Flossing is Fun

I volunteer for a local community gardening initiative and a group of us has been helping out at a special school.  The building is a former ‘grand’ house and is set in large grounds with lovely views of the countryside.  There is a wooded area, play area, raised beds, fruit trees and a two large polytunnels which provide interest and produce for the children.

When we were planning our own garden, Doc and I never considered installing a polytunnel instead of a greenhouse because at the time we associated them with agriculture.  However, they have become more popular over the years, probably because they are cheaper than greenhouses and there isn’t all that glass to worry about.  From an aesthetic point of view polytunnels look much less ‘industrial’ than they used to and I am impressed how effective they are.

Just as our greenhouse gradually develops a layer of green algae, so do Polytunnels.  Autumn is the time of year when clearing up and getting on with some outdoor cleaning edges its way to the top of the To Do list.  Unless the algae is removed, the light won’t reach the plants and although it is probably better to do the cleaning in the spring, after several months of damp weather, there is too much else to do in the garden.  As long as it is done once a year (or every other year!) we can keep on top of the green invader.

At the school, soft mops and sponges were pretty effective at cleaning the walls inside and outside of the plastic tunnels.  However, since the tunnels are very wide, there is no way that anyone could reach across the top without using a bit more ingenuity.  And we were introduced to the art of ‘flossing a polytunnel’.  Or should I say, ‘flossing a polytunnel with excited children’...

The process is simple – in theory.  Two people are required, along with a couple of long lengths of soft ropes and an old bed sheet.  We rolled up the sheet and tied a length of rope to each end.  Then the sheet was soaked in a large bucket of plant-safe detergent.

One person was tasked to toss the floss over the polytunnel and the other person had to catch the rope the other side.  This took a bit of practise because it takes skill and effort to throw a wet sheet over a high wall of plastic!  Finally though, with the floss in position, the two people then took it in turns to pull, dragging the sheet backwards and forwards over the plastic cover.

So far so good, except the tunnel needed rinsing as the flossers moved back and forth across the tunnel.  Cue some children, a hosepipe and a tap.  I had forgotten to take a waterproof anorak and when it was my turn to floss, I soon learned that some children never quite get the hang of spraying a polytunnel roof 'gently' with water.  As a result, I enjoyed (!) a good soaking.

We found it was more efficient to have 3 people involved in the flossing.  This is because someone was needed to co-ordinate the ‘flossers’ and check for any areas they had missed.  After a few pulls, the flossers seemed to forget whose turn it is to pull!

Anyway, a good time was had by all.  It was only water and I needed my hair washing anyway.  The children had a great afternoon and now the school has two very clean and tidy polytunnels.  I only wish we could wash our greenhouse in the same way. It takes me ages to clean the panes of glass!

Eggspensive!

The girls have gone on strike.  For the first time in two and half years, we are eggless.  Ginger has let herself go and is leaving feathers lying around.  She is definitely less stylish than she used to be.  Tweedledee and Tweedledum don't appear to be molting and look tidier but they give me quizzical looks when I search the nest box.  They have that 'you won't find anything in there' look on their beaks.

I have tried to bribe the trio with lettuce fresh from the garden but they are not that interested.  Don't they know that fresh lettuce in late October is quite an achievement?  Even one or two strawberries from the greenhouse are not welcomed with the relish they used to be.  The girls just mooch around doing nothing in particular - except, of course, munching their layers pellets and making a mess.  Last week we stocked up on feed, straw and bedding - AND - we had to buy eggs.  (I had almost forgetten they come in boxes of 6!)  I still have to clean the coop out and at this time of year I also have to rake out the corral.  They don't like waddling around with a garland of fallen leaves attached to their claws.

It is a good job we love them and we do appreciate the dozens and dozens of eggs they have provided.  I suppose every hard working hen deserves some 'off lay' time and I am trying to look upon this as their little holiday from work.  Hopefully, empty nest box syndrome won't last forever.  We have to believe that because Coq au vin is simply not an option.

Happy Days

Number One Daughter is now a Mrs P and very happy in her new role. The wedding was on October 6th and everything went according to plan, including the weather.  Doc was tearful as he led our little girl down the aisle and I was tearful because my shoes were killing me.  Mrs P was sensible and wore dusky pink pumps, encrusted with pearls.  The long white vintage-inspired dress did not look half bad either! 

