Irritating Onions

We have grown onions for years.  We plant the sets in the autumn, they usually grow away quite happily through the winter and spring and need little attention, apart from some weeding. They don’t attract pests, they store well (if dried out properly after harvesting) and are very useful in the kitchen.

But some years we get caught out and this is one of them.  Our onions have bolted which means they have gone to seed.  This is very annoying as it reduces the size of the bulb and the onions won’t store. 

We grow onions from heat treated sets because they are less likely to bolt than those grown from seed. Some varieties are less prone to bolting than others and I always buy sets which have the AGM mark.  None of this seems to have mattered this year!

Onions are a biennial plant which means that in the ‘wild’ they would form bulbs the first year and then set seed the next.  However, if there are strong fluctuations in temperature eg winter, then a warm spell followed by another cold spell, the onions think they are in their second year.  So they set seed.  We did have a warm spell at the end of the winter and then it turned very cold so our onions must have become very confused.

Another reason onions bolt is lack of water but we do monitor this carefully and the beds have lots of organic matter to help retain moisture. 

As soon as I saw the thickening stems - a sure indication that there is trouble in the onion bed - I was ready for action.  When the seed head started to form, I nipped them off but the onions still won’t be very good.  It is damage limitation, we might get a little bit of onion to chop up. 

The shallots in the raised bed are still okay and we should have a reasonable crop from them.  If I had the choice, I would prefer to lose the shallots simply because they are fiddlier to prepare!  I suppose I should conduct a trial to see which onions suit our local climate the best but I am not that organised, nor do I have the time.  In any case, the weather every year is so variable.

Leeks can occasionally bolt too and although we find the odd one or two trying to set seed, they are fine.   So, fingers crossed, this year, apart from some shallots, our alliums will be long and lean rather than short and bulbous. 

Salad Days

There was a time when I used tweezers to pluck my eyebrows but middle age has caught up with my eyesight and daring to do this task without wearing my specs is an accident waiting to happen.  Thankfully, there is another use for the tweezers and it is a very therapeutic one at that.

My tweezers are the tool of choice when thinning out seedlings and I keep them handy in an old tin in the shed.  It is great to park the wheelbarrow and spend half an hour sitting in the comfort of the greenhouse with some trays of seedlings on my lap and a cuppa at my feet. 

Most gardeners would like to grow on all the seeds that germinate but sacrifices have to be made.  If we reduce overcrowding and select only the strongest seedlings, the results are far better. So, I always set about this task positively, knowing I am being cruel to be kind. 

This morning I thinned out trays of Lattuga (Maravilla de Verano Canasta) and Misticanza Di Radicchi.  They are Italian seeds and I bought them for 50p a packet in the reduced bin at the local garden centre.  I have no idea what they are but the pictures look ‘lettucy’.  I am hopeful I have a bargain on my hands.

There is a rhythm to plucking out seedlings which is very soothing.  As I worked up and down the trays this morning, I could feel the warmth of the sunshine on my back and there was sound coming from every corner of the garden - and beyond.  Sometimes, as gardeners we get lost in the riot of colour and texture or the hurriedness of our work and we forget to listen to our gardens. 

The hens chirruped softly to one another, with just the occasional squawk from Ginger to warn the others that a cat was prowling in the long grass.  Pigeons cooed lovingly, there was a bird I could not identify, who rattled his call across the valley and all the time there was a gentle soundtrack of cars swishing on the distant main road.  I was startled when a bumble bee buzzed and tapped a window pane rather crossly, as he looked for the way out and calmed by a child laughing from the other side of the hedge.  I could have stayed in my little sanctuary all day but with the trays finished and my mug empty, it was time to get back to the real work.  But it was good while it lasted.

What a difference a week makes!

One minute I was wearing my gloves and fleece and the next I was reaching for a sunhat and sandals.  The garden is not phased, quite the contrary in fact.  As soon as there was warmth and sunshine, everything whooshed.  Roses started their ascent up the pergolas, the courgette plants trebled in size and the grass is now soft and lush with that exquisite toe-tickle texture.

The star of the week has to be the clematis Montana Alba at the front of the house.  It is all the better for Doc’s hard prune last year, otherwise it tends to be bare at the bottom with just a cap of flowers at the top.   

