Perfect Parsnips

Growing our own fruit and vegetables means that Home Growns are at the centre of our meals, not at the periphery.  Even though we have reduced the variety of crops we grow, we still manage to make meals from a rainbow of different fruit, vegetables and herbs.  Parsnips are and always will be (we hope) the main event when it comes to winter root vegetables.
 
Some gardeners say that parsnips are fussy additions to the vegetable plot but with practise they are reliable. They like a rich soil, but not newly manured.  Seed must be fresh and needs warmth to germinate.  We live in the midlands so we don’t even try to get them started until mid April at the earliest.  It would be a good idea to start them off in modules in the greenhouse and transplant outside when the weather warms up, but they prefer to be direct-sowed.  Frustratingly, a parsnip seed can take as long as 3 weeks to germinate so you will need patience.

Once they are growing they need careful thinning as they take a lot of room up but you can interplant the rows with radishes for a quick catch crop.

'Gladiator' is an excellent, sweet, heavy-producing parsnip, which never gets too woolly.  The advice is to harvest them small but we have produced some whoppers which are just as tasty as the smaller ones.  However, don’t be tempted to lift your parsnips early because they taste so much better after the first frosts.  Low night-time temperatures convert the starch to sugar resulting in a sweeter parsnip.  

We find that parsnips store better in the ground and we harvest them to order. However, if there is very cold weather, digging them up is a real challenge. We have, once or twice, resorted to buying some from the shops because the ground is rock hard!  If you do want to keep some parsnips for a few days, don’t wash off the soil, just wrap them in several layers of newspaper and store them in a cool, dark place.

Parsnips make a great winter soup.  I use two or three parsnips, a potato, an onion and enough curry powder or garam masala to make it mildly spicy.  It is the ultimate comfort food though mashed potatoes and parsnips come a close second.

A Sunday is not complete unless we have roasted parsnips and they always grace the Christmas lunch table.  Peel and cut them into chunks, removing any tough core and then toss them in oil.  Roast in a hot oven for 30-40 minutes, toss in grated parmesan cheese and roast for a further 10 minutes.

For a different topping to Shepherd’s pie, try grating parsnip on the top instead of mashed potato and if you feel like you need a Christmas treat and are a French Fry fan, then turn some parsnips into chips.  You will not be disappointed.  But for us, true decadence is layered parsnip and potato, smothered in double cream and baked. Topped with parmesan cheese and roasted until crisp and golden brown, it is delicious. 

Happy Christmas and best wishes for 2015.

Upbeat November

I have turned a corner – well, I think I have. (Nearly.)  My foot problems began a year last March and finally I underwent surgery 6 weeks ago in October, which was like having my already painful foot walloped with a lump hammer!  It has been a long and difficult journey but the road ahead is beginning to look straighter and the bumps underfoot feel a little less bumpy.  I hope this is not a mirage - but I can see a hazy, dim light for the first time in over 18 months.  I must press on, head towards it and never look back.

November is associated grey skies, damp grass and slimy leaves, as well as cold nights and short days. This year, the month started uncharacteristically mild with sunny, dry days.  Now Jack Frost is making his presence known and we have seen a couple of white-outs across the valley.  Autumn has bitten the garden with ice-cold jaws.

This morning, when the watery, fleeting sunshine had melted the tiny ice crystals clinging to the blades of grass, I wandered into the garden with my camera.  For longer than I can remember, walking has required the same level of concentration as threading the eye of a needle with a fine thread and the idea of actually doing something as well as walking (such as talking or looking around), was an alien concept.  However, today I took some photographs whilst standing up and took the odd step this way and that.  I was thinking about the picture and not the standing which for me is a breakthrough, dare I say a small miracle.  Maybe, using a pair of secateurs whilst standing up is a realistic target?

Springfield is going to sleep yet I feel like I am waking up after an long, unspecified absence.  It is doubtful I will ever leap up with reckless abandon, nor would it be advised even if my bones did not break quite so easily.  However I am stretching out my limbs, starting to look around and the landscape appears very different.  It is like I am seeing for the first time and I am seeing potential, not necessarily the garden's potential, but mine. Maybe I can do things, not all of them, but some.  If the garden can grow and change with every season, so can I.

It may be dismal outside but there is colour and form if you look closely at the detail.  The vegetable garden is browner than I would like. The leeks and parsnips are sad-looking but a blessing in the kitchen.  The parsley is unstoppable and is growing verdantly despite the low temperatures.  It almost looks defiant.  This bright green colour makes a change from the red and yellow of autumn leaves!

Believe or not, two roses are still in flower and one has buds ready to burst.  Surprise, surprise, the cotoneaster still has some juicy red berries to admire so obviously the birds have found food elsewhere.  But the showstopper is the solitary clematis flower on the pergola at the side of the lawn.  We have never seen that before in November!

Of course, the good garden stalwarts deliver as expected, such as the dogwoods (yellow and red cornus), evergreen sweet box (Sarcococca), ‘Autumn Joy’ (Sedum) and yellow jasmine ( Jasminum nudiflorum).  No garden is complete without these plants for autumn and winter colour. 

Back inside, after a much needed sit down and a coffee, I then set to work making a Gooseberry Frangipane Tart using some red and green 'goosegogs' from the freezer.  I make a huge one and freeze it in smaller portions than Doc would like. I admit I did not make my own sweet pastry but I do have an excuse!  It is a really easy recipe - see below for details.

Today has been a good day.  I am finally sitting down with both my feet up on a stool.  It feels great to have been into the garden, to have achieved something, to be there.  Long may it continue.  I just have to take it one step at a time.

