Stubborn beans

The Observer Organic Allotment Blog arrives and with it a photograph of their thriving Cherokee Trail of Tears.

Not only is the photograph better than any I take, but also their beans are way ahead of mine. They are racing up the pole, while I have had cause to lament that mine remain stubbornly tiny, perhaps not more than six inches in height. But there is hope as they have put on a bit of a growing spurt since I began to moan out loud a couple of days ago.

Talk about them and they reform their act, it seems. I hope.

Bringing the crops home

I can't believe it. I've picked some of my spinach and had a raspberry from the garden. That's the raspberry.

Dorothy used the spinach in fishcakes she made us for tea, also some of the chives given to me by my friend Alex 'Pip' Paton. Jolly nice meal.

I remain optimistic

Managed an inspection and a quick session with the hoe in the garden between showers today.

Really excited that little red buds have appeared on two of the runner beans. But, as I suspected, Susan has confirmed my fears that one of the others has become a victim of the slugs and died off.

Still no sign of flowers on the potatoes, a fortnight after they appeared on the ones I gave my friend Kate. They do appear to be growing, all the same, so there's hope yet.

Progress & setback

It has rained at last here and I have had a bit of break from dashing backwards and forwards from the kitchen to water the garden. I don't really mind the trips as I find it strangely relaxing and therapeutic once I get in the rhythm.

Something has destroyed one strong of runner beans. Slugs, I guess. The good news is that the others are climbing well. Fascinating to see how they have curled round the poles all by themselves.

My mate Steve contacts me to say he has lifted their garlic. I must admit I have not looked up the literature to see when this should be done, but Steve tells me the time is when rust is covering the leaves and any green foliage is yellowing. Without going outside to look, I think mine must be near that stage. If that's so, it will be nice to have crops at last. My first.

We live in troubled times

More confirmation that growing is a difficult business this year, this time from my former work colleague Hilarie.

She emails that she is having a disastrous gardening year on her allotment about three or four miles from me. Half the seeds they planted haven't germinated and everything that did is looking a bit sickly. Only the strawberries are doing well and if the dampness continues they'll all get eaten by slugs, she says.

I tell her that I've had problems with my peas and she replies she is kind of glad to hear that. "We thought we must have bought some bad seeds," she says.

Looking at the TV news today, I see film of flooded streets and people having a miserable time because of the downpours. Where I am, though, the weather continues to be dry and there is no let up in my trips between the garden and the kitchen tap for "copious" watering.

Serious stuff

Among the websites I like for inspiration is Blagger, a blog which documents a move towards a self-sufficient lifestyle. I find it interesting as a read in itself and as a source of ideas.

I've previously complained about my peas not germinating and ditto the first batch of lettuce and salad leaves. Now comes the latest posting from Blagger complaining about a hard year on their plot and a succession of crop failures. The writer cannot understand it and hopes it is not an indication of wider global problems.

One person who has responded to the blog posting reckons recent weather changes have played havoc with bringing crops on for a lot of people. I reckon that if that is indeed the case, all the more reason for persevering. We're going to need all the food we can get.

Brave new world

Beetroot is a food I have never really rated, right from being a young lad. I think I was put off by the colouring of the pickled variety we used to have and the fact that it ran all over the plate. Recently, however, I have come to change my view and have quite liked it on the few occasions I have given it a try.

With that in mind, I have decided to try out the beetroot seeds supplied by the BBC Dig In programme. This morning I planted one line outside in the patch next to the lettuce and spinach and the remainder in two big pots in the conservatory. Borscht here I come.

While having a general tidy around, I ditched the mushroom growing kit that Dorothy gave me for Christmas. I followed the instructions to the letter, but the crop has been most disappointing. Only about five mushrooms in all, I think. Not sure at the moment if I will get another.

Talking of disappointments, I noticed this morning that one of my potato plants has snapped off overnight. The rest seem all right, however. The spare seed potatoes I gave to my friend Kate have begun flowering, she tells me, so mine must be imminent.

Kate has given us some parsley, half of which has gone in the ground outside and other half in pots inside. They look very nice.

That darn cat

Our cat Mish has followed up her wee on the growbag with a crap. More accurately, the poo was near the growbag. Naughty, naughty. What can I do?

There's been a lot of rain here today and I have been prevented from going in the garden, but a bit of wet is very welcome after the heatwave of the last few days.

Things seem to be going on well, although I am a bit worried about my peas. The seeds I planted seem not to have taken in pots in the conservatory or in the garden outside. Give them a bit longer, I suppose, but I am resigned to fate. My friend Kate says she never has much success with peas either. She seems not to know why and neither do I.

Ain't she sweet?

Anyone want to buy a cat called Mish? She is out of favour after doing a wee on one of my growbags.

There's always a butt

Glorious June continues in scorching fashion and the question of water butts has arisen following my posting about watering the garden.

All I can say is that they seem to have a design fault. Or perhaps I should say the concept appears to be faulty. Fair enough, they fill when it rains. But then you use the water as soon as a drought begins, the dry period continues and the result is that are left with an empty butt because it hasn't rained again.

