables so I’ve decided to try out a few new recipes as it’s in season, healthy, tasty and easy to cook.

Nothing says winter food like soup, and I currently have enough onions to feed an entire soup kitchen, so today I made a very simple and tasty kale and apple soup with walnuts.

I used two different varieties of Kale, both grown on my plot. I didn’t burn down the kitchen, though I did slightly over-toast my walnuts and there are bits of kale everywhere, but it turned out to be delicious and very filling.

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Ingredients:

175g Kale (duh)                                           450ml of Vegetable Stock

2 Apples (I used red apples)                   2 tbsp of cider vinegar

1 large red onion                                        Chopped walnuts

2 Carrots                                                       Créme Fraiche

 

Method:

Stab wildly at onion with carving knife while bawling your eyes out (pro tip: this is a very good time to have a cry about your ex, your bank balance or your dead dog as nobody will be any the wiser and will blame onion).

Peel carrots and roughly grate. This will be your gym time for the week. Ensure you do not grate finger.

Core apples and chop. Maybe use a third apple for inevitable casual munching.

Throw onions, apples and carrot into a large pot that seems large but when you’re adding the kale later, will seem like the smallest pot in the western world.

Add 450ml of veggie stock and 2 tablespoons of cider vinegar. Warning: do NOT take a casual swig of cider vinegar to “see what it’s like”.

Bring to the boil while undertaking the most tedious task of all time, stirring. (anybody who’d like to buy me a robostir for Christmas, I would very much appreciate it). Once boiled, lower heat – do not accidentally turn off heat on your impossible to work gas cooker – and simmer for 10-15 minutes.

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While this is simmering, gently toast some chopped walnuts on a pan. Gently. Black walnuts are not great. I tried. Not great at all. Remove from heat (this part is pretty essential).

Chop Kale. And by chop I mean rip apart with bare hands into small bunches and squeeze into the deceptively small pot. Do this a small piece of kale at a time, do not throw a load in and wildly have to stab down into soup with a wooden spoon. Allow this to cook for a further 3-5 minutes.

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Remove from heat without burning your new tea towel on the open flame of gas cooker and pour into a blender. Ensure the lid is on tight, kale is very difficult to remove from a ceiling. Blend soup and pour into bowl.

Add a dollop of créme fraiche and your toasted walnuts and serve. To yourself, because you’re all alone. Sob.

I had some toasted ciabatta with goats cheese with my soup. It was very tasty and wasn’t at all ruined by my tears.

Sit back, be amazed at your kitchen prowess and enjoy this very tasty and filling soup.

 

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Turn, Turn, Turn

Hello, and Happy New Year from Fiona Grows Food.

It has been a bit of a strange few months, hence the lack of blog posts, many apologies to my regular readers. I’ve been pretty busy in work (Christmas is silly season in retail), busy partying, busy living, busy having a bit of an existential crisis. I’m not trying to sound melodramatic, I’ve literally been busy questioning my life choices, and in turn, questioning whether I even wanted to continue gardening anymore. As such, my allotment and the blog have gone to the wall a bit. In fact the past few months, I could have realistically renamed my blog Fiona Drinks Booze with the caption “scene missing” and it would have been a more accurate reflection of my lifestyle.

However, last Friday, something wonderful happened. It was the 2nd of January and I woke up, still nursing a bit of a sore head from New Year’s Eve and decided to get some fresh air, clear the cobwebs a bit and see what state of disarray my poor garden had fallen into over the weeks of winter neglect. I hauled myself out to the plot, expecting the worst horrors that a neglected allotment had to offer. On arrival, however, that feeling came over me, that “I love this place” feeling that I only get in the garden. That complete happiness.

It was cold, wet and grey, there wasn’t a soul to be seen on site, aside from a hare who was fast asleep beside my shed who ran thundering past when I woke him. I remembered just how good the garden made me feel, there’s a sense of peace there, a sense of belonging.

Needlessly to say, the plot was looking a bit anarchic. There were – somehow, despite the cold months- weeds everywhere. There was a huge pile of muck and debris in one corner where my old compost heap had been which I tore apart in a rage in November, on my last visit to the plot in 2014.

The bloody state of the place!!

The bloody state of the place!!