Gooseberry Frangipane Tart

200g unsalted butter
200g caster sugar
6 eggs
80g plain flour
250g ground almonds
3 heaped tabls gooseberry jam
400g gooseberries, frozen then defrosted
500g frozen dessert pastry, defrosted

Roll out the pastry on a floured surface, and line a large 24cm-26cm deep, loose-bottomed flan tin. Chill for half an hour.  Heat the oven to 180 C, Gas mark 4. I used our electric fan oven which has a fan and bottom heat control.  This means I don’t have to bake the pastry blind as the tart can be baked on the base of the oven – which reduces risk of a soggy bottom!  However, you can if you prefer, bake the pastry blind first, before you put the filling in.

Beat butter and sugar for 2 minutes, then add the eggs slowly, beating well. Sift together the flour and ground almonds, add to the butter mixture. Beat for 1 minute.

To assemble the tart, spread the jam in the base of the chilled pastry case. Spoon the frangipane cream over the jam and then top with gooseberries. Bake in a preheated 180°C oven for 45-50 minutes, until the tart is golden brown and set in the middle.  Cool in the tin for 20 mins and then turn it out on a wire cooling rack.  Serve dusted with icing sugar and whipped cream flavoured with elderflower cordial.  Doc prefers custard though!

Hopeful

Doc and I have been away for a couple of weeks, first to Dorset and Hampshire, visiting Number One Daughter and then to Derry in Northern Ireland, visiting Number One Son and family.  We had a great time and the weather was amazing for both trips.  We delved into the deepest recesses of the suitcase to find short sleeved tee-shirts and wore sunglasses most days.  The bonus was to sit outside during the evenings, enjoying sunshine, warmth and flowers.  How strange our weather is!  The last half of August felt like autumn and no sooner had we got settled into September, than summer arrived again. 

We needed a holiday because in a couple of week’s time I will be having surgery on my painful and troublesome foot.  The diary is cleared in readiness, I have invested in a new non-slip bath mat and the freezer is stuffed with produce from the garden for Doc to transform into comforting meals whilst I am ‘off feet’ – though I have hardly been ‘on feet’ for the last 18 months.  It will be quite a while until I dare to attempt to walk down the garden path but if the operation is a success I will, hopefully, be able to look forward to joining Doc on the plot next season, without a walking stick.

Doc is at this very moment continuing to ‘put the garden to bed’.  Today he has swept and tidied the greenhouse and cleaned the windows.  Earlier, he popped back to the house for a cuppa and said there is about 50% more light getting through the glass!  It is important to keep a greenhouse clean otherwise pests and disease can take hold.  Giving it a spring clean in the autumn (!) before you fill it with overwintering plants and equipment is a good idea.  I hate the fact we stuff such a lovely space with cloches, hosepipes and the arch for the beans but if we leave them outside, a harsh winter would damage them.  Doc has filled a cold frame with watering cans.  If we leave them empty they blow around the garden and if we fill them up with water, we face cleaning out green slime in the spring.

Doc tells me that the compost bin is hot and smells of decay – but in a good way.  He has gradually been adding spent green material from the vegetable plot and mixes it with straw, cardboard and anything brown he can find.  He says it is turning the compost that makes it work and he does this regularly with a fork.  Mind you, not everything goes into the compost.  For instance, the asparagus ferns must be burned otherwise the asparagus beetle will take even more of a hold.  (If you have any other tips to get round this problem, please let me know!)

There is still produce arriving in the kitchen, reminding me that the garden has not quite gone to sleep.  We are eating courgettes every other day, though they have definitely outstayed their welcome.  There are green tomatoes on trays on the kitchen table which gradually turn red.  They are very welcome, as are bowls brimming with glossy black brambles.  Doc has put cooking and eating apples in old banana boxes, lined with newspaper, in the garage.  This takes longer than you would think because each fruit has to be carefully placed so it does not roll over and not touch its neighbour.  If it does, any rot can spread to the rest of the crop. The garlic is strung up around the rafters (so we should be clear of witches at least) and there are 6 large butternut squash to look forward to.  Doc is eagerly anticipating digging up the first leeks but he will have to be more patient for parsnips.  They are best eaten after the first frosts because they become sweeter as the weather gets colder.

Doc does keep bringing me parsley.  I have never known a year when it has been so prolific and I groan when another bunch arrives.  I use it in salsa, toss it into steamed vegetables and have frozen handfuls of it in bags to use this coming winter. However, there is still more to come and I am wondering if I could put it in a vase as a cut flower! The vibrant green is uplifting and the curly leaves have a wonderful texture.  I have come across a recipe for parsley soup which makes good use of all that vitamin C but I am doubtful it will taste as good as it sounds.  I may try making parsley pesto instead.

After the driest September we can remember, it is raining on and off today and the garden is giving a little sigh of relief.  The leaves are falling and Doc says that although there is a lot of dead heading to do in the flower borders, there are fewer new blooms taking their place.

Sometimes I feel cheated that I have not been able to feel the full benefit and joy of such a wonderful summer and delightful autumn because I have been in so much pain, for so long.  However, if my op is a success, I won’t mind being outside in a howling gale, torrential rain or freezing cold.  I will be deliriously happy to be a mad, eccentric woman gardening in the depths of winter.  I won't mind the weather, just being there will be enough.

Autumn has arrived

After such a hot summer, autumn arrived surprisingly early. The purple beech tree at the back of the house started to glisten with coppery tones towards the end of August and watering the tubs of blooming pelargonium with beech leaves fluttering down like confetti was a little sad.

I have been mostly absent from the garden this summer; the pain has been so unbearable at times that sometimes I can barely venture out to the dustbin.  However, the garden is rarely absent from me because Doc steadfastly and regularly deposits a large trug brimming with produce onto the kitchen table.  We have had enough runner beans to supply a supermarket and ditto, the cucumbers.  We are not quite fed up with courgettes, lettuce or cherry tomatoes but it is getting that way.  (Number One Son suggested a new recipe – see below - which is adapted from a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall recipe.  It makes a change from the usual courgette staples if you are desperate.)

