Latest weather

A heavy dollop of snow last night has quickly turned to vile slush today, although I fear the bad weather is not over yet. All this follows a report last week that spring has been delayed by four weeks because of the cold weather. Ah well, hot chocolate all round! 

Horny-handed son of the soil

I've been doing a bit of delving into my mother's family background, coming from a position of knowing next to nothing about her past. One of the things I have learned is that her mother, my maternal grandmother, was born in 1892 in Scotland, daughter of a ploughman. 

Can any of this farming expertise have been passed down to my genes? The evidence so far would suggest not, but here's to a good growing year. 

Hang on a minute

My friend Kate told me not to worry too much about the garden for another month or so, advice which seemed sound when I awoke this morning to a smattering of snow on the ground. We're forecast some more later in the week, although I was amused that today they were predicting sunny intervals. That's the intervals taken care of, but they were silent about the other bits of the day. 

The time has come

The special Festival of Britain issue of the Illustrated London News for February 11, 1951 has come into our house and the above advertisement naturally caught my eye because the gloves are named after me (prefer not to think I am named after gloves). I fail to grasp the reference to gloves and baldness, however, but it is probable that I was very bald at the time the magazine was published, having been born just over a week previously. Indeed, the publication has a picture of the King opening the festival at noon on Thursday, May 3, 1951, when little Andrew Baldwin would have been just one hour old. Ah!

The lack of blogging for the past month reflects my lack of activity in the garden. The time has come to put a bit of effort in and over the next few days I shall buy potatoes to chit and persuade Susan to drive somewhere where I can get two or three bags of stuff to dig in to the soil.

I have roughly mapped in my mind what's going where, although the back patch where I had the potatoes last year remains a problem. The soil is poor, very stony and the sun doesn't get there much. My mate Steve suggests beans. Runner, broad or French: or all three. They're tough, and their nitrogen-fixing root nodules will help to enrich the soil, he says. That'll do me.

Now then, do they still make Andy gloves? The hunt is on.