Eat, Sleep, Retrieve, Repeat

Posted on November 19, 2016 by midlifegardener
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Gathering the leaves – and possibly the walnuts

Ella is a retriever / lab cross.  There’s probably a posh name for this – like a labtrine or something.  I guess someone somewhere has already thought of crossing the shitsu with a poodle (how much for a shitapoo?) but the key feature of our dog’s genetic inheritance is an overweening desire to bring back anything that is dead.  Like rigor mortis rabbits (with which she nearly took Mrs B off at the knees the other day) or pigeons that have been half eaten by sparrowhawks. But she will also attempt to retrieve stuff which has not actually been shot or died of starvation.

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One pheasant – dead or only resting?

Autumn around these parts brings out the birds and beasts that are trying desperately to fatten up for the winter months.  The pheasant is one such bird trying to fatten up for winter though it has not idea that all it has been successively bred for is to be shot by posh boys in tweed before being collected by their soft-mouthed coated canine companions.  It might explain why they have the aerial ability an early Wright Brothers prototype, making them tempting bait for anything that will chase – thus cutting out the gun-toting middle man.  The other morning our over-keen gun dog disappeared down the lane after a pheasant.  It seems the bird’s idea to try to out-run the labrador failed as two minutes later – much to Mrs B’s dismay – the dog returned with bird in mouth (is that worth two in the bush?) and placed it Mrs B’s feet.

However, as Mrs B tried to move the corpse out of the road, the pheasant jumped up and ran into the ditch.  Miracle?  Maybe.  The chances are that the Lazarus-like recovery of the bird was just the “headless chicken” response of a bird that was pretty much dead.  But Mrs B retains the notion that the pheasant is still out there wandering the hedges and ditches.  Aaaah.

Elsewhere Ella has less success chasing the squirrels that pilfer the walnuts.  Looking from the Labrador’s eye view, how hard can it be?  Squirrels are small, slow-moving, can’t fly, and appear to be such easy targets to chase down and destroy.  And yet…..   Ella spends many a long hour gazing into the branches working out how she can climb the tree to snag the rat.  Fudge did climb the tree once – having chased a squirrel at such pace towards the walnut she actually ran up the trunk almost to the bottom branches ten feet up before, like Wile E Coyote, she noticed gravity was about to take effect.  It was long way down.

The constant chasing is symptomatic of the turf war between dogs and squirrels over who owns the walnuts.  Ella retrieves them (naturally) and it is a subtle observation game to tell when the lab has a nut in her mouth.  But Fudge has taught her how to crack them open and eat them.  So seeing the squirrels tucking into them will only annoy the territorially jealous dogs.

Elsewhere Ella employs her jumping skills indoors as aprt of the self-appointed dance police.  She won’t allow any dancing at any time and attacks any offenders.  On he whole she is a very quiet dog and the only time she barks is in her sleep.  A Fat Boy Slim gig (which we went to at Pilton Party in September) would be her worst nightmare, but I suspect what really makes her howl in her sleep are those pesky squirrel varmint.

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Light Bulb Moments

Posted on November 2, 2016 by midlifegardener

161031-2We didn’t manage to get away for half term this year as my school once again made me an offer I could not refuse and I instead found myself organising and leading a half term hockey camp for a visiting prep school.  But rather than dwell on the places I could have gone, I was able to appreciate how lucky we are to live where we do.  And at this time of year, with this sort of weather, Somerset is not a bad place to be.

Some see autumn as a  depressing season, but I have always enjoyed it.  When I was younger this was probably because I could look forward to my birthday but, with advancing years, somehow a birthday is not the harbinger of good tidings like it used to be.  Instead I enjoy autumn for the glorious colours of the trees, for the incoming migratory birds and for days like today, which presented the opportunity to be out on such a gloriously sunny November morning.