The hosta by the back door has put on so much growth it is already obscuring its pot.  I love the contrast between the yellow and green, the leaves are glossy and waxy and I always give them a little fondle when I pop out to the dustbin.

In the kitchen, we are making the most of the asparagus which needs cropping every couple of days.  This is its first full year of cropping and we love it.  However, if the yield continues like this for several weeks, I may run out of recipe ideas.  Doc is holding a fraction of what he actually picked the other day!  However, we won’t give it away, it is far too precious and delicious.

This is the first year I am trying to grow outdoor tomatoes and only have a few pots in the greenhouse.  We are going away for up a fortnight in the summer (birth of first grandchild!) and I am hoping outdoor plants will need less attention outside.  However, it is very much an experiment and for an experienced greenhouse tomato grower, I found it very strange planting the plants outside.  I am growing good outdoor 'doers':  Amateur, Vilma, Red Alert, Garden Pearl and Money Maker – so fingers crossed that we get a crop that does not need to be made into green tomato chutney.

These two raised beds have a new arch  which is another experiment.  I did not get round to sowing sweet peas to climb up it so I am trying some yellow runner beans for interest.   It has been somewhat of an afterthought but we will be more organised next year and plan the area properly.

We wanted warmth and we got it but the intense heat today is taking some getting used to.  Could somebody out there please turn the thermostat down – just a little, please? 

They're English!

Just as the daffodils have faded and flopped in the orchard, the bluebells make their entrance and I am always asked if ours are native English ones or Spanish interlopers.   I am pleased to report we have good old fashioned English bluebells.

There is a difference in the flower shape - the imposters have open, shallow bells but the English ones have long thin bells with curled back petals.  Also, the Spanish bluebell has a more erect stem but for English bluebells the weight of the flowers pull the stems over in a droop. 

We have droop!

Spanish bluebells hybridise with English ones which is a problem but whether you have Spanish or English bluebells, they can behave like weeds.  They have a habit of sprouting up everywhere in huge numbers and if you dig them up and put them in the compost heap, they grow happily in there too.  We are lucky at Springfield in that we can give them the elbow room they need but in our last garden, they nearly took over the flower beds.  At first we tolerated them and by the time we left, we hated them! 

However, you can fall in and out of love with plants and because here the bluebells are not a threat, we can relax and enjoy them. 

I cannot wax as lyrically as Emily Bronte does in the Bluebell Poem but I do take issue with her about bluebells being summer flowers. .....

The Bluebell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air:
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care.......

I think of them as spring flowers but perhaps they are the first of the summer flowers.......?

Mr and Mrs Robin Evicted

It seems that Robins are a current theme.  As well as the pair in the front garden, there is also a pair in the back garden and a few weeks ago, they tested my patience.  They are usually quite sweet, perching on a pergola until I have turned the soil over and then swooping down for a ready prepared worm buffet.  But a while ago, one of them flew into the potting and it took me ages to get it outside again and no sooner had I succeeded than the other one went straight back in.  This was repeated over a couple of days so I had to remember to keep shutting the shed every time I went in for something which was very inconvenient.

I could not understand what the attraction was in the shed but I do now.  Today when I was looking for the Azalea feed, I found a perfectly formed nest containing a clutch of 6 creamy white eggs, nestled between the Tomato feed and Potato fertiliser.  I felt very sad and guilty.  The couple had not been able to tend the nest because I had kept shutting the door to keep them out!  I hope they managed to set up home somewhere else and that there is still time to raise a family. 

Location, Location, Location is everything.....

Fagus Sylvatica Purpurea - Awesome!

Our giant beech tree has just come into leaf.  It is late this year due to the prolonged cold and rain during the spring; however, it has caught up with itself and delighting us with colour to lift our mood.  The red hue will gradually change to dark purple and in the autumn it is one of the last injections of colour for a garden intent on settling down for winter.

We call it our Monster.  Our house is over a hundred years old and when we moved here we asked a tree surgeon to survey it.  He said that it pre-dates the house and it was likely that the buildings were built around it.  If you look at our house from across the valley, the Monster stands out like a beacon in landscape, dwarfing everything around it.   I wonder if it can be seen by a satellite!!