There's a man called John Harrison who runs an excellent allotment website and sends out a monthly email. He reckons we may be putting too much stock on watering.

This is what he has to say and I think it's worth quoting extensively:

When we get hot and dry weather, the temptation is to give the plot a sprinkle every day but that can be really counter-productive. A light sprinkle will hardly soak into the soil and so the plant roots will be encouraged to stay at the top of the soil instead of searching down. Shallow roots are easily damaged by hoeing and, of course, the nutrients at the top of the soil are quickly exhausted.

Don't try and water the whole plot in one go, take a section at a time and give that a really thorough soaking. That way the water goes down and the roots will follow. Even if it looks bone-dry on the surface, there may well be plenty of water underneath. Stick your finger into the soil and see if it is damp underneath. Honestly, most of the time it won't need watering anyway.

The exception to this is seedlings, they're obviously shallow rooted to start with and will benefit from a daily sprinkle until they establish. Hoeing between the plants will not only keep the weeds down but, because it breaks up the surface, preventing capillary action from sucking water out of the soil in hot weather.

It's best to water in the cool of the evening if you can and one great way to get water into the soil is to use soaker hoses. The water comes out slowly and soaks in rather than puddling.

Nothing is ever simple.

Phew, what a scorcher!

Tomatoes are in the growbags at long last. Three I've grown from seed and three seedlings I bought or Susan bought. They are in a corner of the conservatory with a wigwam contraption over them to deter the cat (hopefully).

As our heatwave continues, I wonder what copious watering means and why we don't have a hosepipe. The answer to the latter is that we have never managed to get a tap fixture that actually fitted. Perhaps we always aimed for cheap and got what we paid for.

Susan says you have to play it by ear when it comes to watering and I suppose it's exercise for me to keep going backwards and forwards to the kitchen to fill the watering can and bucket.

Something for nothing

Well, earthing up the spuds has been done and I hope properly. As I worked the soil it, I became bathed in perspiration really quickly and realised how unfit I am. Really need to do something about this.

The postwoman came while I was in the garden and brought the BBC Dig In seeds I sent for some time ago. This has been massively oversubscribed and it's not hard to see why. Who could turn down the offer of lettuce, beetroot, carrot, squash and tomato - all for free. The little booklet that came with the packets is clear as clear can be and I will certainly be planting some of the seeds. Squash particularly intrigues me. Do we grow it much in this country?

I see from the Dig In website that DJ Sara Cox has a blog detailing her efforts as she grows her own grub for the first time and I make a mental note to read it occasionally.

A sluggish day

Sheltering indoors from the rain this morning, I muse over that old saying ne'er cast a clout...etc. We shouldn't really be surprised about English weather, but would do well to remember these adages. Wisdom in a sentence.

I also fell to thinking about slugs and nematodes. My mate Steve has filled me in on them and says they tried them once, some years ago. The result? "The slugs and snails were unaffected and we were poorer."

He goes on to give me the information that nematodes include the threadworms that infest cats and dogs and I tell him that I definitely won't be using them because of our pets. Ah, not so simple, says Steve.

The phylum Nematoda is vast. The intestinal parasites found in vertebrates are passed on via eggs in the host's faeces, and then ingested by another host. Some of the nematode species are very host specific, but others will infest a wide range of hosts. The slug killer only zaps the slimy bastards, with no effect on vertebrates. Some nematodes are plain weird: one species lives only in the felt beermats that were used in German bierkellars.

His technique is to clout slugs with a hammer. His wife Marianne says that's too brutal: she stands on them. End result is the same.

My plans for tomorrow include earthing up of the spuds now they have reached the suggested height of about 8in. The internet is a great invention and includes an incredibly handy video on the Videojug website.

I marvel at how I'm quite happy to look at it, yet would shun any TV programme called How To Earth Up Potatoes. Some 17,000 people have viewed it. Mind you, there have been 779,360 hits for their video on how to get out of the car without showing your knickers.

I suppose I ought to say that I resisted the temptation.

Danger lurks

Susan has again warned me of the possibility of slugs attacking the crops. Now comes news from the Guardian's allotment blog of their plot coming under attack from these pesky creatures. Even their rampant Cherokee Trail of Tears are being held in check, says the blog. Oh no, what if it happened to my precious Cherokee Trail of Tears?

The Guardian man's solution has been to use nematodes, something I have never heard of and will have to look up. I notice that someone has posted a comment on the blog describing nematodes as a microscopic species-specific parasite and that another poses the question of whether they are actually safe.

Still another person says they have used 'organic' slug pellets. Seems a contradiction in terms to me.

Lettuce pray

Just as the pattern yesterday, the heavy rain of the morning stopped and I was able to go out into the garden again. Unlike yesterday, though, I had to come in after 90 minutes when a shower developed.

I achieved my goal for the afternoon. Which was to dig out the old lettuce and salad leaf patch and get the new lettuce and spinach in. The spinach, by the way, is a Cogarde (Oak Leaf), chosen from many varieties by me at Dove Cottage Nursery because of the slight association with where we live - Broad Oak Place. Let's hope it takes.