After taking the dogs for a walk the main order of the day was more planting.  This year we are going large (super size perhaps) on bulbs.  Over the last couple of days I have planted 200 tulips as well as an indeterminate number of ranunculus.   I planted a load of the latter in tubs last winter and although I did get a good number of blooms I think I could have done better by giving them more space – as well as feeding them more often.  So this year I am hedging my bets: some in pots, some in the greenhouse and some in the cutting patch.

The tulips have gone in what was the lily pond – now renamed the tulip bed and reshaped to fit the theme.  But again I am not putting all my eggs in one basket or bulbs in one bed, and have planted some in the cutting patch too. All of this would have been a lot harder if Mrs B had not invested in a bulb planter – a tool I had not come across before, but which I will never be without from now on.  In making a hole for the bulb, the planter takes what looks like a core sample of soil which ultimately is deposited on the ground.  After while your bed is covered in bore holes and the detritus from a pig’s latrine.  But it works for me as I happily plop a bulb in each hole and then cover it up (did that sound right?!)

If all goes well we will have a good number of blooms to sell come May next year.

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End of Term report

Posted on October 30, 2016 by midlifegardener
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Sunflower in the cutting patch

It’s that time of the year again when the evening chill sharpens, the leaves start to turn and we spend a fruitless Sunday morning trying to purchase Glastonbury tickets.  And it has been months since I delivered any sort of news on this blog.

Some acquaintances cannot understand the reasons for writing the rubbish I do on this page, but I find a certain sense of unburdening happening when I write.  Essentially this is no more than an open diary – in which I record what I am doing in the garden, as well as describing the antics of dogs and other companions as they illuminate my life.  If people want to read it, so be it, but having a readership of sorts does give me another reason to do it.  So as each year wheels around into another I am able to look back and build on my experiences to ensure that the next garden season will be better than the last.

So what has gone well this summer and what lessons have I learnt in the last couple of months?

My peas and beans were excellent, albeit briefly.  Next year I am promising myself I will really get the hang of succession planting.  A fortnight’s glut is not the sensible way to harvest these things.

The winter leeks were left too long and ultimately ended up like a small petrified forest with the texture of fossilised wood.  But the pigs seemed to appreciate them as they munched their way through the lot.

Elsewhere the purple sprouting, cabbages and brussels look absolutely fabulous, which is because of this year’s other wonder crop.  I had read about nasturtiums as a “sacrificial” plant to keep the cabbage white butterflies off the Brassicas and I could not believe the effect that they had.  While the nasturtiums were being lacerated, the cabbages, PSB and brussels went unscathed.  If I had been trying to cultivate a good crop of nasturtiums I might have been peeved at the shredding of the leaves, but there were still enough flowers to adorn the regular green salads – which were another success this year (an area in which I did manage to achieve some sort of succession, with salad still flourishing in greenhouse and garden).

Experience has helped me grow a good batch of onions – where the return of the Red Barron brought a good crop, that is storing well too.  The same goes for garlic – with enough to see us through the next year – and shallots, which I have not only harvested, but have also learnt to use in cookery to good effect, and not be too precious with them.

The decision to plant early or late came under scrutiny once again this year. The OM would warn against being too preciptate with my planting (“Too early for runner beans”) and – weirdly – this year there seemed some truth in his seemingly inflexible ways with regard to the tomatoes.  The early Shirley plants suffered from the extremities of cold nights and warm days and never recovered while the later Sweet Millions were excellent and we will still have a few more to harvest this week before they finally succumb to the colder nights and shorter days.  (Mrs B’s pressure to plant early tomatoes to keep up with our horticultural neghbours should, perhaps, be resisted).  The beans all did well but are another which could do with a second crop of late planters

The cutting patch for flowers proved to be abundant this year and next season, with a decent marketing strategy, we might actually sell jam jar posies and other bunches of proper British Flowers.

More recently I harvested the squashes which were a mixued bunch – but again, probably enough to see us through the winter with plenty of heart soups!  But teh stand out crop of the moment are the chillis which are still growing adn ripening in the greenhouse in abundance.

