Chit chat

Met my mate Kevin in the shop this morning and went round the corner with him to look at the allotment he has with his wife Judith. I was envious of what they had growing, but I suppose it's only a reflection of their hard work and application. Puts my puny efforts to shame.

We got to talking about chitting potatoes, both of us agreeing that the jury is still out on whether it is a useful thing to do or not. Generally, the advice if you do chit is that it should be done in a place which is frost free and has light. Kevin told me he does his in the dark in the cellar, partly because that's the best place for him to put them. But he added that it's simply an extension of the chitting process when you do eventually bury the spuds in the ground, so what's wrong with starting them off in the dark? It sounded logical to me when he said it.

Enthused by what I had seen, I took a short stroll to the garden centre this afternoon to buy some more chicken poo, but there was none to be had. Good job too as I realised on the way there that my back was in a bit of a fragile state, although only in a minor way. Hauling a big tub back on foot wouldn't have done me any good. Talking of chickens, I have a bottle of Old Speckled Hen beer at home and will console myself with that.

Passed a lama in the field on my way to the garden centre. I had known the animal was there, but had never seen it close up. Not what you expect to see around our way.

I am born again

My Lady Balfour potatoes have been delivered from Thompson & Morgan and I have put them in an egg box to start the process of chitting. Experts may say I've started late in the day, but they do say everything has been put back at least four weeks because of the poor weather we have had.

Mentioning to friends about the potatoes, I realised no labelling had come with them (other than general instructions for growing potatoes) and that I could not remember whether they were maincrop or what. Turns out they are early maincrop, named after the Soil Association founder. They are claimed to have impressive blight resistance and to give huge yields, even in poorer soils.

Doing a couple of hours of overdue digging this morning, I was reminded of how poor the soil is in my garden and how very many stones there are. Hardly surprising really as our neighbourhood was once noted for its quarries and stone mines. I was surprised today to find three or four pieces of broken glass turning up as I dug the earth over. Where did they come from?

I was pleased that the Lady Balfour spuds are produced in Perth, not far from where my mother came from. Let's hope they live up to expectations.

The spuds are coming, honest

A stunning blue sky today gives the impression that spring must be here. Snowdrops are bursting to life on the field where the owners sprayed poison and then tried to persuade the council that their housing plan would help to encourage wildlife. Whatever was in that poison was good - the snowdrops are the only ones I have seen so far this year. Is irony the right word here?

Yet frosts persist and the ground is still very hard in many places. Digging and planting will have to wait awhile, but I must start chitting the bloody potatoes. Spurred on by an offer of free postage this weekend from Thompson & Morgan, I have ordered 20 tubers of Lady Balfour potatoes. The claim that they give huge yields, even in poorer soils, clinched it for me. 

We shall see if I can do better than last year with my spuds. 

I'm stalled

We're in the first few days of March now and still no progress in the garden. Come on, be honest, no activity at all.

I'm feeling less guilty after reading that the delightful people at Blagger.co.uk have only just started chitting their potatoes. If they can get so far behind, so can I. But I have made a mental resolution to get down to Wilko's fast and buy some spuds. Probably be a main crop this year.

Kate sent me some onion sets today. Will get them in when the ground is less sodden (another excuse).

Snow joke

Somewhere underneath that snow is a black dog. Aged 12, but acting like a big kid.

As I write, it has been snowing again a couple of times this morning after last night's fall and the forecast is that it doesn't look too good over the next couple of days. Given that, it's a surprise to be reminded by John Harrison in his allotment email newsletter that now's the time to start thinking about your seed potatoes and start chitting them.

Nothing was further from my mind, but I suppose I ought to start thinking about his advice. I need to decide what to grow and where to grow it. Finding a frost free place with some light for chitting is going to take some doing, I have to say. 

John Harrison relates his father-in-law's story about competitions where you had to grow as many potatoes from one seed potato as you could. The competitors would chit them and then carefully cut out each sprout and grow them on in pots. Then they would strike cuttings from the foliage and grow those on. 

Apparently a hundredweight (112 lbs or 51Kg) was often achieved! 

Woe is me

A beautiful spring day today, but still unable to do anything because my hand and arm remain quite sore. Getting worse, if anything. Potatoes are chitting along nicely, but will have to stay in their box for a while until I get better. Botheration.

Things are on the move

Who knows if this is too late, but I have started chitting my potatoes in the conservatory. Arran Piper variety caught my fancy in the shop the other day, so I bought them. They are first early spuds and need to be planted in February or March, the label said. Still haven't dug the ground for them, never mind given time for chitting. Was going to make a start on preparing space yesterday, but the noise from the chainsaws being used to hack the adjacent bungalow's leylandii drove me nuts and I had to retreat. Chitting, I have discovered, is nothing more than putting them in a box and waiting for shoots to come through.

Must start planning ahead a bit more and deciding what I am going to do. Need to remind myself about the Cherokee Trail of Tears my friend Steve sent me. He says, incidentally, that they harvest their garlic come July when the green tops are dry and brown. I bow to superior knowledge. He always strings his, like onions. Don't know if I'll have enough to do that.