 

But enough of fashion, it was all about the special day, seeing family and friends together and enjoying much food and drink - and funny speeches.  Oh, and the flowers!  Mrs P is a florist and she created all the arrangements herself.  They were magnificent - even though we are a teensy weensy bit biased.  Each dining table had a dramatic centre piece consisting of a tall candleabra overflowing with burgundy, red, pink and ivory roses, lilies, eucalptus, snow berries and 'love lies bleeding'.  And there was a coronet of yet more flowers on the table itself.  It was over the top but bold, inspired and lush.  When Mrs P does something, she Does It!   

 

After seeing the newly weds off to their honeymoon in Cornwall we travelled back home, quietly and in a sort of limbo.  With so much excitement, coming home was an anti-climax.  So we did what gardeners do and retreated to the plot for some therapy. 

 

Much has been achieved in a week, despite the showers and some other commitments.  Doc has chopped several trees into logs and now qualifies as a lumberjack.  He has composted the raised beds, cut the grass and continued to pick raspberries and blackberries.  I have tidied and sorted everywhere and created a huge bonfire heap, ready for Guy Fawkes night.  

 

However, the job I am most pleased about is re-claiming the steps down from terrace.  With so much rain over the summer, soil from the rockeries had washed and spilled onto the steps, providing the perfect place for weeds and plants to migrate to.  The steps are now a good six inches wider!   

 

Today is Sunday and we awoke to bright sunshine and our first frost.  The grass sparkled and felt crispy under foot when I trekked down the garden at 8.00 am.  I had to break the ice from the chickens' water container but they did not seem to mind the cold. 

 

We might not have memories of the hazy days of summer 2012 to see us through the low season.  However, we do have memories of The Wedding.  I think we have enough photos to keep us occupied until its time to start the spring planting!



 

Back to the Future

Today, for the umpteenth time this year, there is a river running through Springfield and temperatures are markedly colder.  It has rained heavily for hours, not that pitter-patter, hazy rain but thunderous stair rods which are strong enough to batter my sturdiest brolly.  The lawn is now a bog.  Thank goodness I have already sorted out the greenhouse and brought some tender plants inside.  On top of the cold, miserable weather I am feeling a little peewally.  Doc, with his decades of experience in General Practice has diagnosed ‘a bug’.  I am a free spirit stifled by a raised temperature, aches and pains – and the weather.

There is nothing better to do than reach for the paracetamol tablets and try to think about something nice.  It does not take long before Olympia, our beautiful Granddaughter comes to mind.  I open up my ipad and dive into my gallery of pictures.  She is only 8 weeks old, yet there are already too many photographs of her for my boasting book.  My heart flutters.  We shall be seeing her in less than two weeks time and Doc and I feel like excited toddlers waiting for Christmas.

I have also come across some photos taken at Mount Stewart in Northern Ireland.  It was one of the few rain-free days of summer, just before little O was born.  Our daughter-in-law is Irish and we have visited this National Trust House and Gardens several times.  It never ceases to thrill and part of its attraction has to be driving to it, along Strangford Lough where dramatic views are punctuated by birds taking flight. 

A grand house needs a grand backdrop and the south-facing Italian garden is never disappointing, whatever the time of year. There is also a series of magnificent outdoor 'rooms' which contain rare plants that thrive in the mild climate of the Ards Peninsula.  Gunera, eucalyptus and pots of beschornia, (a plant similar to a yucca, with huge pink flower spikes), create a very exotic atmosphere. There is also a wonderful ‘Leylandii’ hedge which shows just what this much maligned tree can do for a garden when planted in the right place. 

The garden is less than a hundred years old.  It is slightly eccentric and all the more beautiful because of this.  The garden was the vision of Edith, Lady Londonderry and is now of international importance. 

Above all, Mount Stewart is a garden for children.  They can explore acres of space and leave with memories of giant trees, secret paths, steps they have climbed and plants which look like they belong in a Harry Potter story. In fact, the Mairi garden was named after Viscountess Bury, Lady Londonderry’s daughter, who spent much of her time in her pram when the garden was just virgin, waste ground.  In the centre now is a statue of her and a depiction of ‘Mairi, Mairi, quite contrary’ where campanulas are the ‘silver bells and cockle shells’ and saxifrage represent the ‘little maids all in a row’.

A collection of fanciful stone creatures is a big attraction.  There are monkeys clutching urns, a Noah’s ark and a couple of Dodos.  And this brings me back to little O because it will not be long before we are introducing her to Mount Stewart because it is a garden of wonder.  

Currently, the National Trust is making plans to actively connect children with nature because so many children have no relationship whatsoever with the outdoors.  We feel very privileged that this will not be the case for little O.  She will be digging up potatoes before she is five!

