9 barrows down, 91 to go

It rained yesterday-not too much, but enough to send us shopping for birthday presents instead of digging. I made up today, when the sun came out most pleasingly, and I was aided and abetted by DH who is on holiday this week. At the end of a couple of hours labour, we are left with about 4 feet still to turn over-another session or 2 at most should do it. Yippee!

In the picture you can see 2 black plastic bin liners. They contain soot, left on the allotment by the local chimney sweep. (How Dickensian that sounds!) One of my allotment neighbours recommended it to reduce the slug population.

Traditionally soot was abundant and used for this purpose in gardening. I was a bit reluctant to turn down the offer but further research suggests that soot is not used now as it contains toxins harmful to plants ( as well as slugs) and possibly to the person using it. I will discretely dispose of it at the local recycling centre where they can deal with such things safely.

With 2 of us working, I was able to start on reducing the manure heap. 9 barrows have been transported and dug in. You can hardly see the dent I have made in the pile. As I was carting the offering from the cowsheds down to the plot in the wheelbarrow, I imagined next seasons new potatoes. The thought kept me going.

We aim to finish this week, weather permitting, but are away now for a couple of days in Devon. See you on Thursday.

Allotment update-Thursday October 25th

Betula jacquemontii, Himalayan white barked birch

Since I last posted about the allotment, we have made terrific progress reclaiming it from the neglect of the last two years. The undug strip now measures 8 feet, meaning that we are within strike of completing the heavy digging. Hooray. But of course, that is only the start really.

We have taken delivery of a pile of cow manure the size of a small car, and the next job is to move it from the dump site by the gate of the allotments to our plot. There are about 5 plots on the whole site where the tractor and trailer cannot dump the stuff straight onto the plot. And yes, you guessed, ours is one of them. One of my optimistic neighbours estimated there were at least 100 barrow loads to move....

On the upside, I have planted 8 raspberry canes to supplement the strawberries, and both redcurrant and blackcurrant bushes. I'm on the lookout now for a pink gooseberry to add to the fruit collection.

On the vegetable front, I have sown a row of broad beans for an early -well May-crop next year. The variety is Aquadulce Claudia. I am wondering how well they will do, because as I prepared their seed bed, loads more couch grass roots came to the surface. I may well of course just be preparing a very fine site to grow couch instead of broad beans! I am removing the ones I see, but I reckon there are plenty more lurking down there, just waiting for the spring.

The weather looks as if the fine days are coming to an end, with rain forecast for the weekend.
Before long these beautiful Japanese maple leaves will fall but for the rest of the winter, we will be able to enjoy the beautiful white bark of the Himalayan birch.

The silvery stream

One of our favourite walks takes us on the ridge above the beautiful River Wye, down to the little town of Tintern with its ruined medieval Abbey, to the Cherry Tree Inn for lunch and back through farmland to our starting point.

On Sunday morning we left the tools behind, preferring a walk to this favourite place rather than more digging. The sun was glorious after a cool night and up on the top of Wyndcliffe (above) , south facing and sun drenched it felt warm. Down below, the Wye, tidal as you might be able to make out from the exposed mud at the sides, glides silkily through this soft landscape.

Above us some of the trees have already shed a large proportion of their leaves but others are still turning. The leaves of English trees habitually turn yellow or brown, rather than glorious shades of red as in other parts of the world.


Much of the first part of the walk is through the heavily wooded slopes above the river valley which is deeply incised here. This is ash and oak wood with some beech and birch, although just occasionally, where the ground is particularly rocky, there are yew trees, at this time of the year carrying their glowing crimson berries. Each berry contains a highly toxic seed. In fact all parts of the tree are toxic, containing cyanide, except the red part of the berry. Birds eat the berries, the seeds passing through them without harm to either bird or tree and thus aiding the dispersal of the trees.

Yews live to a great age. Some studies estimate from 2000 to 4000 years. They are certainly the longest lived of all European plants and have in the past been associated with sacred sites and of course, with the production of longbows with which English and Welsh archers were so deadly during the middle ages.


In Tintern we lunched at The Cherry Tree Inn, before concluding our walk through some beautiful farmland where pheasants clattered loudly as we approached, gliding to the ground after their noisy take off.

Much of the land was sown to winter brassicas of various kinds-kale, turnips etc. that offer good cover for the pheasants and rabbits we saw. We also came across this very unexpected combination for October- poppies cheerfully blooming as the opportunists they are amongst these turnips.

Another late butterfly

After a morning spent digging on the allotment, I returned home for a cup of coffee. I took it into the garden to enjoy the sun and sat on the bench to recover from my labours. The asters are still blooming, although they are showing signs of going over now, but they were proving to be very attractive to two late flying butterflies.

They are Red Admirals (Vanessa atalanta), a strong flying butterfly that frequently migrates from Europe, although they do overwinter in the UK too. They are relatively common although I haven't seen that many this year, so it was an added to bonus to have 2 of them in the garden today, both in beautiful, undamaged condition.

