The Grumps

Tags

Crocus 'Cream Beauty', forcing bulbs, slug damage, The Cut Flower Patch

It’s raining again

I’m grumpy. I am sat here at my desk writing, with the rain and wind lashing against the window, wondering if this weather will ever stop. I can’t remember the last time I saw sunshine. It has been the wettest January for a hundred years in parts of the south. No mention of how Wales has fared yet but if someone tries to tell me there has been a wetter January …. well it just can’t be possible. A simple 5 minute walk to the post office or to pick some vegetables from the plot requires head to toe waterproofing and I am sick of looking like a trawlerman every time I need to leave the house. I’m even fed up of having to wear my beloved wellies. I’m not just grumpy with the weather I’m grumpy with myself for constantly banging on about the weather. As I commented to Flighty the other day, I’ve started to bore myself.

My muppet-like crocus

Back in the autumn I planted up a variety of bulbs for indoors. The narcissi, hippeastrum and hyacinths have all been and gone now but I planted up some crocus too. I love crocuses and their cheery flowers but hate the fact that they seem so easily damaged by the weather. I have found the best compromise is to fill some small clay pots with bulbs, put these in the greenhouse and when there are signs of greenery bring them indoors. They flower a little earlier with the extra protection, last so much longer,and I get to enjoy their flowers from the warmth of my kitchen. Well, that is if you get to them before the slugs do. Slugs in January, now that just made me even grumpier. The distinctive silvery trail ran across the top of the pots and the crocus stumps they had left behind. I’ve also discovered this odd phenomenon where some of the petals seem to have not developed properly but the distinctive orange stamens have poked out. It makes them look like mini versions of Beaker from the Muppets. Has anyone noticed this before? It doesn’t look as if I can attribute the blame for this to the slugs. Fortunately, some of the pots were untouched and I now have the flowers of Crocus ‘Cream Beauty’ appearing unscathed, so all is not lost and it looks like ‘Snow Bunting’ and some of the ‘Barr’s Purple’ have survived too. A couple of crocus in the garden have reared their heads but they really shouldn’t have bothered as they look forlorn and mud splattered at the moment.

Crocus ‘Cream Beauty’

The real delight of bringing plants like crocuses indoors is that you get to look at them close up. It’s hard to get close to something that might only be 10cm tall when it’s growing in the garden. In a pot on my window sill I can see the delicate markings on the petals but best of all I have discovered that crocus have a scent. You need to get right into the flower to catch a whiff of the perfume but it’s worth it. It isn’t a scent which permeates a room, which is a pity, but every time I pass by, I stop to have a sniff, and it’s enough to lift the spirits.

Some plants in the garden haven’t escaped winter slug damage. The flowers of snowdrops have been nibbled too, as have some primroses. It all makes me wonder about climate change and gardening. In 2012, we had no summer to speak of. Instead we had grey skies, cold days and lots of rain. Last year we had no real spring with cold days lingering on well into June. I remember vividly that first week in July felt as if we went from winter to summer. My memory of this is so good because I needed an extension on the deadline for my photographs for the book I was writing. It’s hard to conjure up summer when you haven’t had one yet. And, so far, we are yet to have a winter. No real frost, no snow and interminable amounts of rain. I’m wondering what 2014 and beyond are going to bring. Will we ever get to garden this year or should we start to farm cranberries?

The Cut Flower Patch

As well as the appearance of the crocuses something else which managed to lighten my mood was the arrival of an advance copy of my book. A small number of books arrived just after Christmas, ready to go out as review copies to newspapers and magazines. The rest will arrive in the coming weeks, closer to the date of publication. I knew the book was on the way, so when I saw a parcel in the postman’s hand and the label of my publisher on the envelope I got a little excited. I know it might seem a little odd that I sound surprised I got excited about it, but I am. I have seen the images and text so much over the course of the last year that I feel like I know them inside out, so I did wonder whether it would be a bit of a let down when the book finally arrived. I’m pleased to say that wasn’t the case, and to see it all together, as a finished product, did make me grin in a slightly inane manner for quite a while. Wellyman, bless him is actually reading the book, even though he must feel like he knows it all inside out too.

It’s been quite cathartic to write about my grumpiness but I can’t put off the inevitable any longer. I have kale to pick and it appears to still be raining so where are those waterproofs…..

