SIEZE THE DAY

                                   

Watching the insects and birds start preparing for winter always reminds me of the story about the hard-working ants sensibly making winter stores and the lazy grasshopper not bothering and living for the day. He might as well though, as he’s unlikely to survive the winter.

Sorry, that was a bit bleak, here's a cheery puppy pic:

GATHERING

Sedum spectabile is a brilliant plant for this time of the year, in fact the one pictured is called ‘Brilliant’.  The bumble bees are going mad for it - frantically collecting nectar while the pickings are still relatively easy.  There’s a sense of nature getting ready for the autumn shut down, so it’s good to have some nectar rich blossoms around now.  There’s another Sedum variety called ‘Autumn Joy’ which has russety pink flower heads that look good as the flowers fade. Autumn joy is just what we need at the moment.

                                                  

WAYWARD

The garden is a little careworn and unruly, but I shall only tidy what’s absolutely necessary.  I have a feeling that if I start cutting things back and clearing spaces, I won’t stop and the garden will take on a bare and autumnal feeling before I’m ready to let go of the summer.  August is the hardest month for me.  I used to hate going on holiday at the end August as a child.  Seeing the harvesting going on, the empty fields - and school looming.

TEENAGE CHICKS

The veg patch is under seige - the gorgeous little chicks that hatched at the beginning of July are now teenaged, but they’re still small enough to get through the fence within the hedge, where they take great delight in eating crops, scratching up seedlings and making dirt baths in the newly sown beds.  The mother hen takes no notice, in fact she encourages them in their looting.

I’m still trying not to go into the veg patch too much, as the Bullfinches that have been nesting in the tiny standard Bay tree have hatched, but are not near to fledging yet.  I tiptoed in to take some photos of them and all 5 eggs had hatched. They are ugly-cute and grumpy looking - but then they are crammed into a nest the size of a tennis ball.  Both parents are on duty and if anyone walks past the Bay tree they make a distinctive alarm call, so we try to keep out of the way.  Once the babies fledge there will be a huge abundance of seeds for them to eat around the garden, but Bullfinches also like to eat new buds on fruit bushes and Forsythias etc in spring.  I do wonder who I’m gardening for sometimes.

FLORIFEROUS VEG

The plant featured in the photo (with the purple flowers) is an Aubergine.  It makes a great decorative plant regardless of it’s edible properties.  I’ll be making Aubergine Gratin from these, if they come to anything, that is.  The problem with tender fruiting veg like aubergines, peppers and tomatoes is that they take a long time to ripen in our climate.

There are more flowers than vegetables in my veg patch ('Is there anything to eat in here at all?' says my husband).  Nasturtiums are cascading in great orange heaps; marigolds and Verbena bonariensis seedlings are popping up everywhere and Crocosmia has crept into all the corners.  I love it, but admit that it’s all getting  a bit out of hand.  I’m trying to be ruthless, thinning them out to make way for new crops for next season.  

FORKING POTATOES

I don’t know why I do it, but I always use a fork to lift my potatoes and then inevitably the fork goes right through them as I dig down.  Spades can be just as bad, slicing through instead of pronging them.  There’s probably a special tool somewhere that will lift potatoes without damage.  If it removes every tuber (that’s the other problem - any left in will grow up as weeds through next year’s crops) I’ll get one.

I’ve grown lots of different sunflowers - some brown, some deep rusty red and a few (because there were only 6 seeds in the packet) pale lemon yellow.  I’ve also grown some lovely ones that look a bit like how I imagine an eclipse would be - dark centres surrounded by a striped lighter corona. But my favourites are the cheerful yellow ones with deep velvety middles.  Sunflowers and daffodils should be yellow, serving to nearly make up for any lack of sunshine.

The insects in the garden are in a frenzy of activity, collecting nectar and pollen and generally making honey while the sun shines.  The constant low hum of their busy buzzing and the delicate fluttering of the butterflies is so delightful and uplifting that it makes me not care about all the jobs I should be getting on with.

