We spent this morning topping up half of the strawberry bed with more topsoil: it's now ready for planting. The other half wants topping up with compost/manure, as it'll receive rhubarb crowns (which want lots and lots of organic matter), but that will wait.
In addition to another pair of cauliflowers, and a handful of courgettes, we also picked the first of our runner beans, and lifted the first celeriac. The celeriac's a little small, really, but made a very tasty soup for lunch.
Anticipating making the flower beds in the sheltered corner of the garden, we dug a hole (slightly randomly positioned) in that corner, to assess the ground. Not good. There's about 25cm of good topsoil, but below that is hardpan clay. This was somewhat expected, as the ground gets wet during autumn and winter, but it's probably worse than I thought. It probably means we'll have to bring in new soil, and may have to install some drainage aids.
Better, though, was our discovery during an afternoon walk of a damson tree: we now have a big tub of damsons, and the same of blackberries—the first of the autumn. We reckon that the apples are nearly ready, so we might have a weekend of chutney and jam in ten days time.
Tuesday 30 August 2011
Monday 29 August 2011
Midlands
As mentioned, we've been away for the weekend, visiting Liz's grandmother in Ludlow. In addition to stealing cuttings and divisions from her garden, we also went to Witley Court for a day.
The grounds, a magnificent country estate, contain the ruins of the 19th century manor house (itself a renovation of a Jacobean house, in turn built over a medieval property) that was burnt out in 1937 and never repaired. Now owned by English Heritage, it's a shell of a building, fascinating for a depiction of the type of building. The grounds are in the process of being restored, and still contain two fountains (one working).
The box hedging for the parterres was grown from cuttings taken from the original 1850's planting. When restoration began in the early 2000's, these were—to say the least—overgrown. The new plants are more typical of box hedging (6" high). However, the restoration work has produced a surplus of plants, which were for sale. We are, therefore, now the proud possessors of 18 box plants dating from the same period that the house was built: perfect stock for our own herb garden hedging. I'll work on taking cuttings and increasing the number over the next few years.
Less excitingly, we also called in at three garden centres on the way home (Dobbies, Percy Throwers, and our local Armitages), and picked up a trio of lemon cypresses, for the front garden.
Witley Court (© Ian (2011))
The Perseus & Andromeda Fountain (© Ian (2011))
Nesfield's South Parterre and the restored Perseus & Andromeda Fountain, looking towards the South Portico (© Ian (2011))
The East Parterre, with the Flora Fountain (© Ian (2011))
Gazenias in the East Parterre (© Ian (2011))
The grounds contained a couple of living willow sculptures, including this one, which caught our eye.
Willow tunnel (© Ian (2011))
Less excitingly, we also called in at three garden centres on the way home (Dobbies, Percy Throwers, and our local Armitages), and picked up a trio of lemon cypresses, for the front garden.
Thursday 25 August 2011
Potatoes by Starlight
As we're away for the weekend, and leaving straight from work tomorrow, we had to get organized tonight, which involved checking that nothing needed picking or harvesting from the vegetable garden before we went.
It was relatively successful, to start with: a good handful of courgettes, another of peas, and a few runner beans (only just starting to crop). One or two cauliflowers will probably be ready next week.
Then disaster struck. We realised that the maincrop potatoes—mainly the Golden Wonder—have been hit by blight. Not too seriously, but definitely. The Druid were asymptomatic, but a lot of Golden Wonder foliage was showing the brown spots, and collapsing. Unfortunately, this was about 8 o'clock, and light was failing, but there was nothing for it: the potatoes had to come up. If left until we're back home, then we could be left with no crop, or un-storable tubers.
So, with the aid of a torch each, we've lifted all the potatoes. It's probably only a week before we'd intended to do so anyway, but I'd rather expected to do it in the light. Daylight, I mean: it's almost (August 29th) a new moon, so there was only a bit of starlight and twilight to guide us.
Still; there appears to be approximately 50kg of Druid, and about 25kg of Golden Wonder. At this moment, I strongly doubt we'll grow Golden Wonder again: it's more floury than we like, and the russeted skin isn't a favourite. Also, the yield is a little disappointing—no better than the earlies, and it's taken up space for two months longer. In better news, though, the Druid seems excellent. We experimented with two row spacings, and the bigger spacing appears to have been worth doing. Twice the spacing, but the yield of those six plants is roughly half the total from all twenty. They also seem to have good skins, and there are some monster tubers; the foliage was also strong and tall, although it needed nets to restrain it to the beds. A likely 2012 choice, I think.