Sweet swan of Avon

Young cygnet, Mute swan, May 2006

The Wiltshire Avon flows through Chippenham on its way to the sea at the Bristol Channel. At Avonmouth, to be precise. In my town it is not particularly large and not especially impressive, but it is a pleasant stream, lined with willows in the manner of many English rivers. In the middle of town the river flows though a park where waterbirds make their home. There are coots and moorhens, as well as ducks, mostly of the mallard and mallard cross variety.

But the river is also home to a few mute swans that enjoy being fed by small children. Not on small children, you understand. The swans nest in the quieter reaches of the stream out of the town, whilst the coots regularly nest right by the bridge on the High street and seem not to mind an audience for their family life.

The resident swans are joined each autumn by overwintering birds who have no doubt heard about the goodly supply of bread and chips from passers by. Unlike humanity, this diet doesn't appear to have a fattening effect on the swans. I guess they are just supplementing their natural food when it is scarce, and return to swan food when they leave in Spring.

Last week I counted 7 swans on the river as I walked over the bridge, but today there were 23, a mixture of adults and this year's cygnets. The young are now as large as the adults, unlike the dinky little fellow above who was photographed at Abbotsbury in the Spring of last year, but they are still in their juvenile plumage of soft coffee and cream colours. They are called Mute swans, but the young today were quietly vocal, peeping gently to each other, like children in a library.

Mute Swans at Abbotsbury

As for the title of this post, Shakespeare has been referred to as the Sweet swan of Avon. But that's another river in another county. But there is a further link.
"Swan feathers played an incalculable role in England's cultural development. It was from them hardened in hot sand, that quill pens were cut. "

Autumn confusion

Autumn looks like this, yes? Of course it does. Lovely red tints on maple leaves, yellow birch leaves on the grass.

But what is going on here with my Viburnum plicatum Mariesii? It flowers in May. Gorgeous white tiers like a wedding cake. Beautiful plant. So here in mid October it is bearing autumn tinted leaves and blossom. Poor confused thing.

And here is a campanula in full flower with a pretty geranium cheerfully blooming through it. They were in flower in May too. But not in the summer. It is as if everything is having a second spring. I just hope it all adjusts soon and the winter doesn't kill off these out of season flowering plants which will be using up stored reserves.

Autumn jewel

Just had to post this picture. I spent some time in the sunshine tidying away the tomatoes this afternoon-they really have finished now, poor things. I hope next year will be a better one for tomatoes and all the other heat loving vegetables I am so fond of. I had finished shaking the compost over the vegetable garden and disposing of the plants in the bin-not composting these as they had blight-and had gone indoors to find a bowl for the fruit I had removed.

As I walked past the asters, I spotted this perfect butterfly, also enjoying the warmth. It is a comma, Polygonia c-album, so called because of a white mark on the underwing which looks a bit like a comma, but which you cannot see in this picture. It was a lovely shade of copper orange, and clashed beautifully with the lilac pink of the asters. Gorgeous.

Truro

Summer bedding plants outside Truro Cathedral this morning.

I make no apology for this not being a garden post today, but I have included a flower border above! I've never been to Truro in Cornwall before. Rob had a meeting there today, so I went along for the ride, camera ready and armed with the essential information that there was a fabric shop with around 11,000 different fabrics for sale.

It's a 3 hour journey from home-a little further than Cambridge is the other way from here. We drove over the central section of Dartmoor ( wet) and over Bodmin moor (grey and wet as usual), which meant the views were obliterated by low cloud and rain. It always surprises me how different Devon is from Cornwall, despite their proximity. Devon always seems greener and Cornwall greyer, but I'm prepared to be proved wrong, not wishing to upset any Cornishmen and women out there.

The most remarkable sight on the journey west was of the Willow Man, on the Somerset levels, a wondrous 12 metre high sculpture made of willow. We always admire him as we drive past but this morning he was adorned by a pair of kestrels, one on each arm. Alas, I did not get a picture, but the one below from this website will give you the idea.



Truro is a little city, by dint of possessing a Cathedral, but not by it's size. (Population 19,000.) It is the county town of Cornwall and once an important port and tin mining centre.
It's difficult to get a great picture of the Cathedral as the building surrounding it are up close and personal. But here's one, and there are others on the website linked above.

Part of the front of Truro Cathedral

I was attracted to the quayside where this boat has been pressed into use as a Florists shop, the entrance being via the gangplank, right of picture. Those baskets of autumn flowering cyclamen were lovely.

Florist shop boat

Florist shop boat, tide out on the Truro River.

But my attention had originally caught by the site of all of these pigeons rain bathing on the copper roof of a building. I can't quite work out how they are not sliding down!


The fabric shop, as advertised, had so many fabrics, I spent a heavenly 2 hours (yes, two!) browsing through them and the collection of ribbons, threads, beads, buttons, wool, haberdashery of all sorts. I showed terrific restraint in my purchases, sticking strictly to the colour scheme I am working with and buying only silks in small quantities. Oh-apart from 2 American cotton fabrics that were too delicious to leave behind. A picture may well appear on spinningyarns tomorrow.