The autumn fruiting raspberries are a disappointment.  Although we have enjoyed these luscious berries for breakfast, there have only been a few extra to freeze. Doc says the canes are old and worn out so he will replace them next year.  However, the cultivated blackberries are star performers and we have been turning our tongues black daily. The squash are not really squashing which is intriguing because I thought butternut squash needs lots of heat and we have had plenty of that....perhaps they were too dry......?

Despite the chill in the air and heavy dew most mornings, last weekend developed into warm sunshine on both Saturday and Sunday. Doc stoked up the barbecue, probably for the last time this year and he tortured the neighbours with a delicious, smoky chicken aroma, and added courgettes smothered in lemon oil for good measure.  I managed to walk down to the greenhouse for a potter about and I removed as many leaves as I dare from the tomato plants.  My theory is that all the energy will be directed into the fruits not the leaves and by exposing the green tomatoes to the sunshine will turn them a healthy shade of red.  The thermometer in the greenhouse suggested an Indian summer but I am not so sure.  The leaves on the trees don’t lie, do they? 

It is hard watching Doc racing around with the wheelbarrow, pruning and tidying and cutting the grass whilst I hover in the verges and contribute very little.  I am yet again waiting for treatment for my foot but it is a slow, slow process and life will continue to be uncertain for some time to come.  Gardening teaches you to be patient.  I am only bordering on a C grade so I must try harder.

Courgette Polpette
500g courgettes, grated
1 tabls oil
1 beaten egg
2 tabls grated parmesan cheese
½ ball mozzarella, chopped
50 g breadcrumbs
1-2 tabls chopped parsley
1-2 cloves garlic, crushed or chopped
Salt and pepper to taste

Sauté the courgette in a little oil until it collapses and starts to turn brown.  Cool.  Combine with the rest of the ingredients.  The mixture will be sticky.  Mould into golf ball shapes and bake in a moderately hot oven for 20-15 minutes.  Serve with salads or a piquant tomato sauce and pasta.  And very nice it is too.

Gardens are for sharing

Summer is one of the busiest times of year in the garden yet armies of gardeners up and down the country pile on even more pressure by opening their gardens to the public under the National Gardens Scheme (www.ngs.org.uk) – affectionately known as the Yellow Book Scheme.  They hoover their lawns, give the clematis a shampoo and set, propagate plants and make hundreds of cakes, all to raise money for charity.  Since its foundation, the NGS has raised over £42 million and we are indebted to those dedicated gardeners who generously and bravely share their gardens with the rest of us.

Doc and I toyed with the idea of opening Springfield under NGS scheme and do our bit for the cause.  However, we soon realised that plot is a health and safety disaster waiting to happen.  We have one area known as the Kamikaze drop, another called the Burglar Trap but the real test of courage is to walk along the gravel path that is drifting down an unfenced, steep bank.   We are fine of course (note the cavalier attitude!), because we know where disaster lies but to unsuspecting visitors, some of whom may be elderly and probably wearing normal shoes rather than crampons, they would be vulnerable.  Doc would be called upon to use his medical skills rather than his gardening ones. 

Since we now have a young but very mobile and inquisitive granddaughter and also the fact that I have problems with walking, Doc and I have talked about improving the accessibility of our garden.  But the To Do list grows faster than rosebay willowherb, doesn’t it?   So instead we work to the principle that Visitors Must Be Supervised At All Times.

Still, this does not stop us from supporting the NGS scheme because we visit open gardens whenever and wherever we can.  It is always a joy to wander around someone else’s garden.  We are inspired by new ideas and different plants and love to chat with like-minded people over tea and cake.  It is a pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon and we always come home refreshed.

They say that a garden reveals the personality of the gardener or gardeners who tend it and having visited many NGS gardens, we would agree.  There are relaxed’ gardens where the owners allow plants to grow free-form without much pruning.  The result is a natural, informal space, usually full of wildlife.  Conversely, we have felt hedge and lawn envy in many a ‘neat and tidy’ garden.  But nothing is as potent as the passionate gardeners who simply love collecting plants.  They fill every border, pot, and fence with interesting and unusual specimens and they always know the names of all their treasures.  Amazing!

I am not sure what Springfield says about our personalities.  There is considerable evidence of devastation because Doc spends many a weekend chopping his way through jungle-sized shrubs and trees, but being known as ‘slash and burn’ gardeners sounds like a contradiction in terms - and very sad.  Considering the challenging terrain in our plot, maybe I would prefer us being described as ‘risk takers’.  It sounds much edgier.  

Strawberries with everything

It is a really good year for strawberries and we are submerged in a sea of juicy pink ripeness.  This morning I spent an hour in glorious sunshine, harvesting the bounty.  We eat them whilst we pick, enjoy a handful of them on muesli and yogurt for breakfast.  We eat them for lunch, a snack in the afternoon and with ice cream for tea.  I puree them for the freezer to make mousse later in the year and to stir into porridge during the winter.  Later today I will make up a batch of fruity frozen yogurt full of natural sweetness.  If we could eat strawberries with gravy for dinner, we would.  With such an abundant crop we don't even need to worry about the slugs and snails because there is plenty for everyone.  Gardening doesn't get better than this.

Snazzy Dahlias

We have tentatively stepped into the world of dahlias.  Doc and I were stocking up with twine and tomato feed at a local garden centre when were attracted to some pots of vibrantly coloured dahlias.  The red and white ‘buy one get one free’ sign clinched the deal.

Up until then, all I knew about dahlias was that they are tender tubers, a traditional cut flower and grown for showing.  I also thought, mistakenly, that if the dahlia is a show flower this must mean they are difficult to grow.  However, with a little research I discover that this is not true.