A late night, though: we'll wash them and check them over next week.
It was relatively successful, to start with: a good handful of courgettes, another of peas, and a few runner beans (only just starting to crop). One or two cauliflowers will probably be ready next week.
Then disaster struck. We realised that the maincrop potatoes—mainly the Golden Wonder—have been hit by blight. Not too seriously, but definitely. The Druid were asymptomatic, but a lot of Golden Wonder foliage was showing the brown spots, and collapsing. Unfortunately, this was about 8 o'clock, and light was failing, but there was nothing for it: the potatoes had to come up. If left until we're back home, then we could be left with no crop, or un-storable tubers.
So, with the aid of a torch each, we've lifted all the potatoes. It's probably only a week before we'd intended to do so anyway, but I'd rather expected to do it in the light. Daylight, I mean: it's almost (August 29th) a new moon, so there was only a bit of starlight and twilight to guide us.
Still; there appears to be approximately 50kg of Druid, and about 25kg of Golden Wonder. At this moment, I strongly doubt we'll grow Golden Wonder again: it's more floury than we like, and the russeted skin isn't a favourite. Also, the yield is a little disappointing—no better than the earlies, and it's taken up space for two months longer. In better news, though, the Druid seems excellent. We experimented with two row spacings, and the bigger spacing appears to have been worth doing. Twice the spacing, but the yield of those six plants is roughly half the total from all twenty. They also seem to have good skins, and there are some monster tubers; the foliage was also strong and tall, although it needed nets to restrain it to the beds. A likely 2012 choice, I think.
A late night, though: we'll wash them and check them over next week.
Tuesday 23 August 2011
Green Manure
Hmm: six weeks earlier than last time. Having cleared the onions last week, there's a patch of ground that now won't be resown with crops until the spring. Some of it will have spring cabbages, when they're big enough to transplant. In the remainder, I've sown two more rows of salad leaves, and two of radishes, but the rest (about 2–3 blocks) with green manure. This is a winter mix of red clover, crimson clover, mustard, and Italian ryegrass: it should get growing before the winter bites, and will serve four functions.
We'll hoe and dig in the plants in the spring, before the set seed. It didn't work brilliantly last year, I think because we only had the beds finished in time to sow the seed in late October. But with a month to get growing, I hope for greater success.
- Weed suppression: the clovers smother weeds;
- Nitrogen fixing: the clovers' roots take nitrogen from the atmosphere and fix it in the soil; the ryegrass helps release it gradually next season;
- Organic matter: the leafy bulk of the plants, and especially the mustard, add organic matter to the soil when they're dug in;
- Soil stabilization: bare soil leaches nutrients in the winter rain, but having the manure roots growing reduces/prevents this.
We'll hoe and dig in the plants in the spring, before the set seed. It didn't work brilliantly last year, I think because we only had the beds finished in time to sow the seed in late October. But with a month to get growing, I hope for greater success.
Sunday 21 August 2011
Patchwork Exhibition
We had my parents visiting for the weekend, and had a pleasant and relaxing time with them. We discovered the Bankfield Museum, which is an unassuming gem outside Halifax. It currently has an exhibition of patchwork by members of a local quilting group: there are some beautiful, and innovative pieces on show. There are also permanent exhibitions of textiles, a Duke of Wellington's Regiment museum, a costume gallery, and a toy gallery. It's well worth a visit.
We made a seriously tasty apple and almond pudding cake, too, which I will endeavour to load onto the recipe page when I get round to it.
We made a seriously tasty apple and almond pudding cake, too, which I will endeavour to load onto the recipe page when I get round to it.
Wednesday 17 August 2011
Onions
The onions have been gently collapsing for a few weeks, and although I would ideally leave them outside to dry and ripen, the weather doesn't look favourable. It's probably going to be damp for the next week or so, and I don't want the bulbs rotting.
To avoid this, we've lifted them, and put them on racks in the dining room to dry out. It'll mean the room smells rather onion-y for a while, but there you go. We normally eat in the kitchen, anyway...
Yield seems good: there were only about a dozen that were smaller than one-meal in size, and many that were two- or three-meal bulbs. We'll weigh and count them when they're ready. However, I'm leaning to the conclusion that the Hyred are smallest; the New Fen Globe were largest. They also bolted far less—I don't think any formed flower stems, but there were probably 4 Hyred, and a couple of Autumn Golds that did.