                                       

There are certain plants that are real magnets for the nectar seekers.  The bees love Lavender, while the butterflies are flocking to the Hebes (“Great Orme” is the one pictured).  Verbena bonariensis seems to be the plant that all the insects find irresistible.  If you want to attract butterflies and bees into your garden it’s best to choose single flowered plants rather than frilly double blooms and sterile cultivars.  An infertile plant has no need for nectar or pollen.

Some more good plants for a nectar bar:
Contoneaster
Scabious
Sedum
aster
Escallonia
Privet
Most herbs when in flower
And nearly all wild plants

MIND THE GAP

It’s hard to keep the garden full of colour all through the summer.  Once the early rush is over (Delphiniums, Lupins, Geums and other cottage perennials), there can be a dull patch in the border before the late summer flowers like Dahlias, Asters and Rudbeckias arrive.  There are some ways of avoiding this:  The first is to grow long season performers that just keep on flowering from June until the frosts - things like Verbena bonariensis, Guara lindheimeri and Geranium ‘Rozanne’ (above). Secondly grow annuals like Cosmos, Nicotiana, Sweet peas and Mina lobata (a tender climber pictured right).  This is labour intensive, but will ensure fowers for a ong time - providing you keep dead-heading them.  I also cram bulbs like lilies and Crocosmia in between the other plants - either in the ground, or in pots, depending on the space available and the bleakness of the scene.

But whatever steps you take to avoid it, like a trapped air bubble, the gap can sometimes appear when you’re not expecting it.  Our weather makes it all very unpredictable. I have a feeling it will be late this year as all the end of summer stuff’s already here.  there’s no remedy for this, except perhaps to bring in some early autumn bedding plants ...

SUCH SWEET SORREL

I haven’t grown sorrel before; this is sorrel ‘Blood veined’ which is pretty enough for the borders (but don't, it's quite invasive).  The young leaves are the ones to eat; tasting sharp (I want to say lemony, but it’s not quite that). It makes a good tangy salad ingredient, goes well with chicken and maybe fish.

The first harvests are ready in the veg patch - new potatoes, early carrots , salad and beetroot.  All my peas have been eaten by baby squirrels this year - they climb the plants and carefully extract the peas, leaving the empty pods dangling as a forlorn taunt.   They’re pesky and I want to shoot them, but instead I just haven’t planted any more peas.  Controlling pests is the biggest challenge in a productive garden - I will happily squash caterpillars and even cabbage white butterflies, but I can’t deal with them when they’re cute and furry.

MAGNOLIA SOULANGEANA

Magnolia soulangeana is a wonderful tree, often planted in pride of place in front gardens.  But watch out - eventually it will grow huge and they’re not easy to keep pruned.  Nevertheless, it’s hard to beat - for the ‘springtime’ feeling it brings, if nothing else.

EASTER TREATS

                         

I look forward to putting up the ‘Easter tree’ as much as the Christmas one.  I’m not sure when I started this - or why - but I love watching the Blackthorn branch that I bring inside instantly blossoming once it’s in a vase of water.

At last the purple sprouting broccoli is ready after 10 long months battling caterpillars, pigeons and the ravages of a very hard winter.  I shall savour every mouthful and ignore complaints about tough stalks (it doesn’t have tough stalks, at least not until the very end of the season....)  The great thing about this crop is that you harvest it when not much else is around and that includes caterpillars that have a habit later in the season of lurking among calabrese stalks and only coming to light once you’ve served them onto a plate, lightly steamed within the florets.  Yummy.

SPRING FORWARD

Spring forward, Fall back - that’s how to remember which way the clock goes when the hour changes.  I think we need it to happen the other way round, so that we get more light in the autumn evenings, but maybe getting an hour less sleep when it’s getting colder and darker, might be too much.  It takes less time to recover from the hour change when you know that the long summer evenings are just around the corner...

Now is a good time to plant up a new border with container grown plants - before the weather starts to get too hot and dry.  Try to get the plants established before the summer. 