Dahlias are easy to grow, low maintenance and excellent as cut flowers for the house.  They have a long flowering season, from June until the late autumn.  They are grown from tender tubers, which are similar to bulbs but ‘sausage’ shaped. They have to be lifted and stored in a frost free place for the winter which is why we shall be growing them in pots. I have read that they are hungry so the pots are fairly large and the compost is rich.  Also, the tips of the plants need to be pinched out to produces lots of vigorous growth and the maximum amount of blooms.

The latest additions to our plant family are ‘Happy Single Princess’, with single daisy-like white flowers and yellow centres, and ‘Happy Single First Love’, which is a single salmon pink, with yellow and orange centres.  (Where do these awful names originate?)  The foliage is impressive, the dark burgundy colour sets off the dazzling flowers to perfection.

We shall feed our new dahlias with a balanced feed ever two weeks, dead head them regularly and stake them to support the stems in the wind.  As soon as autumn frosts threaten the plants, I shall clean away any soil clinging to the tubers and trim the stems back to 15 cms.  Apparently, you have to stand them upside down in a cool place to dry off before packing in a tray with peat-free compost.  If I leave the crown slightly exposed I will hopefully be able to see when it leaps into action next year. 

Doc would like to have a go at propagating new tubers from the existing plants. This entails separating the sausages (!) into portions which have both roots and shoots and then growing them on separately.  However, for the time being we are happy that our new dahlias are happy.  To some people they are vulgar and gaudy, for us they just smile.

Wood on the menu

Today, Doc was weeding a patch of ground near the bank of rhododendrons and he inadvertently disturbed a wasp nest.  He was irritated at finding yet another nest but not as irritated as the wasps who were trying to finish building it.  No sooner had Doc found the nest than I heard those familiar nibbling noises whilst I was filling a watering can from the water butt next to the greenhouse.  

We first came across this garden phenomen a couple of years ago and then, the idea of wasps munching our greenhouse was amusing. We also thought that it is important to see wasps as a vital part of the garden's natural balance because they devour pests such as aphids and caterpillars.   However, we now have an awful lot of furry vertical lines etched into the wooden window frames and their munching is extremely annoying.  Shooing them away is useless because they return a minute or so later, usually with reinforcements.  Once they sink their mandibles into the wood, there seems to be no stopping them. 

Although our greenhouse is large we don’t like the wasps free loading at our expense.  One of these days we will walk down the garden and instead of seeing an abundant greenhouse full of tomatoes and peppers we will see a pile of sawdust and broken glass. The cost of replacing the greenhouse would be considerable but our tenderly nurtured vegetables are priceless.

Apparently, this problem is unusual but not unheard of and occurs mostly where there is a high wasp population such as in orchards.  The wasps look for wood which they chew into paper and use it to build or repair their nest.  They will consume trellis panels, wood planters, sheds, fences, decking and furniture - and of course greenhouses.  Cedar is particularly delicious because the natural oil in the wood has an attractive smell which makes me think that we should have bought an aluminium greenhouse.  I seem to remember that it would have been a lot cheaper... 

There are products which can be painted on the wood at the start of the season – when the little blighters are most active - and these contain repellents such as eucalyptus oil, menthol and citronella.  However, this is impractical for larger areas and I am told that the best solution is to find and eradicate the nest - or nests. 

So, actually, Doc has done us a favour in finding this new nest.  He has now written ‘evict wasps’ on the Garden To Do list.  In the meantime, I have installed the temporary deterrent.  I hang a jar of water by the water butt, containing a dollop of my very best raspberry jam.  There are a dozen or so wasps in there already.  And when I shut the greenhouse door, I will do so very carefully, just in case it is about to fall down.

 

The right tool for the job

The arrival of June brought sunshine, heavy rainfall and longer daylight hours so we now have a garden full of turbo-boosted plants, weeds and slugs.  There is no time to linger and admire the roses.  We have work to do.  Doc cannot keep up with grass cutting and I have doubled my efforts tending the vegetable beds. 

I need to be in several places at once and the garden is very large.  My continuing foot pain means I can no longer run hither and thither fetching this, that and the other so I carry a basic tool kit with me at all times. This standard tool kit comprises of a large trug with handles, a bucket for the weeds, a kneeling mat, secateurs, a standard trowel, twine and scissors.  Optional items are a wheelbarrow, hoe and a chemical killer - the latter being the only weapon against our ground elder and bindweed.

My insistence in having this particular kit with me may imply that I am a fastidious gardener and take care of my tools.  However, nothing is further than the truth.  I take no special interest or pleasure in any item of gardening equipment.  As long as a tool does the job, that is fine by me.  I have never sharpened a hoe or secateurs in my life and the pair of scissors lost their edge years ago. (In fact it is often quicker to use my teeth to sever a length of twine.)

My father used to tut tut at my laziness but he invested so much time and effort in conditioning his tools that there was no time to do any actual gardening.  In any case doing any hoeing would spoil the hoe.  I know that as such a keen gardener I should be ashamed of my bad habits but I am not.  I don’t want to take out a largish mortgage to buy the classiest, sharpest pair of secateurs on the market and lovingly oil them after every use.  There is a lot to do in this gardening life and I don’t want to waste time polishing anything.  It sounds too much like outdoor housework.  There are cheap and cheerful tools at the garden centre which I can mistreat for a couple of years and then replace.

 Maybe I would value my tools more if there wasn’t the constant threat of misplacing them on such a large the plot.  The kneeling mat disappeared for weeks so I used a rolled up old cardigan until I found the proper one under the Acer tree.  Doc found one of our many trowels – the black one with the rattly handle - in the compost bin and it was still in perfect condition despite languishing there for a year. 

I used to wish manufacturers would produce their wares in bright colours so they are easier to spot a few hundred feet from the shed.   They must have heard me muttering because girly peptobismol –pink is very trendy at the moment.   I have invested in a new set of yukky coloured tools and so far nothing has walked.  Neither does Doc snaffle any of them either.  Although he fully supports equal opportunities, apparently he couldn’t bear to be seen using a pink trowel.....