To avoid this, we've lifted them, and put them on racks in the dining room to dry out. It'll mean the room smells rather onion-y for a while, but there you go. We normally eat in the kitchen, anyway...
Yield seems good: there were only about a dozen that were smaller than one-meal in size, and many that were two- or three-meal bulbs. We'll weigh and count them when they're ready. However, I'm leaning to the conclusion that the Hyred are smallest; the New Fen Globe were largest. They also bolted far less—I don't think any formed flower stems, but there were probably 4 Hyred, and a couple of Autumn Golds that did.
Sunday 14 August 2011
Raspberry Supports
Well, the wood's been sitting there for five months, and the raspberry beds have been nominally finished for longer (nearly a year), but the raspberry beds are now complete. Really.
Except for re-stitching the nets where the old stitching has split. One day, maybe, they'll be done.
However, I have now added the horizontal supports that allow us to stretch wires along the beds, onto which we have tied the raspberry stems. They're about 70 and 130cm above ground level, which is about right for the current height of the canes, but can be moved later if needed. I'm glad to have this done: some of the canes were getting a bit battered by wind, especially the tallest (about six foot now).
Liz collected some new flowers for the house.
We managed to squeeze some other odds and ends into the dry bit of the weekend (which began at 1500 on Sunday): repotting the Christmas tree (not looking happy—again). The last one didn't look well last summer, and eventually died. The replacement is now looking a bit bare at the bottom, which is unsettling, so we've replanted into a deeper pot, in hope.
The second-early potatoes (lifted a week ago) are now washed and ready to store. The space they liberated is partly re-sown: a patch of salad leaves, two rows of spring cabbages ('Frostie' F1; 3" by 6"), a couple of rows of Zlata radishes, and about 40 turnips ('Golden Ball'; 6" by 12" spacing). The cabbages are just there to germinate; we'll move them to their final spot once the potatoes currently occupying it are out. Everything else is a quick crop, and will be replaced in autumn/early winter by overwintering alliums. There's still about a square metre unused, between the turnips and the maincrop Golden Wonder potatoes, but otherwise we're still fully occupied.
The onions, though, are on their way out. Almost all the foliage has fallen over, and is yellowing. A bit of dry weather would help!
Except for re-stitching the nets where the old stitching has split. One day, maybe, they'll be done.
However, I have now added the horizontal supports that allow us to stretch wires along the beds, onto which we have tied the raspberry stems. They're about 70 and 130cm above ground level, which is about right for the current height of the canes, but can be moved later if needed. I'm glad to have this done: some of the canes were getting a bit battered by wind, especially the tallest (about six foot now).
Liz collected some new flowers for the house.
Mixed vase. © Ian (2011).
We managed to squeeze some other odds and ends into the dry bit of the weekend (which began at 1500 on Sunday): repotting the Christmas tree (not looking happy—again). The last one didn't look well last summer, and eventually died. The replacement is now looking a bit bare at the bottom, which is unsettling, so we've replanted into a deeper pot, in hope.
The second-early potatoes (lifted a week ago) are now washed and ready to store. The space they liberated is partly re-sown: a patch of salad leaves, two rows of spring cabbages ('Frostie' F1; 3" by 6"), a couple of rows of Zlata radishes, and about 40 turnips ('Golden Ball'; 6" by 12" spacing). The cabbages are just there to germinate; we'll move them to their final spot once the potatoes currently occupying it are out. Everything else is a quick crop, and will be replaced in autumn/early winter by overwintering alliums. There's still about a square metre unused, between the turnips and the maincrop Golden Wonder potatoes, but otherwise we're still fully occupied.
The onions, though, are on their way out. Almost all the foliage has fallen over, and is yellowing. A bit of dry weather would help!
Friday 12 August 2011
Gladioli
Many of the gladioli that we planted in April came up (I've not counted), and four have put up flower stems. Given that it's quite windy at the moment, we've cut two to bring inside. Hopefully they'll continue flowering for a couple of months, so we should have a good supply of flowers to brighten the house.
Gladiolus (© Ian 2011)
Tuesday 9 August 2011
Conflicting Advice
We're thinking of ordering some bulbs and plants in the next month or so, and one that's caught our eye is Oxalis versicolour, or candy cane oxalis.
Based on the catalogue entry, they're hardy, and flower over the winter, so we thought of them for hanging baskets in the front. However, my research suggests they may not be hardy, and opinion on when they flower differs (late summer to autumn; early summer; winter).
If anyone has definitive advice (preferably for northern England), it'd be gratefully received...