So next season will be so much better, but like a really good round of golf  it is never perfect. We will continue to practice and strive for perfection.

Red Barron Onions
Garlic
Shallots
Small crop of squashes
Pigs consuming greenery
Chillis: Hungarian Hot Wax, Bolivian Rainbow and Joe’s Super Long

 

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Keeping it clean

Posted on August 10, 2016 by midlifegardener
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Athlete at rest

The Olympics have been dogged with stories of consumption of illicit substances and the availability or otherwise of athletes for drug testing.  I ponder this as I take a time trial trip around the garden with my fine athletic colleagues Ella and Fudge:  two canine athletes with distinctly differing body types and particular specialisms in athletic endeavour.  The older more experienced Fudge, with a lighter body for  exceptional agility and short sprinting speed is more of a gymnast with a strength on the floor exercises (though she prefers a bed).  The younger more heavily built Ella, whose brilliance at jumping onto a sofa is not matched by any ability to jump the same height into the back of a car,  is more geared towards to the water events, or ball sports.  She practices her ball skills around the garden, but she has a poor disciplinary record and repeatedly steps outside the competition area and into the flower beds resulting in constant warnings from officials.

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Full of beans?

To maintain their high levels of competitive activity, the dogs’ refuellng requires almost unbroken monitoring by the authorities.  Even though they are able to take in correctly prescribed amounts of pre-prepared, nutritionally well-balanced dry food twice a day, the dogs are always on the look out for any extra supplement to give them that competitive edge.  Rabbit droppings on the lawn are a favourite during competition, while the appearance of some recently picked beans by the front door proved too much of a temptation for Fudge.

Beyond the main Olympic Park, out in the counry the discovery of recently muck-spread fields provided the type of extra food stuff that is just so good you not only want to ingest it but smother your whole body with it.  So this morning both dogs got good cold showers after their walk.

Such behaviour flirts with illegality, but the bigger concern is Fudge’s failure to be present for testing.  The other night, when let out for her final chance to provde a urine sample before lights out, she simply failed to return.  As this is the third time in a year she has failed to be where she was supposed to be, she will have to accept the punishment that the is prescribed under the rules: namely the string of shame.  It is not the first (nor will it be the last) time she has fallen foul of the Whereabouts Rule, but like a Russian swimmer she remains unreprentent complaining of some big Labrador conspiracy to get her ejected from the side of the table.

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Currant affairs

Posted on August 10, 2016 by midlifegardener
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Blueberries & Raspberries

At the start of July we took a hard-earned break in the sun. Prior to our departure the red currants and black currants were just ripening up into what was promising to be a bumper harvest. With black membrane underneath the plants in the spring, they had not become overgrown with bind weed and nettles as in previous years and they were looking marvellous.  Not that red currants are a crop that I have ever felt any great joy in harvesting. When we were young all I remember them really being used for was an occasional summer pudding and copious jars of currant jelly. The kitchen store cupboard became a currant jelly connoisseur’s dream destination.

“What? you still have a case of the vintage ’78?”

“Yes we do – It’s still spreading well and has a lighter body and better bouquet than the otherwise equally fine ’82, with top notes of raspberry and new-mown grass on the finish”.

Yes – my parents went in for their currants in a big way.  So when we returned from holiday this year to discover that the birds had stripped every bush, I felt mixed emotions.   I was primarily relieved that I would not have to pick them, but also slightly guilty that I had not netted them and just a little awkward about how I would break the news to the Old Man.

As it turned out he broached the subject himself by telling me that he thought the currants “must be ready for picking soon”.

“No need” I replied, “the birds have already done the job for us”.  And what a job:  there was not a single currant of any denomination left on any bush.   Fortunately he did not seem too upset.  I suspect his jelly and jam-making days are over and there is only so much room in the freezer for bags of currants.

But with another holiday looming (we teachers have to squeeze our foreign trips in when we can) I realise the raspberries are just coming to fruition and I definitely do not want the blackbirds having them.  So I’ve erected the remains of last year’s wind-tossed gazebo with some new bird-proof netting so we might enjoy our raspberries properly.  The blueberries in the meantime have been happily ripening in their netted tent pole rig.