Pampered Box

I went to the hairdressers last week and listening to the scissors snip, snip snipping, I was reminded that our two box balls outside the front door were also in need of a makeover.

The Box burst into life in the early spring with lots of bright, lime-coloured shoots which soon concealed the dark green shape underneath.  Although I was itching to prune the shoots back immediately, I resisted.  Pruning sappy growth before it has toughened up, leaves topiary looking unsightly rather than architectural.  Late May and June are the best months turn shaggy box topiary shapes into neat and tidy ones again. 

It is a good idea to choose a dull day to trim box as partly cut leaves can dry and scorch in bright sunshine.  To make clearing up afterwards easier, I stand the pot on a polythene sheet.  It is recommended you use a pair of hand held trimmers which look a bit like sheep shears.  For a perfect shape, you can twist a length of garden wire into a circular shape slightly smaller than the mass of foliage and move it round the plant with one hand as you snip with the other.  Personally, I prefer to wing it using standard sheers and the more faffing I do, the less I like the finished result. Remember, just like hair, it grows out again.  
 

I think cone shapes are easier to trim because you can rest three canes on the sides of the cone and push them into the ground. Secure the canes at the top to make a wigwam and bind the sides together with garden wire. Restore the cone shape by standing above the plant and pruning in an outward direction from the centre.

I often give the box a second trim in the season, but no later than August so the plant can recover before growth slows in the autumn. 

Box is quite thirsty when grown in a container so I make sure the pot is large enough and I feed it with a general fertiliser during the growing season. I even water it now and then during the winter months too. 

I have wondered about trying to grow more challenging shapes and have seen wire topiary shapes for sale at the garden centre.  Looking at my ever-so-slightly lopsided box balls though, I have the feeling that maybe I should quit whilst I am ahead. 

 

Wisteria Sinensis (Chinese Wisteria)

A large heap of organic compost goes a long way in the quest for a beautiful garden.  However, you also need a never-ending supply of patience.  Try to growing a Wisteria and your patience will be tested.  If you buy a plant that is not grafted and you could wait 20 years for the first bloom.  Thankfully, garden centres and nurseries now stock grafted plants - but even so, you will have to wait up to 5 years before you see any significant action.

If you try growing a young wisteria you will have to get used to it sitting in the garden for a few years, doing nothing in particular yet still needing your attention.   In fact I will go as far as saying that young wisterias look quite ugly, with those straggly stems that have to be coaxed and trained.

But upon its first show of colour, a Wisteria is truly a wondrous display of pink, lilac, white or purple flowers that hang like bunches of grapes.  It is a celebration of gardening and the best plant for drama, colour, and fragrance.  It encourages garden envy like no other plant and is has earned its place as a must-have for any garden. 

Ours has flowered for the first time this week.  It can hardly be called a show stopper yet, but half a dozen flowers is a promising start and has lifted our spirits.  I found the label it came with but unfortunately neither of us can remember when it was planted!  I really must put the date on all plant labels in future.

If you are thinking about growing a Wisteria you need to consider a few things first.  Wisterias are not self-supporting and the stems need something to twine around.  They can be grown as standard trees but mostly they are grown against buildings and walls, or draped over arches, pergolas and pillars.  Remember though that the support needs to be robust.  When it takes off, wisteria can be rampant and very heavy.  Consider too, that a Wisteria needs lots of sunshine so plant it in a spot where it has space to grow and preferably in full sun for the best blooms.

I have read that the most popular variety is Wisteria sinensis, the Chinese wisteria.  It twines anti-clockwise and the fragrant mauve or lilac flowers bloom before its leaves appear.  The Japanese wisteria, W. floribunda, twines around supports in a clockwise direction and there are blossoms and leaves at the same time.  This is confusing for us because our plant label says we have a sinensis and yet we have flowers and leaves at the same time.  I wonder if our plant had the wrong label attached to it?

For many people, pruning their wisteria causes great anxiety.  However, it is not difficult to do.  Just follow a few simple rules and you won’t go far wrong.  Firstly, prune your specimen twice a year so it will be floriferous and not grow out of the space you have allocated to it. 

In July or August, cut back the whippy green shoots of the new growth, to 3-5 leaves.  This restricts the plant’s growth and stops it escaping from the garden. 

Winter pruning is best carried out in January during the dormant season.  However, if it snows, do it in February.  Cut back the same growths to 2 buds and give the plant a tidy up.  Make sure the flowers will not be covered by too many leaves and check the supports are firm. 

Persevere with a Wisteria and you will be rewarded with colour and scent that turns your garden into a paradise.  And the bonus is that you will be the talk of the neighbourhood!

 

The Herbaceous Peony

There is nothing quite as delicious and extravagant as a peony.   They have huge, blousy and richly coloured blooms, laced with scent which makes them truly exciting.  Ours were here when arrived so we don’t know this particular variety but the colour is stunning.  It is the star performer in May and neither of us can pass by without gazing them.  

Peonies have a reputation of being difficult to grow but as with most plants, if you give them what they need they seldom disappoint.  The only time our plants struggle is when there is heavy rainfall and wind just as they come into flower. 

The flowers are bigger than my hand and the stems cannot possibly support the weight.  One of our must-do jobs in the early spring is to stake the plants as soon as we see the first fresh foliage peeping out of the soil.  If we forget and try to do it later on, the stems break and there is just an unsightly pile of petals and foliage.

Don’t believe anyone who says that an herbaceous peony cannot be successfully moved.   Do it in the autumn and try to cause as little disturbance to the root system as possible.  Plant it at exactly the same level and water it well - very well.   If you don’t do this, it will sulk for a couple of years and refuse to flower.  

I could not resist cutting a few flowers to enjoy in the house but if you have young plants it is best to resist doing this until its second or even third year.  Always leave at least a quarter of the stems on each plant to photosynthesise and feed the roots through summer and autumn.

