Conundrum

My tomato seedlings are growing well in the house.  Doc says he would like me to nurture him as much as I do my baby plants.

My tomatoes are indeed spoilt right from the start and I have always believed this care produces healthy plants that crop well and are resistant to disease.  They have the very best sterile seed compost and I keep them moist but not too wet or dry, using a fine mist spray.   I line them up in front of a south facing window but I move them away if the sunshine is very strong.  I am keeping an eye on the weather and when the seedlings have four or five leaves, I will carefully transport them to the greenhouse, into a lidded propagator with bubble wrap on the top at night, just to keep them toasty.  I even talk to them because I have always thought that the carbon di oxide and little breeze caused by my breath, encourages their stems to grow stronger.

A month ago, Doc conditioned the raised beds with well rotted compost and I covered them with cloches to help warm up the soil.  Yesterday, having had some sunshine recently, I wondered if any annual weeds had sprouted so I had a good look round and there they were several little tomato seedlings, growing away quite happily underneath one of the cloches.

The seeds were probably carried to the compost bin via the kitchen waste bucket and have been nestled in chicken poo, straw and all manner of green and brown material for about 9 months.  Doc was very proud that the compost heap was quite hot at several stages throughout the process last year.  Doc always sieves the compost and the tomato seeds even survived that too.

I have hard evidence that there is a ‘survival of the fittest’ and it is remarkable how nature will take care of itself.  However, I am wondering why I bother germinating seeds in the house.  Maybe I should just scatter seeds in the compost bin and wait and see what happens.  I am not that brave though and I have already transplanted the ‘wild’ tomato seedlings into pots and put them in the greenhouse!

Stawberries

I love growing strawberries because there is something very indulgent about plucking a ripe berry and sinking my teeth into its sweet, succulent flesh that has been warmed by the sun.  Home grown strawberries taste so much better than many of the shop bought varieties and it feels extravagant to enjoy fresh strawberries with yogurt and cereal every day.  I have a top tip though:  don't store them in the fridge because the cold kills the flavour.  We store ours in the pantry but they never last long!

Strawberries are easy to grow if you follow a few basic rules.  They need their crowns just above soil level to prevent water logging.  The fruits need lots of sun to ripen them so I position the plants in the sunniest spot in the garden.  They are very happy in hanging baskets and tubs which is good if you are short of space and it makes picking easier too.  The fruits do need to be kept clean and dry and since we grow most of ours in a raised bed we use strawberry mats.  Straw is cheaper but is a perfect slug hotel.

The birds also love the fruits – why wouldn’t they?  If you want some fruit for yourself, netting is essential though hanging baskets are usually okay.  However, make sure the nets are not too fine because strawberries need insects for pollination.  If you find malformed fruits then remember to help things along with a paintbrush next year, to ensure a healthy crop of fruits.

Strawberry plants need replacing every three years as they tend to lose their vigour and can develop viruses if grown in the same spot for too long.   I rotate the plants very easily and cheaply by propagating new plants from the existing ones.   Layering is the easiest way of doing this and involves setting small pots of moist compost around the plants and laying the runners across them, weighted down with stones.  Within two or three weeks, there are new leaves and I snip the umbilical cord to allow son or daughter of strawberry plant to grow away independently.   The new plants do not produce a very big crop for a year or so but taking runners every year means there are always mature plants available.

We like to grow a perpetual or everbearer strawberry (Flamenco does well at Springfield) though the description is misleading.  These plants do fruit for longer but we generally have a burst of activity in July and then a long flush later in the summer and into the autumn.  This year we are introducing Honeoye which is an early variety, Cambridge for the mid-season and Florence which is a later variety.  I am sure I have mixed up all the plants but they will have to get along together, the best they can!  I am not sure if they will cross-pollinate but we shall have see.

Last weekend I prepared a new strawberry bed which is well conditioned with compost and planted out the new plants which I had overwintered in the greenhouse.  Strawberries fruit better if they are subjected to a cold snap so I have brought them outside in early spring so they can catch some of the later frosts.  I find I lose more plants if I leave them in the raised beds over winter, I think, because we can have cold, wet soil.

  
For their novelty value we have some wild or woodland strawberries which are perennial and come up in a big mound every year.  The fruits are tiny and deep red in colour.  They have more seeds than flesh and are also time consuming to harvest.  However, for tiny fruits they have a punchy flavour and nice with cream cheese or goat’s cheese or added to a fruit salad for interest.

Some troughs of older strawberries were in need of a spring tidy up so I up ended them and set to work only to find all three riddled with the distinctive white grubs all gardeners hate.  There were hundreds of vine weevils. I broke apart all the plants and spread the compost on a sheet of plastic with the white invaders exposed.  By the time I had eaten a quick lunch myself, there were some very fat birds snoozing after their own lunch and all the grubs had thankfully disappeared.  (The leader of the flock was a cheeky Robin, I think.)  I have disposed of the strawberry plants which is a pity but we have a garden full of happy birds who have dined in style.  That can’t be bad, can it?