Kale and hearty

Tags

club root, kale, Russian red kale, spanokopitta

Red Russian Kale

Kale has been one of those vegetables that has had a bit of an image problem in the past. Robust and super hardy plants, they have a certain don’t mess with me attitude about them and can cope with whatever the winter weather will through at them. I’ve been growing them since I took on my plot and they have stood unflinching through minus 15 degrees C, being buried under several feet of snow and this winter have coped with the deluge of rain deposited on them.

Popular in Britain as a crop for thousands of years, it’s thought they may have been introduced by the Romans. A rich source of vitamins and minerals kale, like its brassica cousin the cabbage, would have been an important part of the diet of our ancestors. There is an earthiness and sense of the peasant about kale and perhaps this is why it has proved unpopular in recent times. Competing with imported out of season tomatoes, aubergines and peppers, which bring a splash of the summer to our gloomy winters, is going to be a hard sell. Then there’s the taste, when you eat kale you know it’s good for you with its rich irony flavour. Palates used to blander tastes and imported vegetables are going to struggle with such a hale and hearty vegetable.

This is a pity though because kale is one of the easiest crops to grow and one of the most versatile in the kitchen. Curly kale is the classic variety, with cavolo nero being the most fashionable but my own favourite is Russian red Kale which I find to be sweeter than other kales. It must be up there as one of the prettiest vegetables, a must for any kitchen garden. Grey-green leaves with pink veins are an unusual and striking combo. And, as the light levels and temperatures drop the colours become more intense. The leaves are frilly and capture raindrops which glisten like droplets of molten silver. They look even better with a dusting of frost. Red Russian is one of the hardiest too, originating from Siberia.

Crimson stemmed red Russian kale

Brassicas are one of those crops which can break even the keenest and green fingered of gardeners. They seem to suffer from more than their fair share of pests and diseases. Club root, a fungal disease which causes the roots of brassicas to swell and the plants to become stunted can stay in the soil for over twenty years. No amount of crop rotation is going to eliminate this from your veg garden. Then there’s cabbage white butterflies whose caterpillars can strip a plant bare over night. If you’ve struggled with cabbages and are fed up with attempts to grow broccoli then you need to give red Russian kale a try. Club root is in the soil at my allotments but kale, and red Russian in particular, seems oblivious to this fact. Even the caterpillars of cabbage whites seem to show little interest. Perhaps this is because fellow allotment holders are kindly growing more appealing, and sacrificial, cabbages. White fly will take up residence but other than a plume of tiny winged creatures filling your kitchen they seem to be no problem for the plant itself.

The beauty of red Russian kale is you can have it pretty much all year round. You could sow throughout the year if you wanted baby leaves to use in salads and stir-frys. Sow in spring and you can crop from summer right through until the following spring or sow in late summer for plants which will go through the winter. Simply keep picking the leaves and they will go on producing. I find three or four plants are enough, as you never want to strip a plant bare, they do need some leaves to keep on growing. I always sow into modules or a seed tray and nurture young plants in my greenhouse or cold frame until they are big enough to go out onto the allotment. But I’m sure you could sow the seeds direct too, just make sure you protect the young seedlings from slugs.

Kales are becoming trendy again. We’re learning to embrace stronger flavours, we love the idea of super foods and are harking back to comfort foods and rustic cooking. Kale fits the bill perfectly. It’s getting easier to come by in supermarkets and farmer markets, particularly the curly and cavolo nero varieties but you’ll struggle to find red Russian. I’ve only seen it once in an organic shop in Hebden Bridge. I was so surprised I squealed ‘red Russian kale’, much to the consternation of the fellow customers. So if you’re going to grow one kale grow this one.

kale spanokopitta

As for what to do with it, well you can simply lightly steam it. It only takes a minute or two so don’t cook it into oblivion. You can add it to pasta sauces, frittatas and use it as a spinach substitute in dishes like spanokopitta. This is my own take on this Greek dish and is perfect in winter.

• Roast some butternut squash and red onion for about 30 minutes until soft.
• Steam a handful of kale.
• Mix these in a bowl with feta cheese, cashew nuts and hazelnuts.
• Season and then use as a filling, wrapping in sheets of oiled or buttered filo pastry.
• Bake in the oven for 20 minutes until golden and crispy.

