Rainy day musings

Lush countryside around Auchterhouse

Really heavy rain yesterday morning prevented all activity in the garden, but we were going out in any case to a family occasion in Derbyshire so I would not have had time.

I have been researching my family history over the course of the last six months or so, a subject you perhaps tend to get more interested in as you get older. Specifically, I have been delving into the background of my mother. She was a very private person and only mentioned it once or twice, so I thought it was time I cracked the mystery.

One of things I know for definite is that she was born at 10 Glebe Street, Dundee, a holy grail address for fans of the Broons cartoon characters. They have lived at this tenement since first appearing in print in the Sunday Post in 1936 and I am now the proud owner of Ma Broon's Cookbook, the inside of which contains an illustration of a postcard addressed to the Broons at 10 Glebe Street, Dundee. I am now officially Oor Andy.

The other thing I know is that my mother's mother, the maternal grandmother I never knew, was the daughter of a ploughman. He and his family moved around farms in the Dundee area from the 1880s onwards and I had the pleasure of visiting Auchterhouse, one of the villages where they lived, during a visit to Scotland earlier this year.

Quite what Charles Stewart Christie would have made of my puny efforts in the garden, I will never know. But I like to think there is something in the genes.

A potty day

I'm still unsure whether my tomatoes are going to work out this year. I've three varieties on the go, Lightfruit, Harbinger and Yellow Pear-Shaped, all from seed packets acquired as a gift or because the price was knocked down in a sale. The few plants outside had to be dug up and destroyed about a week ago because of blight while the indoor plants have yet to ripen.

They are showing nice bunches of fruit and have grown and spread out noticeably in the sun of recent days, so much so that I returned home this lunchtime from a morning out to discover that one of the pots had toppled over and taken two or three of the others with it. A quick rearrangement and a few new stakes have stabilised them, but the basic problem is that this year I eschewed growbags in favour of pots and I chose too small. I think also that nine pots is a step too many for the space I have in our conservatory.

I'm not quite sure at this distance why I decided against going with growbags this time. They worked perfectly satisfactorily last year and gave me a bumper crop. Think on for next year.

I took a photograph of the Lightfruit tomatoes, a name I sniggered over at the time I was given the seeds. They are in fact quite heavy and promise to be productive.

Back in business

The blog is resuming today after a short break when I didn't feel like doing it. I felt at the time that the writing was not very good, that I was spending more time than I really wished on the blog and that it wasn't adding anything to the good of the world.

I'm in a better frame of mind now, have decided to come out of anonymity with it, have added a photo of the real me and will be writing a proper personal profile. What the hell, it's only a diary that I don't mind other people reading.

Gardening has continued, albeit it in a lazy and half-hearted way in comparison to other people. I've recently come across two websites which have inspired me to get back on track with blogging - one called UK Veg Gardeners and the other My Tiny Plot . Both are run by a woman called Gillian Carson, the latter site being her personal blog and the former a social site for veg gardeners in general.

All I've got to do now is grow some bloody veg (puts on his Michael Caine voice).

Thyme marches on

A day of mostly rain and even a little bit of sleet when we ventured out to do some shopping. Even worse weather tomorrow, they say.

On the plus side, the English thyme seeds I started off in the conservatory just a short while ago are starting to come through. Nothing else showing yet in the trays, but they will come. Of that I am sure

Hang on, we’re not there yet

I did it, I remembered to put the clocks forward by one hour. It has been a nice day here as we race towards April, although The Pulse radio station in Bradford was overdoing it a fair bit by claiming on Facebook that it was the first day of summer.

As a matter of fact, they are wrong. It is not the first day of summer, as others have pointed out on Facebook. In addition - and I don't know if it should be described as irony - we are forecast snow and sleet in our part of the country over the next few days. We've got some way to go before summer.

Making the most of today's good weather, I have turned my attention to our neglected flower borders and made a good start on clearing the dead wood from one of them. It was only just over an hour of work, but I felt I had achieved something. The car boot is full of stuff to take to the tip tomorrow.

I was pleased to notice that my rhubarb has sprung back into life after virtually vanishing over winter. I have two lots, one a crown which Kate gave me and the other which was a seedling I must have bought from somewhere. Both died back over winter almost to the point where you were left wondering if they had ever been there.

