After the rush of Christmas and with a new year knocking on the door, the gardening sap is beginning to rise and I have itchy feet and tingly green fingers. I want to eat up the remains of the Christmas cake, sort out my seed box and burn off those excess calories outdoors. I am looking up and down the flower beds for signs of bulbs poking through the soil and scanning shrubs in the hope of finding tight, new buds. I also want to cut down the autumn fruiting raspberries and harvest the rest of the parsnips. Oh, I know there is a long way to go yet (the white stuff!) but I just have to have something to look forward to when the shiny baubles and prickly holly wreaths have been put away.
Yesterday, I headed off down the garden path looking for something inspiring to photograph. However, to quote my Nanna: “Duck, there’s nowt!” Currently, the garden is a truly desolate, dreary place. The ground is as boggy as we have ever known it and the hens will be growing webbed feet soon. There is not even the slightest sign of vigour, colour or interest. And, yes, it is still raining and yes, it still gets dark at 4.00 pm in the afternoon.
So back inside the house I washed my gardening fleece and gilet, checked my 2013 vegetable rotation plan for a second time and desperation set in. Apart from the seasonal poinsettia and cyclamen (both of which I have kept healthy for several weeks now!) the only thing looking at me was the spider plant.
I loathe spider plants. This one was a mere sprigling in tub of plants given to me as a gift and annoyingly I never seem to be able to consign anything remotely living to the compost heap. I just had to nurture the spidery element, even though it felt like madness. I think, to be honest, I was hoping my attitude to this popular houseplant, might change.
I should feel nostalgic. It was one of the first house plants Doc and I acquired and it was probably the first plant I learned how to propagate. One minute there was a large spidery rosette of stripy green and creamy-yellow foliage and the next there were several spidery babies hanging over the edge of the pot. I dutifully potted them on, gave some to friends and kept the remainder, who in turn produced their own babies, and so it went on. I must have grown on a dozen generations of the wretched plant. They gathered dust, the flowers were so insignificant I nearly missed them and I eventually got very bored indeed. At one stage, Doc did try to perk up one or two of the spider plants with a natty macramé hanging basket but it did not work. For me, the spider plant is a boring plant and is in the same stable as boring rubber plants and boring cheese plants.
Chlorophytum comosum, is possibly the most popular house plant of all time and true, it does have advantages. It is very good at purifying the air in the home by removing toxins and it can tolerate full sun or part shade. A spider plant even dislikes being watered, likes its roots restricted in a small pot and can withstand low temperatures, eg during the night when the heating goes off. But all this does not make me love it, even if it is one of the few healthy, living things around me at the moment.
I am wondering if the best place for the spider plant is in a seasonal arrangement. Maybe I should combine it with some ivy and some colourful spring bulbs. Maybe the spider plant is all about textural interest rather than horticultural prowess and I need to use it more creatively. Can anyone out there convince me it is worth loving? Otherwise I may just have to bite the bullet and creatively put it to good use - in the compost heap where it perhaps can do some good.
A friend said to me the other day that we are nearer to spring than we were in September. I think it was her way of cheering up a gardening buddy. However, we are actually nearer to Christmas than spring and I am still not ‘done’, if you know what I mean. No sooner have I ticked off six items from the top of the To Do list, than another few items appear at the bottom.
I am a really organised person and friends and family think that I have already got my Brussels sprouts simmering away on the Aga. But, I only ever reach Christmas by the skin of my teeth and I am usually panting as I stagger over the finishing line. I don’t listen to the 'Festival of 9 carols and lessons' from from Kings College, Cambridge, with joy, but with utter relief. If by Christmas Eve I don’t have everything, then it is too late. I close the drawbridge, put on a pot of mulled wine and we manage with what we have - which is usually enough to last two Christmasses!
So talking of Brussels sprouts, there always seems to be such a fuss about these ‘little cabbages’ of loveliness. We have sprouts every winter, always at Christmas, and no-one in our family has ever complained or ridiculed this vegetable. In fact, if Doc and I could grow brassicas easily, they would be second on the list after red cabbage. Not only are they delicious but I love the idea of picking our very own harvest for Christmas lunch.
People say Brussels are bitter, boring and they hate the smell wafting from the saucepan. Perhaps that is because they cook them to within an inch of becoming a puree? I don’t put my sprouts on in November for the simple reason they simmer for a few minutes whilst I am dishing up the dinner. And you don’t have to bother putting any criss-cross cuts in the base of sprouts because that lets in more water and they go very soggy. Sprouts should be firm and in our family the dividing line between ‘just cooked’ and ‘dangerous ‘ (ie attempts at stabbing one with a fork results in missile fire) is a fine one.
You can spruce up a Brussels with sautéed pancetta or bacon, shallots or herbs. I am told lemon or even chestnuts are nice with them. Personally, I just simmer them lightly and good gravy does the rest. However, I have shredded them and stir-fried them with other left over veg and that was tasty. They do have an affinity with Chinese or Thai flavours.
So, for me the challenge is to source our sprouts from the vegetable garden rather than the greengrocers. This is what we will have to achieve:
• Sow the Brussels Sprout seed in modules in April and plant out in May.
• The soil needs to be high in nitrogen and limed.
• Sprouts need a sheltered spot as they can suffer from wind rock.
• Plants need to be really firmed in, with a wellington boot.
• They need 5-6 months of growing time, with extra nitrogen feed to prevent the sprouts
from ‘blowing’.
• They also need netting – permanently. Cabbage white butterflies and pigeons are the
two most common pests.
We have got our work cut out if we are going to achieve all of the above. We have acidic conditions and the raised beds are not firm enough for the brassica family to grow well. However, IF Doc starts work on our new dedicated fruit cage next spring, we could move some fruit bushes and use that bed for brassicas!
I feel exhausted thinking about it all. Maybe I am Christmas weary and my energy levels are flagging. I will feel better when I have heard the Kings College choir sing the carols. By the time the first snowdrop appears, I will have found my mojo again and be raring to go on the plot.