But I won’t be making any jam any time soon.

Raspberries
Blueberries
No Currants
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When the Living is Easy

Posted on August 1, 2016 by midlifegardener
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Veg Box: Peas, Courgettes, Potatoes, Black Kale, Radishes and Lettuce

The garden is in full swing giving up its gifts after the spring preparations and planting. In the past few weeks I have harvested garlic, shallots and onions.  While I see this as a continuation of what has been done in this patch for decades, I take some smug satisfaction from the fact that all three of these vegetables are crops with which I seem to have far more success than the Old the Man did in his day. He tells me that they never managed to get good hard onions which would store well and the garlic he tried only produced small bulbs of poor quality.

If this were a proper gardening bliog and I a proper gardener, this is where I would offer advice and some insight into my secrets for producing great crops.  Perhaps it is the spacing, the type of compost I use, or the thoroughness of my hoeing techniques. Maybe I make sure I harvest them only after three successive days of temperatures above 20 degrees and humidity below 50 per cent or maybe it’s how I dry them in a clean pine shed laid on galvanized steel netting three and a half inches off the floor.

But no – like most of my gardening exploits it is down to Google, hunch, and plain dumb luck. But it is always refreshing to hear TOM giving me praise on what I do and describing my efforts as superior to his. I don’t tire of receiving such accolades:  giving praise face to face to his off-spring is a habit which has taken him many decades to develop.  I will accept it with modesty and try to avoid the vanity and swell-headedness that it was assumed would inevitably follow any paternal approbation.

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Sweet Memories

Posted on July 22, 2016 by midlifegardener

20160717_184916Sweet peas are as good a reason to garden as any.  Their ease of cultivation along with the sheer abundance of flowers with their heady aroma make them the signature flower of any summer around here.

And they are a particular favourite of mine because they have always been associated with my mother who grew them every year in profusion.  Since she passed away we celebrate the first sweet pea of the summer with a small toast to mum as it will always, without fail, be blooming on 10th July – her birthday.  It is this connection with the past and with those whose passion helped create this garden which motivates me to continue.  I’ve said before how gardening gives me peace of mind and time to reflect and brings me closer to the memory of those no longer with us.

This summer we have another person to remember as we plant, weed and harvest.  Lynn finally succumbed to cancer in May, leaving the bookshop in Mrs B’s hands to continue in her name, but also leaving a wealth of anecdotes and fond memories of a lovely person who adored her garden (and allotment) as well as being delighted to help others.

When Mrs B was undergoing her course of chemo, it was Lynn who took it upon herself to come and clean the greenhouse (probably to a higher standard than she would have cleaned her kitchen).   When we started to cultivate the veg patch Lynn was always keen to pass on any plant that needed re-homing.  In that first spring she kindly planted some garlic and raspberry canes at one end of the veg patch.  I was never sure where the garlic was as Lynn was never great at labelling things.  But the raspberries continue to battle on alongside the gooseberries.  The thriving blue irises were conveyed to us by Lynn and latterly a large clump of white Asters will remind us once again of Lynn’s generosity when they bloom in a couple of weeks.

It is heartwarming that different plants can remind us of the good people and the good times. Not so much a garden of remembrance as plants of remembrance. The only small problem we might have created for ourselves this year is that the first sweet pea – incredibly for us – bloomed on 27th May: the day of  Lynn’s funeral.  The significance was not lost on us, so it looks like the annual celebration of the First Sweet Pea might have to be brought forward a month and a half from now on.

But sweet peas will always remind us of both Lynn and my mother..

 

 

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Of Mice and Moles

Posted on May 31, 2016 by midlifegardener

160504 (3)The sun lay on the grass and warmed it.  And across the expanse of green the midlife gardener looked and saw the soft volcanic shaped mounds of light brown earth stretching before him.  The moles had been working hard over the past week, striving to excavate their tunnels under the lawn and pushing the soil from the darkness to the harsh sunlight above.