Did a bit more lawn edging (all the big jobs) and managed to mow the grass, something I had not done for about 10 days. Hadn't grown much though.


I have also started some of the sprouting seeds which daughter Dorothy gave me for my birthday. One is a rather exciting Melange Gourmet, made by A Vogel, pioneers in natural health since 1923, and is made up of quinoa, white radish and lentils. Should be ready in 3-5 days, as will the alfalfa seeds I have also started. Got a book too from Dorothy on recipes for sprouting seeds and am looking forward to using it. But I do confess I'm unsure about sprouting seed milk shake.

A perfect day (and not in a Lou Reed way)

Heavy rain kept me out of the garden again yesterday, but it brightened up around 2.0 and became exceptionally nice outside.

I was able to get out on the vegetable patches for a satisfying couple of hours of weeding, planting and generally mooching around. But not before we took a small trip to the very splendid Dove Cottage Nursery just a short hop from our house, where I bought some spinach and lettuce seedlings. I also took a punt on heritage tomatoes - a Red Russian and a Bonny Best (nice title).

Back at home I finally transplanted the runner beans which Susan gave me for my birthday and they are now nestling against one of the two wigwams built previously. Cherokee Trail of Tears will be ready to go out in next couple of days. Susan says reassuringly that the next thing is I will discover they have been eaten by slugs. Will I be upset, she asks. Who knows?

The tomatoes I was growing in the conservatory have turned into five seedlings, and have now been put into individual pots, although it looks as though one has died. Intend sorting out growbags for them soon. Reminded myself that this variety goes by the name of Outdoor Girl.

Had this message the other day from former work colleague Hilarie to tell me her vegetable growing isn't going too well:

Our allotment is completely waterlogged but the strawberries are blooming. Runner beans look moth eaten and the lettuce failed to germinate due to the cold and damp. Trying again with pak choi. Even the courgettes look sickly. If we were medieval peasants this would be very worrying indeed.

In the circumstances, I needn't feel too bad about my lettuces and salad leaves. I intend this afternoon to dig over their bit of ground and put in the spinach and lettuce seedlings I got at Dove Cottage.

Rounded off yesterday afternoon by doing some lawn edging and removing some nettles. Susan told me to take the sensible precaution of rolling my sleeves down. I did - I stung my ear.

All in all a very productive time and a well-earned beer at the end of the day. Seemed apt that it was a Combined Harvest made by Bateman's, a Lincolnshire brewery I was introduced to when my daughter studied at the University of Lincoln. Fine beers come from here.

Present state of affairs

I needn't have been concerned about the garden drying up while we were away on our short road trip - it's been wet for days here in Yorkshire now. Not a lot of gardening has been done in the last three or four days.

Current state is: Potatoes coming on OK, ditto onions, garlic and chives. Lettuce and salad leaves appear to have failed to germinate. Rhubarb which looked as though something had sat on it now perking up somewhat. Runner beans and Cherokee Trail of Tears in the conservatory now ready to go out, I reckon. Must think about transferring tomatoes to growbags.

And - which bloody cat left its poo on the ground where the lettuce and salad leaves are supposed to be?

We're going on a summer holiday. To make our dreams come true. For me and you.

Fun and laughter on a summer holiday.
No more worries for me and you.
For a week or two.

We're heading off north tomorrow towards Hadrian's Wall, somewhere we have never been. Actually, it's only three or four days. But it does raise a concern which I am sure worries all gardeners and allotment holders. How will the crops get on without tender love and care?

They will get a good watering tonight, but after that they're on their own until our return. Hope they cope.

The rhubarb is dead, long live the rhubarb!

Surveying a small patch beside the wall, I decided that the rhubarb I planted last year is never going to show its head above ground. Something must have had it or something must have gone seriously wrong below surface, but I feel it should have grown a bit by now.

Luckily, and very gratefully received it is, my friend Kate has given me a rhubarb crown she does not have room for in her new garden and I have now planted this in. Hopefully, this will thrive. While digging the hole I could find no sign of the previously planted rhubarb. Strange.

It also looks as though the lettuce and salad leaves I planted out recently have had it. Nothing has shown through and I reckon it should have done by now. This is the patch of ground where I have seen birds pecking away. Will have to rethink this part of the garden and decide what to do with it.

Am I dispirited? No. Winning some and losing some is all part and parcel of gardening.

One thing I am delighted about is that the mushrooms I have been cultivating have grown well and are coming through. We shall be having some tonight in a stew. Good stuff!

Sunday meditation

Time marches on and I am 58 today, a world away from the callow youth of 18 who left home in the south to go to university in Yorkshire. Since the start of this year I have been reading a poem a day, in an effort to understand and appreciate that most curious of literary forms. It still doesn't come easily or naturally to me, but I was particularly struck by a work called Leisure, written by W H Davies, who lived from 1871 to 1940 and is now best remembered as the author of The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp. If he is remembered at all, that is.

The opening lines of his poem go:

WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

Davies's words have a particular resonance for me in my changed circumstances and present frame of mind and I remember them on this special day.