I have decided that several clumps of this wonderful plant are not enough.  We are going to a rare plant fair soon, so I shall be looking out for some different varieties.  I simply cannot get enough of them.

A Garden is Dangerous

It is well documented how dangerous gardening is.  Even the word ‘garden’ is an anagram of ‘danger’. As soon as spring arrives, we keen gardeners feel the sap of enthusiasm rise and we rush outside to dig, chop, carry, bend, kneel and stretch - not for an hour or two but the whole day.  If we survive that first day in the green gym, the second will surely to send us reaching for the anti-inflammatory potions and the comfort of a hot bath.

The secret ,of course, is to build up the activity and alternate tasks so nothing is too repetitive. Treading carefully and gentle exercise is not a sign of weakness but human beings are not rational, are they?

Doc takes no notice of sensible advice.  He is a doctor, so what does he know about aches and strains and accidents?  He thrives on physical work.  He is fit for his age but his idea of taking things steady is ticking off 18 holes on the golf course followed by 4 hours attacking the monster weeds in the garden.  For an encore he will wash a car or two.  Still, he sleeps well and has the luxury of indulging in double portions of pudding because he burns up lots of calories.  (Some people have all fun, don’t they?)

Doc also displays bravado when it comes to climbing ladders and this is one area that for me, is a step too far.  For years I was the annual 'shaking' anchor woman at the bottom of the ladder whilst he heroically cleaned out the gutters.  Since my foot problem developed, I am no longer a trustworthy anchor and we have defaulted to GAMIN (Get A Man In) for that particular task. Then last week, I unthinkingly let slip that I had spotted that some of the panes in the greenhouse roof had slipped, leaving gaps for rain to come through.  Doc seized the opportunity to repair the situation.  Despite the fact that the greenhouse is large with a steep pitch, he was scathing of my suggestion to call in an expert.  He was adamant he was capablehe of fixing the problem and it would save us a lot of money.

I tried to bribe him with the promise of cake but he declined. He put on a pair of heavy duty gardening gloves and up the step ladder he went, one creaking step at a time.  The sheets of glass were large and he had to carefully and accurately manouvre each one into a new position. The air was, as they say, thick with tension.  At one particularly wobbly moment I covered my face with my hands and peaked through the gaps.  I was terrified and imagined the Paramedics running down the path with a stretcher.  The Smalls will be furious, I thought.   “Why did you let him do it?” they would yell.  Thankfully though, Doc was lucky and in the longest hour I have spent for quite a while, he repaired the seals and secured the glass.

The look of self-satisfaction on his face worried me.   It was the kind of look John Wayne wears in those old movies.  It is the look that goes with the words “A Man has to do what a Man has to do.”  The trouble is that what John Wayne did was film trickery and Doc is made of real-life perishable flesh and bone.

Before Doc put his gun back in his holster and swaggered back up to the house, he set out the mousetraps in the greenhouse, primed with peanut butter.  (We have been having little visitors in there for some time and their munching of my lettuce plants has to stop.)  Of course, being post-menopausal, my memory fails more times than I can remember and I forgot the traps were strategically placed amongst the pots.  Thanks to my ailing foot, I am also quite unsteady on my legs.  However, I am pleased to report that I did manage to escape the claws of the traps but I don’t think I will mention to Doc that it took super-human effort and skill to avoid disaster.  Given my disability, I am impressed by my nifty dance moves and creative use of a window catch.  Yes, gardens are dangerous but a “Woman has to do what a Woman has to do......”

All change - again!

                                 



Why is it, that when you just seem to be getting something right in the garden, you have to start again?

Our inherited bilberry bushes, though interesting in themselves, were not giving us the colour  we need in one of the most used parts of the garden.  We must walk down the garden path several times a day and this sunny border needed some serious injection of colour, height and texture. 

Last year we thought we had finally managed to create something attractive in a relatively difficult part of the garden. We weeded the area next to the bilberries and introduced fox gloves, tall daisies, pulmonaria, aquilega and hardy geraniums - all taken from other parts of the garden.  These gave us something to enjoy as we swished past every day and strangely, the small, delicate pink flowers of the bilberries were much more noticeable than they used to be.

However, the heavy rainfall last winter washed away the bank next to the path and the bilberry roots were laid bare.  It was a muddy mess. Something had to be done and Doc, my husband was the man to do it.  For a week he put in some serious hard work, digging out the old plants and building a retaining wall made from stacked sleepers.  I am a liability in the garden nowadays, so all I could do was offer encouragement, pint glasses of elderflower cordial and a whole packet of chocolate digestive biscuits.  (I tested one or two myself just in case they were not up to the required standard for Digger Doc.)



Digging out the mature, woody bilberries was only a fraction of the effort required to transform this bed.  Doc now has 6 heavy duty sacks of rocks and stones.  If you would like them, let us know!  We cannot complain about the amount of stone our garden regurgitates because it is the stone that probably stops our house sliding down the hillside.

We have decided to leave this new, improved bed fallow for the rest of this year and cover it with (unattractive) black polythene until we are sure it is 'clean' of any nasties lurking in the depths. 

The bed is in a very sunny position and will be well drained and dry.  There are so many plants we can choose from that we hardly know where to start.  However, the first task is to move the ornamental silver leaved pear tree a metre or so because it is too close to the pergola.  This will need to be done in the autumn or winter, when it is dormant.  

Doc planted the pear tree a couple of years ago and at the time I did point out  that it was in the wrong place.  However, Doc has done so much hard work on the new flower bed, I will not say "I told you so!"  It is best to let 'sleeping builders lie.' 

 

 

Amelanchier Magic

An Amelanchier tree is one of those must-haves for any garden and is one of the most popular choices for any type of garden.  It does not grow too big and it has masses of star-shaped white or pink-fading-to-white flowers in spring, followed by colourful leaves and ornamental and edible fruits.  