The man walked wearily over the once lush lawn as he looked for the old rusted shovel and the wheel barrow into which he would clear the mole hills.  Ants worked the soil too, on the edge of the borders, where more mole casts converged with the flower beds and grass and the once crisply cut border edge was now covered in the extruded soil, spilling like an over-filled tub.  And the man sighed as he saw the damage done to his flowers which were wilting with the lack of soil around their roots and the dust swirled in eddies between the yellowed stalks.

The cold spring had been preceded by a mild winter and the mammals of the garden had – like the slugs and snails – survived the dark nights and short days in greater numbers than previously and they were now reeking damage on so much of what had previously been well-managed vegetable plots.  The mice had laid waste to the peas and beans and broccoli seedlings that the midlifegardener had sown weeks before.  And as the cold spring had given way to the long early summer days that bore intimations of drought and global warming in the time to come, the man had taken action to combat the ravages of the mice.  For four days straight his traps had been successful and this morning as he walked though the kohl rabi patch towards the newly planted cabbages and broccoli and brussels he pondered what he might find.

It was with mixed emotions he looked down to see another mouse caught, dead, in the jaws of the plastic trap.  He rigged some protection for the young plants, fashioned from the timber window frames from the old house, with ancient sheets of glass – unequal in thickness due to the slow flow over time.  He wanted to avoid the need to trap more rodents.  It had worked in previous years – but would it work in this changing, unpredictable world?  Only time would tell.

He picked up the shovel and went back to the lawn.

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Warming Up

Posted on May 8, 2016 by midlifegardener
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New Camellia and mole hills

Finally the cold weather has relented and it suddenly feels like summer might be about to happen. It’s the time of year when I personally get constantly challenged over where I have just come back from holiday. Answer: nowhere. I have naturally tanning skin and spend a lot of my time outdoors in the garden or shouting at school children in PE lessons. Others have suggested I might have some sort of Mediterranean genealogical predecessors.  Who knows.

It is also the time of year when stuff really starts to happen, with the perennials in the border suddenly getting going (I think they might have been growing for a while – I just did not notice the Echinacea as the rabbits kept grazing them back to the bare earth. I little chicken wire around them has worked wonders).

I’ve planted a camellia that the OM randomly produced from some mail order or other and I’ve had to earth up the potatoes as well.  In the background of the camellia picture you can see the moles are enjoying the sun as well…

But many plants are taking some time to get over the cold weather. The sweet peas might have been terminally affected by the frosts and the extreme temperature range in the greenhouse meant the tomatoes looked as if they had blight. They have survived but are struggling to regain their good looks and start growing properly.  And the melons, to coin some schoolboy humour, have gone from up and coming 34B’s to something akin to sagging, flaccid aged A cups.  No amount of surgery is going to help them, I suspect.

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Country Wedding Flowers

Posted on May 7, 2016 by midlifegardener

Bank holiday weekend and the weather remained resolutely chilly with hail showers carried on brisk northerly wind. But warmth was provided for us with the wedding of Steve and Les’s eldest daughter, Sara. The whole day was wonderful right from the entry of the bride to the church, and the subsequent exit (accompaniment: “Everybody needs somebody” from the Blues Brothers), to the reception which had the best food we have tasted at a wedding followed by some fine country dancing (I was particularly proud of my Gay Gordon) and a classic wedding disco.  No one fell out, no one fell over and everyone had a great time.

We were chuffed to be invited and even more pleased to be able to contribute to the day by providing the table decorations for the reception.  A combination of bluebells, forget-me-not and garden greenery worked well.  Even that was a group effort in which bride, friends, mother of bride and even the groom helped make the bouquets.  Of course Mrs B knew exactly which ones she had composed and which ones the groom or my good self had thrown together, but as a set of three jam jar posies to a table the results were pretty satisfying.

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