Hooked

Tags

crochet, green manure, other use for garden twine

crocheted tea cosy

I know there’s always something I could be doing in the garden or on the allotment but the incessant rain since the start of December has meant that they have been no-go zones really. I always find the sight of a ‘bare to the bones’ allotment a bit too demoralising anyway. My own plot hasn’t fared too badly considering. I didn’t think it was possible to rain more than it did in 2012 but this has been the first time I have seen standing water on my plot. I fear for the tulips tucked up in the soil but there’s little I can do about it now. The green manure I sowed back in late summer and early autumn has made a real difference to how the soil has coped with the rain. Neighbouring plots look as if the soil has literally been pummelled, the rain has been so intense. Whereas the beds on my allotment, covered in phacelia, look as if they haven’t been touched. It’s just a pity I couldn’t cover more soil. One of the downsides to using green manures is needing bare soil to sow into at the right time for it to have time to germinate and put on enough growth. With such a mild autumn I still had flowers going into November. By the time I pulled them out it was too late to sow.

Gardening does take up such an enormous amount of my time during the year that it leaves a fairly large void when winter comes round. So what does a gardener do when they can’t garden, when it’s cold and wet outside and nothing is growing? For me the winter break gives me the chance to get crafty. Crochet is the craft of choice at the moment. It’s perfect for whiling away the long dark nights sat in front of the fire.

I have dabbled with a crochet hook in the past. I made a hat for Wellyman one Christmas, although I massively underestimated the time it would take to make it. I got there with hours to spare but developed a touch of repetitive strain injury in the process. Perhaps this is why I took a break and put the wool to one side. But this autumn I returned to it again and I’m completely addicted.

Vintage sewing box

The pile of crochet books are building up by my bedside table and I’ve acquired quite a stash of wool. And I was over the moon last weekend when I was given a beautiful sewing box by my in-laws. I had been on the lookout for one for a while and planned a visit to a flea market in the new year to track one down. Instead I am now the proud owner of the one which belonged to Wellyman’s grandma, and that family connection makes it all the more special. I love the functionality of the design and its simple Shaker-style beauty.

flowery brooch

It turns out though that even when I crochet gardening and plants aren’t that far from my mind. This flower brooch was a Christmas present for my mum. And the colours I used for my tea cosy were inspired by the a drive we did several years ago, in Ireland. We found ourselves passing through a place called Sally Gap not far from Dublin. The scenery was stunning with dark, rich green moorland and pink, purpley tones of heather.

crocheted garden twine coaster

I’ve even found that garden twine makes a very interesting material with which to crochet. It’s much harder to work with than wool because the fibre is tougher but the texture the jute gives to projects is fantastic. It’s more robust than wool too which makes it perfect for table mats and coasters.

Strangely there is little recorded history about crochet. It became popular in the 19th century from Britain to Africa and across to Asia but, prior to this, there is nothing to suggest the origins of using one hook and a thread to create a fabric. Knitting however can be traced back to the early medieval period. Every time I make something I find it incredible that simply by using one hook and a material it is possible to create so many different patterns and designs. I have lots of plans; an old duvet cover is to be cut up and crocheted to make a bath mat, there are cushion covers to make, a blanket to finish. The nights are getting a little lighter and the first of the seed orders has been made. So as the garden starts to make it demands I guess there’ll be less time to crochet in the coming months, but that’s fine, as I’m itching to get my hands into the soil again.

I’d love to hear about what you do during the winter gardening hibernation.

Winter blooms

Tags

forcing bulbs indoors, Hippeastrum 'Royal Velvet', Hyacinth 'L'Innocence', Narcissi 'Grande Soleil d'Or', Narcissi 'Paper White'

Hyacinth ‘L’Innocence’

My regular readers will know I approach January with a certain degree of trepidation. It’s much easier to feel positive and optimistic when there are twinkly Christmas lights to brighten the short, dark days of winter. Mince pies and mulled cider help too. Then January arrives, the Christmas decorations come down, there’s the metaphorical tightening of belts as we recover from seasonal expenditure and the physical loosening of belts to cope with all that festive food. The sense of anticipation which accompanies the Winter Solstice ebbs away as I’m still scrabbling away in the dark when I get up on a morning.

Something that has made a difference for me this winter has been the decision to grow indoor bulbs. This has been the first time I have managed to get my act together, remembering to not focus purely on spring and the outdoors when I ordered my bulbs back in the autumn. On the list were hyacinths, Narcissi ‘Paper White’ and ‘Grande Soleil d’Or’ and Hippeastrum ‘Red Velvet’. I was a bit dubious about whether I would like them or not so I stuck a tentative toe in the water and I didn’t go mad with the order.