There are around 10 species of Amelanchier (also known as the Juneberry) and coming originally from North America, Europe and Asia, they are fully hardy. The flowers have 5 petals and appear on the bare branches just before the first leaves.  The leaves slowly emerge and unfurl into an attractive bronze colour which changes to green in summer, then richly coloured red or orange in the autumn.  The tree is deciduous but because it is so well behaved, it shows off a neat structure which adds interest throughout the winter months.
We were lucky enough to be given an Amelanchier as a gift when we moved here and for a few years it was potted on in big tubs but now it happily resides in a bed alongside the lawn.  It is doing well and will do even better when Doc gets round to hard pruning the overgrown azalea shrubs either side of it. 

The best-known species of Amelanchier in this country are the Canadensis and Lamarckii (AGM).  Unfortunately we do not know the name or ours because there was no label to accompany it.  Some species grow as large shrubs.  Since ours is 3 metres tall and looks like a tree, it has obviously decided it is a tree!  Our acidic soil definitely brings out the strong autumn colour although I am told that an Amelanchier will tolerate a neutral soil or even a little lime.  They do well in full sun but ours has some shade from the large shrubs surrounding it and appears content.  Our specimen faces west but it would probably do well in a more a northerly aspect if necessary. 

Powdery mildew can sometimes pose a challenge and we deal with it by removing and burning all the fallen leaves in the autumn.  Once the shrubs around it are cut back, there will be an increase in air circulation which will also help to control the attacks.   If it gets too bad - and only as a last resort - we may have to spray the tree, but only on a calm day to minimise the disruption to the rest of the garden. 

We have always loved our Amelanchier because it more or less gets on with the job of growing and giving us a lovely show of colour and structural interest.  However, today we realised that we are fortunate to have not one, but two Amelanchiers!

Most gardens have areas that are strictly utilitarian because much as we would like compost bins, piles of ‘useful bricks’ and bags of leaf mould to look attractive, they are not.  We chose the area to one side of our shed which is shady thanks to our neighbours’ adoration of very large species conifers and our love of our own beech tree.  Doc has landscaped the ground so we have a gravelled area for seating under the shade of the beech tree in summer and it is also the perfect place for pots of hostas.  (Putting hostas in open ground in our garden is inviting every slug from miles around to drop round for lunch.)

Doc finished the area off with some trellis which now boasts a lovely evergreen honeysuckle. The trellis finishes with a full stop provided by what was hitherto an un-named sickly looking tree with hardly any branches or leaves.  It must have been partially felled decades ago.  The remains of the main trunk are sited at an awkward angle probably because it used to strain towards the limited light.  At the time the renovations were going on, Doc neither had the energy or motivation to dig out the stump so I took on the job of making it look presentable and behave well enough so I could plant something of interest in front of it.  For several years I cut back the whippy stems and to be honest I hacked more than I pruned in the hope the tree would give up altogether.  That was until last year when the problems with my painful foot curtailed my gardening activities.

The ‘thing’ as we used to describe it, did not give up.  In fact, being felled followed by my harsh treatment does not seem to have done it any harm at all.  Perhaps it felt relieved when I became incapacitated!  This year, for the first time in 10 years, it has strong new growth and a lovely show of those familiar and welcome star-shaped white flowers with pale bronze leaves which are just about to unfurl.   It will never be a tree again, but it has decided that being a shrub is just fine despite the difficult aspect.   Isn’t nature amazing?

 

 

 

The colour is yellow

I was pottering around the greenhouse this afternoon and there is nothing better to keep me company than a mug of tea and the radio tuned to Radio 4’s Gardeners’ Question Time. It is surprising what interesting hints and wrinkles you can pick up and many of the questions make you re-think the way you do things in the garden. 

However, today, a question about what to plant underneath a forsythia hedge really pricked my ears, so much so I had to stop pricking out my tomato seedlings and scowl at the radio.  I love Chris Beardshaw (more so since he joined BBC Scotland’s Beechgrove Garden programme!) but his distaste of this adorable shrub was very surprising. He suggested to the lady who asked the question, that should get rid of the hedge and plant something more interesting......!

I accept than many gardeners forget to prune forsythia immediately after flowering, which results in the flowers only growing on the top branches.  And it is a boring shrub the rest of the year but as for being a ‘suburban eyesore’, I just don’t agree.  Chris thinks they are too brash and feels that spring is about subtlety, as shown by bulbs scattered underneath trees.  Perhaps Chris needs to see our daffodils in the orchard.  There is no subtlety about Springfield bulbs in spring!  This season they are the best they have ever been, probably due to Doc feeding them last autumn and the heavy rainfall all winter.

My view is that although we gardeners try to include plants that add winter colour and texture, few of us venture into the garden in winter to admire them.  I look forward to the first shots of yellow to lift me out of the winter gloom and tempt me outside.  It is cheerful and I like to feel cheerful.  When the daffodil blooms are spent and the forsythia has been pruned, the yellow stars step back from the scene and other flowers take their turn centre stage.  The transient nature of gardening is part of the appeal for me.  Every plant has a season, it comes and then it goes.  The trick is to keep the show going all year.

As for our forsythia, it is looking just as gorgeous and yes, it is shockingly yellow.  When it gets bigger, we may need sunglasses to enjoy it.  However, I have chosen not to include a photo of it here, just in case You Know Who drops by.  

Cultural pursuits

When we came to Springfield 10 years ago, Doc and I were keen to introduce statuary to create interest, colour and a focal point in the general landscape of the garden.  So far we have acquired a small, mass-produced ceramic rabbit and a slightly creepy looking ‘rock drummer’ gnome. The former is tucked between the trellis and a clump of chives in Mr Macgregor’s garden and the latter (which, weirdly, was one of Doc’s 50th birthday presents) is behind a water butt. If a small child visits us, we usually give ‘Rocker’ a holiday and play 'Hunt the Gnome'.  He usually finishes up in a tree or under a bush.