The terrifying fennel, this thing was bigger than my head

The terrifying fennel, this thing was bigger than my head

There were last year’s unharvested vegetables: some sad looking brussel sprouts, a patch of limp leeks, a monstrous florence fennel, the world’s most overgrown sage plant, a bamboo wigwam chocked with the dead foliage of broad beans, bare arsed raspberry canes towering like seven foot tall harbingers of death over everything. Mud. Mud everywhere. More weeds. I sighed, put on my wellies, my trusty fingerless gloves, then I got my hands dirty.

You see, the past few months, I’ve been finding it difficult to get to the plot for varying reasons, work, social commitments, but also, a lack of motivation to get out in the cold depths of winter. I’d lost that thing that makes me obsess over seeds, soil and spades. It was gone. I had no desire to garden at all. I was bereft. But the moment I plunged my hands into soil last Friday, it all came flooding back, I was back in touch with my garden again, with myself.

I spent the day moving around my plot with a natural gardener’s kinesis, pulling up unwanted plants, turning over the soil in the beds, smelling handfuls of muck, talking to worms (yes I do that), building a new compost bin, stopping every now and then to smell the salty sea air, to feel the rain on my face.

I was refreshed, full of excitement at the potential of a whole new garden year. A clean slate, a chance to do better, to do greater. A chance to grow. Consequently, the planning has begun.

I often think January is the best month of the year for a gardener. There is next to no planting or harvesting, there is little in the way of work in the garden, apart from cleaning up the ravages of winter and preparing for a new year. There is simply hope. I spend the long, dark evenings dreaming up what weird and wonderful plants I can grow in the following months. Thus, the lists have begun. I have about 12 lists as of today. What to grow, where to grow it, how to grow it, when to grow it, where to get it, how to get the soil ready for it. The year stretches out before me like a blank canvas waiting to be painted and the garden is my brush.

The canvas awaits

The canvas awaits

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about seasons and time. Maybe my waning interest in the garden lately was simply a matter of seasonal affective disorder, maybe when my garden dies in winter, my desire to be there dies along with it. Thankfully, the seasons change and the garden changes with them, as does the gardener.

I am waiting with great excitement for this season to change, for the days to get longer, for the grand stretch in the evenings, for the spring sun to warm my soil and give light to life on the plot. Until then, it’s lists and seed hoarding and planning for me.

On a final note, as I stood on the plot the other day listening to the radio, this song came on which make me snort with laughter, talk about appropriate timing. I sang it while I thought of Summer, and of all the hopeful things to come in 2015.

January Jobs In the Garden

It’s dark, it’s cold, there are only a few hours of light a day, it’s wet, it’s barren, the plot is a mess. Sound familiar?

It may be late into winter but it is a new year and the garden season is just about to kick off. Despite the cold and dull weather, there’s a tonne to do in the garden in January before the planting kicks off in a few weeks time.

  • Most importantly, it’s time to get your soil ready for planting. It’s no use planting seeds in terrible cold soil in spring, so spread some well rotted manure or compost on your beds, If you can get seaweed, do it, it’s great for your soil, packed full of nutrients. Cover your beds up with polythene to let the soil heat up for springtime.
  • If you still have winter veggies in the ground, this is the time to harvest them, parsnips and the last of your spuds need to be up in the next two weeks so if you have a glut, get yourself a decent soup recipe (watch this space).
  • It’s a great time of the year to get any infrastructural work completed in your garden. Fix your fences, mend your gates, reinforce your sheds and your beds, these are the jobs that you won’t have time to do during the summer months when you’re knee deep in weeds.
  • You can get some digging done too if the ground isn’t too frosty, wait for a good rain then turn your soil over.
  • You can of course, get excited and begin to chit your early potatoes.
  • Prune your fruit bushes if you need, especially your gooseberries and currant bushes.
  • Wash your tools and pots, seeds will do better if your pots are clean, it’s the little things like this that make the gardening year easier.
  • You can begin to force your rhubarb if you are so inclined. Cover it with straw and an upturned pot to keep out the light and force them, you will get lovely tender stems early in March.
  • Buy your seeds, this is often one of the most fun parts of the year, choosing what to grow, shop around for your seeds, have a seed swap with your fellow gardeners, order some heirloom varieties, have some fun with what you grow.
  • If you have a polytunnel, get some seeds planted, keep them warm, water them well and you’ll be well prepared.
  • Broad beans are great to plant this time of year but make sure they don’t get frost damage.

In a few short weeks you’ll be grateful if you get ahead of yourself in January, it’s worth braving the elements for.

My plot this morning, very chilly indeed.

My plot this morning, very chilly indeed.

 

The Fat of the Land

And just like that, It’s a new year.