Leaping into Action

Why didn't the squirrels eat us?

It is not often you ring someone in the NHS and they can't talk for laughing but a lady in the x-ray department was almost hysterical this morning.  It was refreshing.  She and her friend had a pact that they would propose marriage to the first man they saw.  However, an octegenarian with a zimmer frame was not suitable (shame on the NHS for such ageism) and she wondered if I knew anyone who might be available.  (I didn't.)  She was simply desperate to 'have a go' at the Big Question.  Perhaps it is a good thing that leap year only comes round once every 4 years.

Anyway, appointment made (painful hip) I swallowed some more paracetamol and hobbled round the plot with my camera. You can see a lot in a slow wander. 
 

Builders rubble and gravel present no challenge to snowdrops

 

Busy Bee on a Camelia flower



What a mess!  Badger damage amongst the daffodils



It's time the hens were moved to new pasture.  Good dust bath though!



Autumn planted shallots and onions doing well

New strawberry plants ready to go



Pansies and salads still doing well

Pity I could not pull up a few weeds and cut back the flower borders.  However, aching hip or not, I managed to prune a few stray branches from the climbing roses, sow some seeds and do a bit of tidying in the shed. 

It's nearly time....

The seed box is sorted and I have brought a couple of unheated propagators into the kitchen so they are ready and waiting.  I have a large bucket full of sieved compost, a packet of plant labels and a felt tip pen that works.

Sowing my tomato seeds during the last week of February is a ritual.  An early start gives the plants the longest possible growing time and the fruits can reach maturity before the autumn.  It also gives me the wonderful feeling that spring is happening, it really is!

I am supposed to be scaling back the vegetable production at Springfield this season because I have a lot of family and work commitments this summer.  However, I am not sure if I really can show restraint when it comes to the number of seed packets I actually open.  If I could grow every single tomato variety there is, I would.  And I don’t think I am alone in my ambitions because most gardeners have a vision of grandeur.  For some it is Versailles or Kew Gardens or an entire tropical rainforest.  For me it has to be a vegetable garden that would feed our entire village.  Maybe I was a farmer in a previous life?

Contrasts

Friday night was the coldest we have had this winter and when I trundled down the path yesterday afternoon, the fluffy white snow was crunchy underfoot.  The ice cold air tickled my nostrils, the sun was shining and the garden glistened, like someone had spinkled glitter over everything.  It was the perfect winters day for walking in the countryside.  It was crisp and exhilarating, as long as you have confidence in your footwear.  We have several areas of compacted snow on our plot which have turned to smooth sheets of ice.  I avoid these, I value my bones too much.

I popped along to the greenhouse to check on the potted plants I am over-wintering in there and when I opened the door there was a rush of warm, humid air.  The contrast between outside and inside was remarkable and I am going to buy a thermometer just to see what the temperature climbs to in the winter.  Even at sub-zero temperatures it does not take much sunshine to warm up a glass house and the stone flags we have for the base of ours, absorb the heat and keep the plants cosy during the night.  I have a watering can full of water in there and it remains unfrozen, unlike one by a water butt.

As I was snipping and checking and moving around in there, the snow on the roof started to slide and I had my very own mini avelanche.  Luckily the glass in the cold frames outside are made with safety glass!

There was one thing I was not happy about in the greenhouse. Whitefly.  Being toasty warm in the greenhouse all winter means they can get on with what they like to do, with little threat.  They love my parsley and three pots of it are now useless.  It is so annoying.  

And then there is February....

I should not complain because sub zero temperatures and snow is not unusual for February.  It's just that the bulbs are up and about and I was mentally preparing for sowing my tomato seeds.  I think they call this a reality check.  Last week is a very long time ago.

Our three girls are not unhappy in the snow.  In fact they look at me rather disdainfully as I plod around the plot looking like a sherpa.  Today they looked quite surprised that I found it a struggle to clean them out . 

The coop was frozen, the watering can, likewise, and the water bowl needed de-frosting twice.  Still, my hands were toasty warm.  I wear a pair of 'Thinsulate' gloves with a 'Hottie' stuffed into each one and then a large pair of rubber gloves.  I don't think I could thread needles but dealing with chicken poo and straw is fine.  I wore two pairs of socks and thick, fleece lined rubber boots but the girls seem to manage fine with nothing at all on their feet!

We were due to go and see friends tonight, for supper and a good catch up.  However, they live further north in the Peak District, so that is a no no even with a shovel in the boot of the car.  There is an inch and a half of snow here and it is still falling.  Up there, who know what it could be like in the next half hour.   Buxton is probably cut off already!