RHUBARB RHUBARB

Rhubarb is not to everyone’s taste, and in fact only a couple of us like it here, but I seem to have planted about half an acre regardless.  Luckily I love rhubarb - the colour of the stems, the wonderful leaves (there’s an ornamental rhubarb - Rheum palmatum, which looks great in a damp border) and the taste.  You can use a Rhubarb forcer early in the season (or an upturned old flowerpot) to make the stems longer and less stringy - by depriving them of light.

There’s meant to be a photo and a link to my Rhubarb and ginger crumble cake here, but something went wrong and the crumble part sank to the bottom of the cake when I made it.  It tasted fine, but I can’t unleash the recipe until it behaves itself better or is more photogenic, at least.

FLIPPING PANCAKES AGAIN

Shrove Tuesday coincides with our hens cranking up to maximum lay, as the light comes back and they feel the urges of the season.  There are many things I could give up for Lent, but eggs are definitely not one of them, in fact we have to have pancakes every day - today on Shrove Tuesday - and for the foreseeable future.  At some point the pure-breeds will decide to go broody, but broodiness has been bred out of the hybrids, so they just keep on laying heroically, day in day out.

Alpines are among my favourite plants - they’re so tiny and so perfect -  just imagine them in flowering on the mountainsides as the snow melts (the hills are alive with a carpet of alpines ...)  They come in such lovely colours too - all the shades of Easter, although these might be over by the time it comes this year.

LOVE IS A HEART SHAPED POTATO

Chitting potatoes is an odd habit and has been proven (by Gardener’s World a few years ago) not to be necessary for most varieties.  Earlies benefit from it, but they found no significant increase in yield for later crops.  Chitting, for the uninitiated, is the practice of placing seed potatoes in a light, frost free environment to encourage shoots to form on the tubers.  This is supposed to give them a head start, encourage early growth and higher yields .... or not.  Anyway, I do it, partly because there’s nothing better to do with potatoes until at least the middle of March, and because the good varieties sell out quickly, I buy them early, so they’d only be hanging around in a bag somewhere.

I’m rifling through my seed packets a lot now and have been outside a bit, mainly to stare forlornly at my wreck of a garden, but that’s a start.  I might sort out some seed trays and face the mess in the potting shed in a day or two.  It’s a bit like when you’ve invited guests to come and stay; you know you’ll have to clear the decks  and make up the beds, but somehow it always gets left until just before they arrive.

A LEEK BY ANY OTHER NAME

Leeks are so trustworthy.  They take a long time to grow to any significant size and you do have to do peculiar things to them if you want them to have a long white stem (transplant them when they’re pencil thick into a deeper hole and leave them lolling in it without backfilling around them), but apart from that, nothing.  They’ll sit there happily through the winter, come hell and other things like snow and frost and gales and possibly high water; ready to harvest whenever you like, and cooked however you like (try leek and goat’s cheese tart for starters).  I grew a lovely heritage variety last year called ‘Blue Solaise’ that had deep blue/green leaves.  I grew it next to some lovely red cabbages and had the wretched caterpillars not eaten the cabbages, they would have looked so beautiful together ...

Tentative and precious, the first flowers are emerging now.  Snowdrops, crocuses, early narcissi and hellebores are dotted about the garden, like brave pioneers in a new land.  They’ll soon be overshadowed by the mad spring rush. but at the moment they have the place to themselves.  Plant them where you can see them, or by the front door, they’ll be a cheery sight on a bleak February day.

WINDOW GARDENING

We participated in the Big Garden Bird Watch this weekend (see www.RSPB.org).   Our efforts were nearly spoiled by Carmelita the hen who came marauding over to the bird table - “She is a big bird and she’s in our garden.” said Alice.  “I’m sure it counts, I’ll put her down in the box marked moorhen.”
Perhaps I’ll go back to doing the watch on my own next year.


If, like me you have lots of garden jobs to do, but you’re finding it hard to get out there, don’t despair; I have a plan.  Wait for a nice sunny day, bake a cake and hide it, then force yourself to go outside for at least 2 hours before coming in to put the kettle on and unearth the cake.  Shame on you if you just eat the cake without working outside for it, and double shame if you don’t even bother to bake the cake.  Motivation is a tricky subject.