Sunday digging

After another morning's digging yesterday, we have now turned over the soil on well over half of the allotment, as you can see above. I say "we", but Rob has done the lion's share of the heavy digging, and a very fine job he has made of it too. We intend to leave it rough dug over the winter so that the frost, hoping we get some, can help to break down the big clods and make spring cultivation easier.

We have taken delivery of an immense load of cow manure, straight from the cow shed, so that needs to rot down over the winter too before we can start to make use of it. I was going to post a picture, but decided that it really wasn't necessary!

Progress has been good since we took it on just 4 weeks ago, when it looked like this.

I put in the second row of strawberry plants, so there are now 20 in my new strawberry bed, and I have planted 2 rows of Japanese onions in, bought from the garden centre, which should overwinter well. We are trying to make the best of the weather whilst we are in this gentle spell of weather, because no doubt it will rain again soon, putting paid to some outdoor chores.

I spent this morning cutting grass at home and taking down the last of the French beans and their supporting canes, and this afternoon hope to turn my attention to doing something with the collage picture of the leaves and fruits and berries I made on Saturday.

October is marigold

October is marigold, and yet
A glass half full of wine left out

To the dark heaven all night, by dawn
Has dreamed a premonition

Of ice across its eye as if
The ice-age had begun its heave.

The lawn overtrodden and strewn
From the night before, and the whistling green

Shrubbery are doomed. Ice
Has got its spearhead into place.

First a skin, delicately here
Restraining a ripple from the air;

Soon plate and rivet on pond and brook;
Then tons of chain and massive lock

To hold rivers. Then, sound by sight
Will Mammoth and Sabre-tooth celebrate

Reunion while a fist of cold
Squeezes the fire at the core of the world,

Squeezes the fire at the core of the heart,
And now it is about to start.

- Ted Hughes, October Dawn

One of my favourite poems ever to accompany the leaves, fruit and berries I collected within a 10 minute walk of home. I particularly love the orange and pink spindle berries (Euonymus europaeus), the tree's wood being used for spindles in looms, for skewers and for knitting needles.

Next year, I hope, there will be more like this....

Home grown strawberry in the garden earlier this year.

I worked an extra shift this morning, fretting all the while as the sky cleared and the sun blazed down in full October gold. I so wanted to be outside, so as soon as I had finished I rushed home, grabbed a snack and went to the plot to create a strawberry bed.

I have been reading up on the best way to do this, but have gone with the advice from a neighbouring plot holder who has been raising vegetables on the site for 19 years and has two allotments.

" Don't worry about putting manure in now, just plant the runners and they can make some roots before the weather turns cold. You can feed them next spring." We have chosen the top of the plot, in full sunshine all day and where the soil was already cleared. I tilled it carefully with my wonderful three pronged cultivator tool and then raked it gently to level it. (I couldn't resist putting on just a scattering of pelleted chicken manure, to help those roots a little, but it was only a tiny quantity. Honest. )

Then very carefully, I removed some of the rooted strawberry runners from the parent plants that are fighting the couch grass at the other end of the plot, and planted them gently into their new bed. The soil was warm and moist. I took 10 runners from the existing bed, and at the weekend I am going to take 10 more from home and add those to the new bed too. It feels so good to be planting, and the day was an October gift.

When I returned home, I was inspired to look up the William Morris print, called the Strawberry Thief. It's a design I have always liked. I learned that it was designed by William Morris in 1883 with the birds drawn by Philip Webb . This design was inspired by the Morris family's attempts to grow strawberries at their home at Kelmscott, but being thwarted by thrushes who would creep under the netting to eat the berries. Morris insisted that the birds be left undisturbed. Now there's a man after my own heart.

The Strawberry Thief, a textile designed by William Morris in 1883

October harvest

It has been a wet autumn day for the start of October, not cold but sufficiently miserable for a vegetable curry to sound appealing for supper.

I had a collection of vegetables in the fridge including a sweet potato and an aubergine, as well as onions and red peppers, and was able to supplement the basics with these delights from the garden. The courgette, with its flower still attached is the variety Tromba d'Albenga. I have been so impressed by its performance this year. It was very slow to get started but now snakes across the garden for about 10 feet, climbing through other plants gaily as it goes. The fruits are indeed shaped like trumpets or trombones and are firmly textured. It will certainly earn a place on the allotment next year, having performed much better than the Green Bush and Goldrush varieties I grew.

The cucumbers hated the summer but have been fruiting on and off outside for some weeks. The one on the right of the board is destined to join some yoghurt in a raita I am making to go with the vegetable curry.

The tomatoes have produced some fruit after surviving an attach by tomato blight. I stripped off all the blighted foliage and when the weather turned drier and warmer in September, the plants put on some more growth and have managed a crop. Above there are the little cherry variety , Gardeners Delight and the stripy Tigerella. In flavour terms, the cherry tomatoes win every contest. Perhaps the Tigerellas would do better under glass.

I had left the last of the French beans on the plant to fatten up. I collected a few this afternoon and shelled them, ready to add towards the end of the curry cooking time. I guess these are now true haricot vert. I shall repeat the experiment next year and now need to find out how the dry them for winter use.