Fresh start, new plans.

Last year, I had many plans. So many plans. Some came to fruition, some not. Mostly not. I had a list of resolutions a mile long and a spate of good intentions.  But, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men. That Robert Burns was a smart man. I was thinking that the other day on the way to my allotment, how the best laid plans always go awry, and of course I began to hark back to that great Steinbeck novel. How all Lennie wanted to do was to “live off the fatta’ the land”. The simplicity of it. His simple plan, it’s not too far off from mine (I don’t however want to end up like he did, that would be all sorts of a headache).

I realised today that I can plan the garden all I want, life will always come along and throw me a curve ball. Mother nature will whip up a storm, a blight will hit, a slug will eat a cabbage, I’ll be stung by a nettle, I’ll have a work crisis, a family crisis, a personal crisis. However, I have a constant. I have a constant desire to garden, to grow, to get my hands all dirty. To dig up weeds, to drink tea while picking herbs, to squelch around the mud in my wellies. To plant seeds and watch them grow. To taste carrots straight out of the muck. To make fresh mojitos from my mint. To chat to my fellow gardeners, they know all of the dirt.

So I guess my plans can fail all they want but I will continue to try, because it gives me such joy and sometimes, the unexpected can make the garden far more interesting.

For 2014, I have huge plans, serious plans for the plot. I want to install a polytunnel, I want to grow tomatoes and chillies and peppers. I want to finally grow some courgettes! I want to have a pretty plot, I want flowers and herbs and pretty colours. I want a sanctuary for me and the bees. I’ll call it my very own bee loud glade, I’ll do Yeats proud with it.

We’ve had some really bad storms in Ireland the past 10 days. Floods and high winds, serious damage to roads and infrastructure. On site, there were sheds littered around the site, I saw a few destroyed greenhouses and polytunnels. Somehow, I escaped relatively  unscathed. One of my fence posts snapped so that’ll need to be replaced but otherwise all is good on plot P26, albeit a bit barren and forlorn after the winter months.

It’s the lean season, when you can’t plant much and there’s not much to harvest. Except of course for my parsnips, of which I dug some this week, it made me deliriously happy. I also dug up some Jerusalem Artichokes and picked some of my asian winter greens. It might be winter, but there’s life in the old girl yet.

First harvest of 2014

First harvest of 2014 and my rhubarb having a cheeky peek at the January sunshine

This is the perfect time of the year to plan. To plot and plan, plan the plot. Get digging, get growing, get a small pot on your balcony, build a raised bed in your garden, grow some herbs, grow some potatoes in a sack, get a bee hive, some chickens, a pig. Experience they joy of producing food.

Last year was a stormy one for me, but here I am, after the storms, still planning, always planning, still yearning to grow and ready to garden the hell out of the year. I’m currently drawing up the layout of the plot for this year so I’ll share it as soon as it’s done. Always interesting to see how differently it works out come the following winter. Best laid plans……etc, going over old ground now (see what I did there?).

Happy New Year to you all and get growing, you’ll thank yourselves this time next year.

xxx

Brace Yourself…..

isnns

As the honourable Ned Stark once said said repeatedly, “Winter is Coming”. In fact, friends, winter is just about here, the clocks went back on Saturday and now it is dark by six in the evening. It is getting that bit colder every day and before we know it The Others will be among us (well, maybe not, but it does no harm to be cautious).

However, despite the wind and rain and cold and darkness, I like the winter, it is a time to reflect, to take stock and to plan. With this in mind, I am going to get to work this winter. I have some major changes I want to make to the plot. I have a huge section of totally unworked land at one end of my plot which I am going to turn into a bee garden. I hope to add a small seating area for those hot summer days on the plot where I can sit and simply enjoy my surroundings. This is the perfect time of year to get busy with structural changes on your plot as there’s not a huge amount to do in terms of planting and the weed growth slows down significantly. The ground is perfect for digging, the rain softens it and the frost hasn’t hit yet so if you do have digging to do, do it now, you’ll be grateful in springtime. I spent a few hours digging today and it was fun! I love when the soil is as workable as it is now, it makes digging and weeding seem like easy work.

Winter may not seem like the best time to be in the garden but I’ve enjoyed spending time at the plot the past few weeks,  I had gone through a tough phase during the year when I didn’t even think it was possible to keep my plot but I’m so glad I did. The weather has turned but I like the dull rainy days on site, there’s barely a soul around and the place is peaceful, if sometimes a little eery.