I have read that beech trees can live for up to 400 years so subsequent generations will be able to enjoy its majesty too.  I hope they do but I fear a descendant who likes a simple life may decide enough is enough - because the Monster brings responsibility, maintenance and enough leaves to keep the RHS supplied with leaf mould.  Worst of all, it produces piles of prickly seed pods which hungry squirrels bury and forget about.  The seeds take root everywhere and Doc and I sometimes have a competition to see who can pull up the most beech saplings from the most unusual places.  Come to think of it, I could pot them on and sell them... (Would you like one?)

But despite the work, it would be a shame to lose our Monster.  Houses are built with much smaller gardens these days and there is room for the beech here – just.  It is usually recommended as a specimen tree in parks or large estates because it can grow to 49 m (160 ft) tall with a 3 m (10 ft) diameter trunk . We have had it pruned from time to time because our neighbours don’t like its branches scratching on their bedroom window at night.  We have to keep a close eye on it in winter too because some of the larger branches may weaken in the strong winds.  We like our BFG but we don’t want it in our bedroom either.

Horticultural books suggest that gardeners do not try growing anything underneath a large beech tree's boughs because the roots are shallow and take the moisture from the soil.  However, we have a healthy bed of hellebores, bulbs and solomon's seal to name but a few....obviously the Monster has not read the books.

Occasionally, we have a barbecue, sit on the terrace and listen to the breeze gently swishing through its leaves.  The rustling, the swaying and sunlight shimmering on the leaves is hypnotic and soothing, almost lyrical.  Wine helps of course because otherwise we would sit there contemplating how many barrow loads of leaves are clinging to its branches.

Repeat Business

Garden designers usually advise planting combinations which use multiples of the same plant to add impact and prevent borders and beds from becoming fragmented.  For us, this approach could become restrictive because we like collecting plants, lots of different ones and if we bought 6 of each new plant, we would soon run out of space - and money.

However, there are many plants which are repeated throughout our garden and they link the different areas together.  Many of these plants have spread themselves around naturally without any effort from us.  These include the primroses, poppies and aquilegias, all of whom are very promiscuous and seed themselves everywhere.  If we don’t like where they pop up, we dig them out and leave the rest to grow on undisturbed.  My view is that if a plant chooses where it wants to grow, then it must be happy with the conditions.  

Buying 3 hardy geraniums of the same variety is unnecessary because within a season or two they form a large clump which can be divided with a sharp spade.  Many of the perennials need splitting from time to time anyway as it invigorates them and encourages strong, new growth and increased flowering.  Chives and garlic chives are very ornamental, as well as edible and I have multiplied one clump into several clumps over the years.  If we haven’t got room for the new plants, we give them away.  

Another group of plants that feature throughout the garden are the ferns, most of which were here when we arrived.  Unfortunately we don’t know their names and since there are more than 10,000 species of ferns, I don’t think we are likely to find out their exact identity!

Ferns reproduce themselves by spreading fine spores which are found on the underside of the leaves and our garden suits them because they like neutral to acid soil and good drainage.  There are lots of semi-shaded areas and there are lots of trees, providing good quality leaf mould to add humus to the soil.  

Ferns are unfussy perennials, they are not attacked by slugs or other pests and they don’t ever need watering.  At the moment, ours are just beginning to emerge from their winter hibernation and there is something almost alien about how the new leaves peep out from mounds of dead-looking straw and unfurl like Catherine wheels.  In a few weeks, these young, acid green leaves will become dark, rich green fronds which add coolness, texture and bold structure to the garden and like grasses, they sway beautifully in the breeze.  I always think of ferns as the wild plants of the garden. 

Simon Says...

Regarding my blog post on 7th May, Simon, our photographer friend, has made some suggestions to help me take a picture of the Robin who enjoys a dip in our bird bath. He says, “...keep the camera on a tripod by the window readily set up or if it’s a nice day, leave the camera outside.  This will get the Robin used to the equipment being there as it takes a bath and you won’t have to scramble around to find the camera!  Even better, if you have a remote you won’t have to stand so close to the camera.  The other alternative is VERY expensive sensor camera equipment which tracks movement and takes a photo.....”