Nowadays I sit down more than I stand up in the garden, so some visual interest whilst I am perched on a bench would enhance the view.  I also have time to surf the internet for ideas of what we could buy and as I do so, I realise why we have not invested in serious garden ornamentation before.  Choosing pots to group here and there is one thing, but choosing art is something completely different.

Talking to friends, I am not the only one who is lacking in confidence when it comes to choosing ornamentation for the garden.  One friend goes further and says that now we now have a granddaughter, we need ‘fairy doors’, additional cute animals to keep our rabbit company, and some butterflies on wires rather than anything Henry Moore might approve of.

I am sure Little E would love fairy doors but I find them a little twee for us and Doc does not want anything that is made of plastic.  We need some quality pieces which look elegant.  We would like to make a statement but remain understated, if that is possible.

Last summer, a good friend of ours celebrated a notable birthday by having lunch at Raymond Blanc’s restaurant, Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, in Oxfordshire.  It was lovely to share such a special day with J and strolling around garden on a spring day was sublime.  (The food was brilliant too!).  There were plants and flowers, a lake and an abundant kitchen garden but the stand-out memory for all of us was the stunning sculpture.  Not only does it ooze quality but it sits in the landscape like it belongs there. Each piece is exactly positioned and in perfect harmony to its surroundings. There is something around every corner, but there is nothing which is over-done or crowded and everything is in proportion to the size and perspective of the garden.  

I doubt we have a big enough wallet for any of the sculpture we saw at Le Manoir but even if we did, I am struggling to find pieces which define our own personal style.  We do know we would like strong, unfussy forms and pieces which suit the natural, ‘countryside’ feel of the garden and neither of us are drawn to anthing contemporary.  But translating that into a specific purchase is proving to be a challenge.

I would quite like some life-size cast iron pigs in the orchard because I like that kind of whimsical humour.  However, the ones I have seen are too expensive.  Number One Daughter is artistic and creative and she could undoubtedly make something magnificent from a pile of junk from a skip but I am not sure Doc and I are open-minded enough to up-cycle old metal pipes and tin cans. 

Still, we have made a start and actually we are fond of our little rabbit.  As for the gnome, he is growing on us.  We have decided that he is ‘Kitsch’ and for the uninitiated ‘Kitsch’ means ‘art, or an object considered to be in poor taste because of excessive garishness or sentimentality, but sometimes appreciated in an ironic or knowing way.’  We are convinced his chipped hat and leery grin makes all the difference.

Lightly does it

The first sunny day inspires many gardeners to rush outside and spend several hours weeding, pruning and digging. However, after a winter of perusing the seed catalogues, this is asking for trouble.  More gardening injuries occur in spring than at any other time.  Backs, knees, hips – gardeners can suddenly discover parts of our bodies they lost touch with months ago.  A friend emailed me to say she had weeded her plot for 3 hours and was aching really badly.....

The initial green work out should start with some gentle stretching before heading off to the potting shed to warm up muscles and joints and reduce the risk of strain. If you delve into the borders, a kneeling mat is an essential piece of kit but remember to plant your knees firmly in the middle of it rather than bending and stretching further than you are used to.  As for digging, Doc and I try to avoid it.  There is much to be said for no-dig methods of cultivation and there is no satisfaction to be had from a neatly double-dug garden if you spend the rest of the week in bed!

Lifting is always risky, whether it is a small plant or a heavy bag of rubbish and given how many gardeners are pulling on their wellies and lugging bags of compost around at this time of year, it’s a wonder the A & E departments are not full.  We should remember to bend our knees and keep the back straight, both when picking up and putting down.  How many of us face the direction in which the load is to be carried to order to avoid twisting our spines? 

We don’t have a hover mower but a neighbour tells me they are notorious for causing back problems. This is because the user tends to swing it from side to side instead of pushing it in front, facing the direction they are cutting the grass. 

Since I now have limited capabilities in the garden I don’t have to worry too much about over-doing it on the plot because I know my limitations.  However, I have always been a firm believer in changing tasks regularly.  This means I do tasks that use different parts of my body rather than doing lots of repetitive movement.  But the best thing is not to try and do everything at once. An hour a day is enough initially and you can always work up to more as the days get longer.

Currently my average time spent in the garden at any one time is around half an hour and it is surprising how much can be done in such a short time.  I focus on two or three small tasks which I plan in advance and regrettably I have to accept I cannot do the more energetic jobs. 

Today I cut back some sedum 'Autumn Joy'. The flowers bring a rich, deep pink to the flower border in the autumn and then the flower heads go to seed, turn brown and provide texture and form throughout the winter months.  They also protect the fresh, young green shoots from frost.  Eventually though, the attractive bronze turns to grey and withered so I have cut the back the clump to just above the new growth. 

Whilst I was snipping off the spent stems of the sedum I sniffed with the sweet, heady scent of the creamy-white flowers of our Sarcococca (sweet box). It is a compact, evergreen shrub which flowers in winter, followed by followed by red, purple or black berries which persist into the following winter

The backdrop to this duo is a combination of yellow and red cornus (dogwood).  The stems catch the low winter sunlight and brighten up the garden.  The harder you cut this back in the spring, the richer is the display of coloured stems in the winter and the time to do this is around now.  However, it still looks so delightful that I could not bring myself to take the loppers to it.  I will leave it a week or too longer and we can enjoy the colour until the spring garden explodes into life.

These plants – the sedum, the sweet box and the dogwood – are firm favourites of mine.  They are reliable, must-haves for the autumn and winter garden.  By the time I had tidied them up today and scooped up a pile of soggy leaves, I was tired but refreshed from being outside, even if it was only for a short while.  I only wish I had taken my camera with me!

My next tasks are to prune the wisteria and cut back the tall Verbena 'bonariensis' – but that will have to wait for another day.