When I mentioned my concern over their disappearance, Kate suggested that I cover them with pots in an effort to force them. I'm delighted to say it seems to have done the trick and they are growing. The trouble now is knowing when to uncover them, but I think that I shall leave it for a bit if we are due snow and sleet.

Rhubarb is one of my very favourite things from the garden, its tart taste being much to my liking. The seeds I got from the Royal Horticultural Society included a recipe for rhubarb chutney, something I will definitely try if I get a good crop.

A gift is delivered

I realise that I don't know where the expression gift horse comes from, but I know one when I see one. In this case, it's free seeds from the Royal Horticultural Society which I sent away for recently.

They come courtesy of the RHS grow your own campaign and the pack I have received contains carrots (Nantes Frubund) and tomato (Gardener's Delight). I have no immediate need of the latter, having just set off my tomato seeds, but I shall probably give the carrots a whirl sometime.

The pack also includes a container growing guide & some recipe cards. Quite fancy the carrot cake with lemon cheese frosting. Sadly, I would have to use bought ingredients if I made it now.

I am glad to have had this pack. It's good to get something for nothing.

Getting stuck in

Spring is just around the corner, with the equinox this Saturday (17.32, to be precise) and the clocks going forward the following weekend. I am matching the seasonal change with a burst of activity in the garden.

Susan drove me to Kershaw's Garden Centre in Brighouse this morning to get the bags of manure I spotted the other day when I took a walk there. Five bags of J Arthur Bower's Blended Farm Manure, a snip at £20 the lot. As Susan says, this makes it the most expensive vegetables ever.

Two of the bags were dug in as soon as we returned and the remaining three are awaiting the plots being fully prepared. We later went to Wilkinson's in Brighouse to get two tubs of poultry manure which I shall use in the near future and five bags of potting compost.

I noticed with delight while digging in the manure that the white onions I planted last year are at last beginning to come through. There was no sign of shoots just a couple of days ago, but the sun really seems to have done them good. Hope they maintain their progress.

I started off some tomato and herb seeds in propagating trays - three filled with tomatoes and three with oregano, dill and English thyme. It was with some alarm that I noticed the tomatoes are called lightfruit, harbinger and yellow pear-shaped, hardly names to fill you with confidence. The lightfruit packet was from the Dig for Victory set which Dorothy gave me for Christmas and the other two were Thomas Etty packets I got for the knockdown price of 20p each at Oxfam in Ilkley last year. Looking forward to seeing how they turn out.

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).

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.

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! 

New Year musings

The snow was almost gone yesterday, but a new flurry this morning has left the ground covered again. Before it fell I was able to do a quick inspection of the ground and see loads of cat crap on the patch where I have planted the onions. Nowhere else has this neighbour's cat pooed. Does it think it's dropping a nice piece of manure to help the onions along or is there some scent from the bulbs that attracts animals? I'll be very interested to see if this piece of produce ever comes to fruition.

The people who run the excellent Blagger site have been out tending to their raspberries. They admit themselves it's a little late, but it prompts me to think I am even later and must get on with the job. It's not much of a task, just a bit of pruning to get the plants in order for the new year. Must do it - when it stops snowing.

Santa visits our house

Christmas Day arrives and Dorothy has bought me the welcome present of three packets of seeds and a herb mix from the Imperial War Museum North in Manchester (all right, all right, Salford).

The seeds are tomatoes, onions and nasturtiums and I can't wait to get them in the ground next year around June time, tomatoes a bit earlier. 

The herb mix is very intriguing, being a mix of parsley, chives and basil in what resembles a tea bag. Indeed, you do have to soak it in a bowl of water for a day before planting.

Whatever will they think of next.

 

Winter wonderland

 

Today I woke up to heavy snow, really huge flakes falling, and I felt glad that I did not have to get up and go to work. It seems as if we will see out 2009 in snow, just as we saw the year in.

Hard to imagine that a green garden existed here not all that long ago. As I surveyed the scene from our bedroom window, I spied a cat having a crap – right on the spot where I planted the onions, the only things that I have planted out at the moment (apart from the dubious existence of rhubarb). Why there?, Why, why?

Rhubarb puzzler grips this part of the world

Does rhubarb hibernate over winter? I ask because there is no trace of my smaller rhubarb and only a stub of the bigger one. Susan did say earlier this year that she wondered if they would come to anything. Now it looks as if they have indeed come to nothing.