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If you look very very closely, you can see a direwolf in the distance, I swear.

There are also plenty of crops still growing if you thought far enough ahead and winter can be one of the best times of the year in the garden. The food is rich, hearty and nutritious, and a hell of a lot tastier than the out of season veggies you buy in the supermarket.

My friend bought me this adorable postcard and I had to share it

My friend bought me this adorable postcard and I had to share it

My herb garden is pretty much the only thing that looks pretty at the moment, the only crops really growing in my beds right now are my parsnips and my winter salads. However, once November hits, I am going to plant some overwintering crops, garlic, purple sprouting broccoli, chicory and broad beans.

It’s hard to believe the gardening year is coming to an end, but then again, it doesn’t really end at all, it’s just a cycle of seasons, a cycle of change. Since I first got my plot, this is the least I’ve had growing on it at any given time and yet there is still plenty, that’s the joy of growing plenty of perennials I suppose.

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My asparagus is still going strong and in fact, is thriving at the moment, though it’ll be at least another year before I can even think about picking any. My fruit bushes are all starting to establish themselves, I have 10 foot tall raspberry bushes, a blackberry bush, redcurrant bush, gooseberries and even my two blueberry bushes are beginning to grow and have a beautiful colour in autumn.

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Blueberry “Spartan” (I need to physically restrain myself from crying “This Is Sparta” a la Leonidas every time I see it)

This week, I also finally got around to staining my shed. This serves two purposes, one, it looks a hell of a lot better and two, it protects the wood from the battering of the winter weather.

Before

Before

After

After

It’s strange really, because of the way my year worked out, I didn’t really get time to garden during the gorgeous summer this year, so I’m going to get on my scarves and gloves and make sure I get out there during the cold weather, there’s plenty of work to do, lots of dirt to get under my (Little)finger nails.

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My sage plant looking fabulous in the late October sunshine

New Year’s Resolutions

Its coming to the end of 2012 and my first year as a novice gardener. Inevitably, I’ve been thinking about the year past and the one to come, the mistakes I’ve made and the lessons I’ve learned and I am looking forward to another year of being schooled by mother nature.

I’ve also been thinking of my new years resolutions for 2013. New Years resolutions can be very hit or miss, some years I’ve had great successes, like the year I decided to quit smoking (four years on, I still haven’t touched a cigarette) or the year I decided to learn how to drive. Most years, I make one or two resolutions, just for the sake of it and I know that they are destined to fail; like eat less chocolate (laughable) or get fit (hilarious).

This time last year, I had no idea I would be growing my own fruit and veg, that I would spend hours cultivating a small piece of land, that I would grow perfectly straight carrots and imperfectly round peas. So, this year, instead of a list of ill thought out resolutions pertaining to me looking fabulous in a bikini; I have drawn up a few lists of tangible, achievable goals and tasks that should be easy to achieve (I hope). This is my list of New Years Gardening Resolutions for 2013.

1. Tidy the shed! Properly, and keep it tidy for at least a week.
2. Move the poorly located raised bed to a new location so the plot has a better layout.
3. Grow beans, the one crop I really want to try in 2013.
4. Grow garlic.
5. Don’t kill my courgettes by planting them out too early.
6. Plan the plot properly, use up all growing space where possible, instead of leaving ground unused.
7. Make some jam.
8. Build a small herb garden
9. Make time every week to visit the plot, rain or shine.
10. Install a water butt.
11. Learn to prune fruit bushes, I haven’t got the foggiest about it.
12. Hang a proper gate.
13. Keep on top of the weeds instead of saying “I’ll do it next time”, only to find they have        taken over.
14. Grow parsnips.
15. Finish putting bark mulch on the paths, I started in September and never quite got around to finishing it.

Everything else would be a bonus. I’m going to make it my mission to tick off this checklist in early 2013, lets see how it goes, I’ll probably still be cleaning the shed this time next year.

Happy new year to you all, wishing you the best for the new growing season.

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Here’s hoping we see more of this chap in the new year too

Merry Christmas

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Peaceful New Year from Plot P26

The plot in glorious winter sunshine. Not how I expected it to look mid-winter.

The plot in glorious winter sunshine. Not how I expected it to look mid-winter.

I know I haven’t been blogging much lately, I’ve had a very busy few weeks, I moved house and work has been crazy. I haven’t hung up the gardening gloves however and I’ve plenty to write about in the new year. Hoping you and yours enjoy the season.

Fiona