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.
Monday, 8 September 2014
Saturday, 5 July 2014
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.
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.
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
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.
Saturday, 21 June 2014
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.
Thursday, 19 June 2014
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.
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.
Tuesday, 10 June 2014
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.....
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.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)