UNDERMINED

We’re being attacked on all sides by pesky little creatures at the moment.  The moles have now dug so many tunnels I’m worried that the house might start sinking - and we have had an invasion of mice.  They are sweet little fieldmice and Alice is very fond of them, so we have to put down humane traps (except when she’s not looking).  They go back to the fields in spring (stopping at my greenhouse on the way to eat all the early peas), but until then we’re at war.

Not much is happening in the veg patch, but I’m still able to harvest a few hardy crops.  there are plenty of leeks, lots of kale, a few miserable sprouts (no-one wants to eat those now) and lots of oriental mustard, which is much hardier than it looks.  Growth slows almost to a standstill at this time of the year, but as the light levels increase, if we get even a few days of warmer weather, it will start up again.

PEA SHOOTERS

                                

Fresh new shoots in dark earth must stir something primordial in some of us.  Those first stirrings of growth do more to shake off a lingering winter depression than any pills - or is it just me?  I’m having problems sowing peas, or rather, problems with things eating peas - mice go mad for peas and beans and can sniff them out wherever they’ve been planted.  I’m thinking of sowing mine in a lead casket, as they’ve penetrated everything else.  It must have been a very long winter for wildlife, as crops that aren’t usually touched by pests are being attacked.

If you don’t normally grow anything form scratch do try it.  It’s exciting to
see seeds germinating, growing and eventually doing what they should - whether that’s giving you armfuls of flowers, bumper crops of edibles, or a little bit of each.  Look on the website  to see what I’m sowing this year.

INFINITE MONKEYS

It’s been a miserable Monday morning so far - I think this day in January is called ‘Suicide Monday’, when everyone realises they have no money (or hope, or both) left.  I’ve been trying to come up with a new look for myself - something recognisable as Hornbrook Manor Farm.  It costs a lot to commission someone to come up with a logo, or look, so I’ve been doing what I always do and doing it myself (which also explains why my home-made website is so slow and quirky).  I call it the infinite monkey game (you know - where there's an infinite number of monkeys, all typing  infinitely away and eventually one of them will produce the works of Shakespeare), except that I’m the only monkey and not infinite, but I am prepared to bash away at something that I have no idea how to do, until it’s just about acceptable.  Or not ...  I’ll keep bashing.

WINTER SUN BATHING

The chickens are normally locked up these days, as they can’t be trusted not to make a beeline for the veg patch.  The foxes also seem to get extra hungry at this time of the year and even grabbed a one from under our noses last year, but if I’m out in the garden for a while in the afternoon I let them out.  Hens love to bathe in dust and the ground is too soggy everywhere at the moment to make dust.  Everywhere except one place - under the conifers at the edge of the garden.  Don’t ever try to grow anything near the base of a line of conifers - when we’re knee deep in mud here, it will always be a dust bowl - even the most tenacious weeds don’t bother trying to grow under its shadow.  But it is hen bath heaven there and although they make a huge mess fluffing out earth all over the place, it makes me smile.  You can just tell that they really love it.

UNDERMINED

                                

Sometimes I can see the claws of the mole, busily piling up its latest hill and occasionally I’ve seen its whiskery pink-tipped nose poking out, but mainly we just see where it’s been - and it’s been EVERYWHERE.  I might collect up the earth from the hills, as it makes wonderful ready sifted potting compost, but it is also making a complete mess of every patch of grass in the vicinity.  Apparently they only tunnel madly  when they’re trying to impress the opposite sex - creating palatial mole abodes beneath our feet n the hope of luring lady moles. It’s probably just as well that they're rather shy, as I’m going off the little beasts...

                                

I have been late in my seed sorting this season.  Normally I sift through my packets and make my list between Christmas and the New Year.  There are quite a few things that we can start thinking about sowing soon - under cover in a heated greenhouse, or on the windowsill as it’s still much too cold to sow directly into the garden.  Light levels are increasing, but  not quite enough yet.  If you have any packets of seeds left from last year, they should still be viable.  Most seeds last longer than the sell-by date on the packet, the exception being carrots and parsnips, which are best sown fresh each year.