'Candy canes' by Tanakawho
Based on the catalogue entry, they're hardy, and flower over the winter, so we thought of them for hanging baskets in the front. However, my research suggests they may not be hardy, and opinion on when they flower differs (late summer to autumn; early summer; winter).
If anyone has definitive advice (preferably for northern England), it'd be gratefully received...
Sunday 7 August 2011
Cauliflowers
It's been a wet weekend, with rain most of Sunday, and a couple of showers on Saturday.
This did not deter. Yesterday, we started by pruning the flowering currant (Ribes sanguineum) which is next to the path down to the kitchen garden. It's been neglected for some time, so we took out a lot of old wood, and reshaped it; hopefully it will reward us next year.
We also lifted the second-early potatoes (Nicola and Juliette), yielding about 40kg of tubers (about 1kg/plant). I'm a bit disappointed by the yield, which isn't any better than the first-earlies. That said, we do appear to have lost a relatively high number to mice. I'll weigh them more precisely when they're cleaned and ready to store.
In more exciting news, we found that two cauliflowers were ready. There are a further three that are getting close. We ate half of one on Saturday, and blanched-and-froze the other half. The pictured cauli remains in the fridge, for dinner on Monday.
On Sunday, we spent some time planning for the next round of planting: the overwintering onions and garlic will be on their way before long, and we've added seeds for some turnips ('Golden Ball'), overwintering spring onions ('White Lisbon Winter Hardy'), and spring cabbages ('Frostie F1'). This lead to us making a planting plan for next spring, which I'll digitize in time, so now we have a good idea of what we'll sow next year (and where) and, accordingly, what the fertilization needs will be this autumn.
A big seed order in October/November will be the result, as we'll obviously need more onions sets, seed potatoes, and new seeds for a number of other things (parsnips, leeks, mangetout, and beetroot are definites).
For now, I shall just revel in the beauty of my first cauliflower. It's the first time we've had them work.
This did not deter. Yesterday, we started by pruning the flowering currant (Ribes sanguineum) which is next to the path down to the kitchen garden. It's been neglected for some time, so we took out a lot of old wood, and reshaped it; hopefully it will reward us next year.
We also lifted the second-early potatoes (Nicola and Juliette), yielding about 40kg of tubers (about 1kg/plant). I'm a bit disappointed by the yield, which isn't any better than the first-earlies. That said, we do appear to have lost a relatively high number to mice. I'll weigh them more precisely when they're cleaned and ready to store.
In more exciting news, we found that two cauliflowers were ready. There are a further three that are getting close. We ate half of one on Saturday, and blanched-and-froze the other half. The pictured cauli remains in the fridge, for dinner on Monday.
Cauliflower 'All Year Round' (© Ian (2011))
On Sunday, we spent some time planning for the next round of planting: the overwintering onions and garlic will be on their way before long, and we've added seeds for some turnips ('Golden Ball'), overwintering spring onions ('White Lisbon Winter Hardy'), and spring cabbages ('Frostie F1'). This lead to us making a planting plan for next spring, which I'll digitize in time, so now we have a good idea of what we'll sow next year (and where) and, accordingly, what the fertilization needs will be this autumn.
A big seed order in October/November will be the result, as we'll obviously need more onions sets, seed potatoes, and new seeds for a number of other things (parsnips, leeks, mangetout, and beetroot are definites).
For now, I shall just revel in the beauty of my first cauliflower. It's the first time we've had them work.
Wednesday 3 August 2011
Wish-List
A plant was shown on a Gardeners' World we were watching tonight (though it's actually from a couple of months ago), and it rather caught my eye. One for the wish-list, I think. It's the South African night-scented phlox (though not a phlox), Zaluzianskya ovata or capensis.
They both have red-backed, white-faced flowers that open slightly in the morning, close in the full sun of day, and re-open in the evening when they're heavily fragrant. I think a drift in a rock garden would be very pretty.
Today is also the second anniversary of us moving into the cottage; I had hoped, whimsically, to time the 200th post with today, which would have worked if I'd got out into the garden last night, and had something to report. Never mind.
They both have red-backed, white-faced flowers that open slightly in the morning, close in the full sun of day, and re-open in the evening when they're heavily fragrant. I think a drift in a rock garden would be very pretty.
Zaluzianskya capensis by Sericea.
Today is also the second anniversary of us moving into the cottage; I had hoped, whimsically, to time the 200th post with today, which would have worked if I'd got out into the garden last night, and had something to report. Never mind.
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