All this has started to make me think we need to create our ‘Woodland walk’ which is a tunnel between the trees that border our lawn and our neighbour’s boundary.  It is dark and spooky, just what Olympia will like.  But we first need to tidy it up, lay lots of bark chippings and build some steps at the house end, to lead visitors up to the terrace. I am sure there will be dens made along the path!

And of course, we need to fix Olympia up with a set of her own special tools.  Not the cheap, bendy kind but a decent trowel, fork and junior spade.  With a packet of marigolds and a game of ‘hunt the gnome’, we are good to go.  As long as she brings her wellies!

Come on, please own up!

I find it funny that there is so much advice for gardeners about how they can attract wildlife onto their plot.  Our hotel and restaurant is fully booked all year round and we never have to advertise.  You name it, we host it and usually there is more wildlife at Springfield than we can cope with.  I have, on several occasions, considered putting up a ‘No Vacancies’ sign but I am not sure if our local Garden Club would approve.

Some friends of ours are not aware that our garden has a regular clientele and have kindly given us various bird feeders, bird boxes and seed cakes in all shapes and sizes.  However, it is the insect box that has become the most intriguing.

The insect box consists of a wooden frame stuffed with hollow lengths of bamboo cane and the hope is that insects are attracted by the small ‘rooms’ and take up residence there for the winter months.  Insects are very small and although I see them darting around the flower beds I have never spotted any of them crawling about the insect box or laying any eggs.  Still, the box looks nice hanging from one of the old damson trees and we get a tick in the box for ‘attracting wildlife’.

However, this summer, ‘someone’ in the animal, bird or insect kingdom is playing games with us because every couple of days we find the bamboo canes from the insect box, scattered all over the grass.  Being garden-proud we tidy up and put them all back.  At first, fitting them back into the box was a challenge because the bamboo canes are different sizes and we finished up with one fat piece of bamboo cane and a very tiny space in which to slot it. 

But practise makes perfect and for the past few weeks, Doc and I have had competitions to see how long it takes us to re-assemble the insect box.  (Doc is very smarmy now that he can do it in less than 2 minutes.)  The game is like one of those pointless activities from that old TV show, The Krypton Factor and for me, the novelty has worn off.  It has become intensely irritating to have to stack the bamboo canes when I could be weeding the borders or picking blackberries.  Doc on the other hand, probably inspired by the Olympics, loves it.  His current boast is that he can do it one-handed.

Either the culprit has to own up to this tom-foolery or I will have to install CCTV.  One way or another, I will find out who is emptying the insect box and he or she will be evicted from the property.  If there is anyone out there who has any information which may be useful in my enquiries, please let me know.  There is a reward – one very attractive insect box!

Curly Beans!

We have grown French beans and Runner beans for more years than we care to remember.  Both Doc and I prefer the flavour of Cobra or Blue Lake French beans but in this part of the world they tend to be less tolerant of our often cold spring weather than Runner beans.  We usually achieve an early start with our Runner Beans and the French beans follow on later in the season.  We have also had good success with planting a late crop of dwarf French beans in early August.

This unusually wet summer, with lower than average light levels, has challenged most fruit and vegetable growers.  I don’t know anyone who has a decent crop of apples and plums are nowhere to be seen.  However, the runner beans, though not as prolific this year, are doing well and I am happily picking a trug full every couple of days.  Scarlett Emperor brings joy to the late summer garden and by the amount of flowers I saw today, there are lots more to come.  The bees love them.

The French beans have struggled to get going this season and we have appreciated them all the more because of their scarcity.  However, they are incredibly curly!  Usually there are a handful of twisted French and Runner beans in the trug and this tends to be caused by the beans coming up against an obstruction such as a bean pole.  However, this year, our French beans have taken curliness to an art form.   The ones in the photo were hanging freely and were not restricted in any way.  Some of the beans have been so tightly curled that they were more like Catherine wheels than beans.

I suggested to Doc that the beans may not have had sufficient water and he raised his eyebrows at this.  However, we do grow our vegetables in well-drained raised beds in a south-westerly position so it only takes a few days of dry weather for the beds to lose moisture, despite the copious amount of organic matter that Doc uses to mulch the beds.  Maybe because the summer has been wetter than usual, we have assumed the beans have been well watered.  Perhaps they have needed a good drink and we overlooked them?

Fluctuations in temperature may have increased the numbers of curly beans because we have had some hot days followed by cold nights. Viruses are another potential cause but the foliage on our beans is healthy and green.

Straight beans win prizes at shows and supermarkets condition shoppers to expect perfection.  But our curly beans taste just as nice as the straight ones.  It takes longer to top and tail them but who cares.  Beans are beans, straight or curly!