My reluctance partly stemmed from my dislike of probably the most popular of all bulbs to force, the hyacinth. They have always seemed funny plants to me. With their short stumpy stalks and fat stubby trumpet flowers they just look a little odd, particularly when they’re grown directly in the ground. Perhaps if the flowers were more delicate or their stems longer, but as they are they have never done it for me. If Narcissi ‘Paper Whites’ are the Kate Moss of the bulb world, all willowy and sylphlike, then hyacinths have always seemed, to me, like a Les Dawson character, solid and stocky. Then there’s their famous scent. Potent is how I remembered it. My mum used to grow them, and with several on one windowsill I remember them being so overwhelming that a particular room was off-limits whilst they were in bloom. But browsing through the bulb catalogue back in August I thought I should give them another go. And I’m rather pleased I did because I have several in flower now brightening up the January gloom and filling my house with a delightful perfume. My selection of variety may have something to do with my new-found love of hyacinths. I picked the white flowering ‘L’Innocence’ which not only looks more stylish and modern than some but it also seems a little more delicate and a little less dumpy. As for the scent, it isn’t overpowering at all, and with the very occasional patch of sunshine or heat from the radiators warming the air the aroma is wafting through the house. So for bulbs indoors I’m won over but I remain to be convinced by them as additions to my borders.

Narcissi ‘Paper White’

The hyacinths weren’t the first of the bulbs to flower with the Narcissi ‘Paper White’ timing their opening for my birthday in November. They are the most delicate of flowers with a sparkly sheen to their purest of white petals. They are also one of the most perfumed of narcissi. The jury is still out on whether I like their scent or not. Occasionally I would wander into the kitchen and sniff the air and then start looking around for the offending aroma, checking the soles of shoes, emptying the bin etc, only then would I realise it was the narcissi. I have heard it likened to the whiff of cat wee before. But then there would be other times when it would smell completely different and quite beautiful. I’ll grow them again because they are so easy and home-grown flowers for a November birthday are too good to ignore.

Hippeastrum ‘Royal Velvet’

The winter blooms continued with my hippeastrum. Its huge bulb took a while to get going but then I dug out my heated propagator and sat the pot on the base of this. It wasn’t long before a green stalk emerged. It kept on growing and growing in a triffid-like manner. When it reached nearly 3ft it started to show signs of a flower bud. Slowly, four individual trumpet-shaped flowers appeared with them finally opening on Boxing Day. The variety ‘Red Velvet’ couldn’t have been better named or more suited to the Christmas period with its luscious and humongous flowers. It was fascinating to watch it grow because I had never tried it before, and there’s nothing like rekindling that child-like wonder by cultivating something new. I might look to see if there are any smaller varieties though as it’s tall and increasingly leaning flower stalk have given some cause for concern.

In the greenhouse I have a large pot of Narcissi ‘Grande Soleil d’Or’ and some crocus waiting to be brought indoors. The extra warmth inside will speed them into growth for an earlier show and keep up the succession of winter blooms. And, whilst I’m waiting for the days to lengthen and the weather to improve, my indoor flowers are providing some much-needed cheer.

A Happy New Year

2014 styling courtesy of Wellyman

2014 will be the year I sow when I’m meant to sow. My little plants won’t be ravaged by slugs. I will actually get round to planting some lilies in pots by my front door, after 7 years of saying I would but never actually doing it. I will ‘Chelsea Chop’ when Chelsea is on, rather than remembering in late June when the time has passed. In 2014 I will try not to sow too many seeds in my trays. I will then attempt to be ruthless when thinning and potting on. I will endeavour to put seed labels back in their home in the greenhouse rather than festoon them in a multitude of places. This will avoid the ‘hunt the plant label’ diversion which turns a relaxing afternoon pottering into a frustrating few hours with little to show for my effort. I will clean and sharpen my secateurs and flower snips after use, rather than waiting until they wouldn’t cut through jelly. But, most of all I will learn to accept that gardening isn’t about rules and perfection, it’s about fun and love and fresh air and butterflies. It’s about squeakily-fresh French beans, the sweetest of podded peas, sun warmed strawberries and buckets full of flowers. And if I don’t manage to keep any of my gardening resolutions then it doesn’t matter . . . Well, apart from the lilies one, because I REALLY do want to grow lilies this year.

Wishing you all a ‘Happy New Year’. I hope 2014 is a wonderful year for you all. Happy gardening! WW x