Drastically thinning the plums

Saturday 3rd June
Today I sowed the rest of my beans along with the sweetcorn, courgettes, pumpkins and celeriac. Finally virtually all of the veg beds have something in them.
I sowed more carrots and lettuce too as well as sowing my swede crop for the year.

With everything growing so well, the creeping thistles have poked their heads up in my young woodland and there are a couple of rather large patches which will get out of control if I do nothing about them. Don't get me wrong, thistles are great for wildlife and I even quite like how they look, but they are just too unruly. So I spent a half hour or so  mixing up the Grazon and spraying it liberally. The great thing about this weedkiller is that it doesn't kill the grass, it just takes out the broad-leaved plants, with a particular penchant for thistles and nettles. It's not organic so I wouldn't use it near the crops, but it is perfect used in the right place. Within 24 hours the plants will already be drooping.

Finally I got on the mower. When it works well it is great, but I have never been able to ride it in confidence. Today it broke again! I gave up.

Sunday 4th June
Job for the day was to thin the plums. Two of my trees have bumper crops this year - the Victoria plum and the Merryweather damson.
Tempting as it is to leave all the plums on the tree, the internet reassures me that this is not the best policy. The fruits need space to grow and they need air around them so they don't rot. Plum trees often suffer from branches breaking under the stress of a bumper crop of fruit - another reason to thin the young fruit. Thirdly, and I had not considered this, if the tree has put all its energies into a bumper crop of fruit it is unable to produce the fruiting buds for next year. This is why so often fruit trees go into the habit of cropping every other year.
And so I set about a drastic thinning process, leaving at most a third of the plums on each tree. It had better turn out well.








Monday 5th June
Following a dismal return from the 500 sweetcorn seeds I originally sowed, I ordered some extra seed from another company. Fortunately they were having an end of season sale, plus I receive a discount on top of this so I ended up paying less than 50% of the packet price.
But of course, while I was on their website, many other items caught my eye. In particular I discovered a good source of seed for my dyer's garden which I hope to develop next year. I also purchased some lablab beans. More on both of these later.

Tuesday 6th June
Boris needed his annual booster today so it was off to the vets over in Norfolk. Arthur came along for the trip too and I had a secret plan to take them both to the beach afterwards. But plans change. The weather was showery here, but by the time I had made the journey to Norfolk conditions were well and truly miserable. In the end we came straight back from the vets and had a lazy rest of the day.

Medlar Mash Up

We had another good harvest from our medlar tree this year. This is my favourite tree in the orchard with its spreading, gnarled branches bearing fantastic white blossoms in the spring followed by the most unusual fruits. In fact, I like the tree so much that I've planted another five, even though I don't really need them.

One of the great things about growing your own food is that you get to taste things which are just not available in the shops, medlars being an excellent example of this.

Medlars are probably most well known for the need to 'blet' them, which basically means letting them begin to rot. But this is not as disgusting as it sounds.
There are two choices here - either pick them early and store them until bletted or, what Sue and I do, let them blet on the tree. The weather has been a bit funny this year (isn't it every year?) and things have been slow to ripen. Quite a few crops just didn't quite make it before a decidedly damp November led to them rotting off.
So we held off on picking the medlars. Other things got in the way too. Last year I'm pretty sure the leaves were still on the tree when we picked them, but this year the leaves have well and truly gone.
This last weekend I noticed that the fruits were much thinner and on closer inspection most of them had fallen onto the ground. There they lay on the leaf litter, nicely bletted.

Basically each medlar fruit looks like a giant brown rosehip, each containing seven stones. What's not stone is a spicy, aromatic, peary, apply mush. That's the best way I can describe it.
I collected just over 100 fruits from the tree and more than 300 from the ground. I left some windfalls for the birds and insects.
In all they weighed 10.2kg.

Sue makes an amazing medlar jelly which does not involve the need to extract the flesh from the fruits. She basically boils them up with a couple of apples for pectin until mushy and then strains them through jam bags.

To keep the liquid perfectly clear, it is important not to press the fruit mush but just let the juice drain. The juice then gets turned into an amazingly pink-hued jelly. It's a popular seller, but we like to keep a fair bit for ourselves.

In theory, the left-over pulp can be used to make chutney, but this would mean extracting all those stones. Besides, we have chutneys of various descriptions coming out of our ears!

This year we were keen to expand on our medlar repertoire and Sue found a recipe for a ginger, medlar and apricot cake. Only problem was that it required 250g of medlar flesh and it fell to me to extract it. Normally this would have been a doddle as I have a mouli which I use for making things like tomato passata, but this was not an option because of the stones. I tried pushing the medlars through a sieve, but the sieve was not strong enough and the holes not big enough. Eventually we ended up impovising with a metal steamer. It was a long, messy job though. The resulting mash did not look appetising but the aroma was beautifully spicy and exotic.
Sue took her 250g of mashed medlar which was a very small proportion of the 3+ kg I had prepared. The rest was portioned up and frozen, so there'll be no need for more medlar mashing for quite some time.

The cake, unsurprisingly, tastes amazing. And I won't be sharing it in case you're wondering.