Thank you Simon – I knew you could help!  Watch this space... 

David Attenborough eat your heart out!

Another Photo Opportunity

Cameras are such fun, aren’t they?  When I was a child, my father gave me a Brownie and I could take 8 pictures before retiring to a darkened place.  Changing the film was a delicate operation in those days and all the more exciting for it.   I progressed to a Kodak and over the years both Doc and I have always had a couple of cameras in our hand luggage when we go on holiday. 

We now have a large blanket box full of photographs, none of which are labelled and many of the earliest ones are faded.  I have wondered about sorting them out but I fear that an index filing system would not add something to the collection, but take something away.  Now and then I lift the lid, randomly choose a wallet and sift through the contents.  One minute I find number-one-son playing in the sandpit, the next he is standing tall on his graduation day - and, crikey, I had forgotten number-one-daughter could ride on two wheels at such a young age!  It is a box full of jumbled, precious memories, just like those inside my head. 

Digital photography has transformed me into a prolific, happy snapper and I click away like mad in the garden.  My trowel sits at one end of the trug and my camera is at the other in case the perfect shot comes into focus.  I enjoy playing around with the pictures in my virtual ‘gallery’ and sometimes I try something technical like changing the contrast or cropping out the washing line which is spoiling the view.  Now and then, I dare to feel a little smug at my efforts and decide for the umpteenth time to take my ‘Art’ more seriously.  This is very embarrassing because of course there is photography and there is photography.

We know a professional photographer called Simon and he definitely has the X factor.  He has won 5 awards this year and there doesn’t seem to be anything he can’t do with a camera.  He can make a piece of industrial metal look sexy and more importantly, he can take 15 years of my face. 

Currently, I am trying to catch a shot of one our resident robins who regularly takes a dip in our new bird bath.  When I see him from the kitchen window, I grab a camera as fast as I can and if he is still there by the time I have got the camera out of the case – which isn’t very often – I either try to sneak up on him or use the zoom lens.  My attempts have so far have included images of blurred nothingness and a smudge flying off into the hedge.

I am sure if I ask him, Simon will know exactly how to photograph our robin splashing about in the pool but I think it may involve sitting under a camouflage tent for hours on end.  And that’s the problem with me, I would prefer to make an appointment with Mr Robin and have the photo completed in around 5 minutes because I have got other things to do in the garden.  Neither am I self-disciplined enough to sit and read the dozen or so photography books on our bookshelf.

So, unless Simon has a better idea, it looks like I will have to buy one of those artificial robins that the local garden centre sells as Christmas decorations and attach it to the side of the bird bath.  Granted, there won’t be much action in my picture, but you can’t have everything, can you? 

www.mackney.com

Keeping the Faith

This continuing spell of very cold, wet weather is holding back the garden.   There is no sign of germination from the parsnip, carrot and beetroot seed I sowed more than three weeks ago and I have re-sowed the raised beds again today.  But given the weather forecast for next week I can’t say I am filled with confidence.  They need warmth and I am doubtful their fleecy topcoat is enough to keep them happy.  As a backstop I have sowed some beetroot seed in modules but parsnips and carrots prefer to be sown directly into soil.  

I sowed assorted courgettes, butternut squash and beans in pots about ten days ago and even in the greenhouse they are only just up and about.  The cucumber plants are barely growing and I have covered them and the tomato plants with fleece because there could be another hard frost  tonight.  Neither am I taking any chances with two Dollar Princess Fuchsias which are in pots by the front door.  They are swaddled in fleece too and the lettuces are tucked up under their cloches.

But it is not all gloom.  My love-hate relationship with the rhododendrons is currently more love than hate because they are adding a real splash of colour to an otherwise grey outlook.  We have several varieties, planted probably a hundred years ago and each one flowers in sequence in different colours.  They are are quite boring the rest of the year but they are important to the character of the garden and act as a backdrop, giving structure and height. 

There is plenty of time for sunshine and with all this water about, when the warmth finally arrives, there will be an explosion of growth. We just have to be patient.