A Pear Treat

Last year we got our first ever pear harvest. I have several varieties, but star of the show was the Concorde, an established cross between Comice and Conference. One young tree kept us supplied with delicious pears for a couple of weeks.
So over the winter in our forays to the plant auctions I purchased a further four Concorde pear trees. Well, you can guess what's happened this year. Not a single pear, not even from the more established tree! Some fruits seem to work like this, plums especially, one year a bumper crop and the next year nothing.
But the Beth and the Williams in the chicken enclosure have come to the fore instead. These pears are different in that they need to be picked before they are fully ripe. If you leave then on the tree they go grainy.
I picked most of the Beths a couple of weeks ago and they have now been eaten. Delicious they were too.
The ones growing on the lower branches fell victim to jumping chickens, who very much appreciate a pear to play with.

The Williams weren't quite ready, but when I cleaned out the chickens last weekend I noticed that three of them had committed suicide by falling off the tree straight into the chickens' water. So I picked out the rest, enough to fill a basket. It's not much, but it makes a welcome contribution to our diet and I anticipate ever increasing yields from all of our orchard trees.

Now, a week later, the Williams are ripe and very juicy. There are 9 trays drying in the dehydrator and almost ready as I type. I tried a slice and the flavour just kept increasing in waves.

I expect next year we'll have no Williams or Beths but five trees full of Concorde pears. I won't be complaining.

News From Nowhere

I find the seasonal cycle reassuring. Like the sun coming up, there is a certain security knowing that winter will come again and spring will follow it. Each season holds its own wonders and challenges. Without them things would get monotonous. And as a smallholder, each time they come around I get another chance to try and improve on last year. Unfortunately I grow a year older too!

But this cycle doesn't make blogging easy! How do you write about your potato harvest for the fifth time in five years without getting repetitious? I find pulling potatoes from the ground just as amazing, every time I do it, but it's hard to get enthused about writing about it again. I guess I could always hope that no-one except me remembers the post from a year ago. For this reason, I don't always post about everything I do.

One thing which I do look forward to are the cider club days which Roger runs. The spring meeting fell through due to a last minute lack of apples, so it is now a full year since our last flow of apple juice. I don't see the group in between times, but I enjoy their company. They are a group of thinkers.

This last Saturday we gathered again under ominous skies.
The weather held for us, just, and as we chopped and scratted, pulverised, liquidised and pressed, it put me in mind of a book by William Morris, News From Nowhere, a utopian and nostalgic image of times gone by. (Alternative Title: An Epoch of Rest, Being Some Chapters From A Utopian Romance). It is one of the very, very few books to which I periodically return. In particular it reminded me of the community effort to gather in the hay. These days one man comes along with a massive combine harvester and creates a dust storm. Then, a couple of days later, someone else chugs up and down the field and the hay magically pops out the back in its shiny black plastic roll. It is called haylage these days. But in the past people came together. Undoubtedly it was hard work only made possible by a community effort, but it helped bond the community in a way which has now disappeared.

Anyway, back to the cider making. The beauty of the autumn cider day is that the apples are freshly picked. This year Roger had secured a new supply of mixed apples. Such a mix makes for the best juice and the best cider. He had also surprised us by procuring several boxes of mandarins.

These went straight into the shredder, peel and all and it wasn't long before the juice was flowing.

It tastes absolutely delicious as is, but we have put a good quantity away for when Sue gets time to turn it into wine. Now that's something we don't make every year.

The apple juice turned out equally delicious. We've now got three demijohns naturally fermenting. It won't be long before the bubbles start and the airlock valves start making mysterious noises in the kitchen. There's a demijohn unsealed too. This will turn itself into cider vinegar.

As for those changing seasons, we had the fire on last night. It was dark well before 8. And this morning I watched the swallows streaming across the fields. They are not 'our' swallows, for there are hundreds of them, occasionally accompanied by a handful of house martins. These have not yet chosen to adopt our farm as their summer home, so I see them only very rarely on such days when an exodus is in full swing.

I, on the other hand, will spend much of the winter snuggled up in front of my cosy fire with a glass of cider, or even mandarin wine.

And I'll be thinking of my friends. Thank you Roger.

The Plant Auctions - My New Favourite Place

Now I know how the kid feels who's just been let loose in the proverbial sweet shop.

For every Wednesday and Saturday morning there is a plant auction in a little group of buildings tucked away in a quiet corner of Wisbech. I had heard talk of it, but it has taken me four years to get round to visiting... and boy do I regret the wasted years!



The travelling auction begins

They have just about everything you could find in a garden centre, but at rock bottom prices. In some cases you could knock a zero off the garden centre price. Granted, you have to buy plants in lots, but when you can get a whole tray or a group of pots for the same price as one normally costs, then that's got to be good news. In my case, with rather a lot of land to play with, purchasing one plant at a time has no impact whatsoever, so this way of buying is absolutely perfect.

If I'd discovered the auctions a couple of years ago, there would be a lot more shrubs, flowers, fruits and trees in my garden, veg plot, soft fruit patch and orchard. Anyway, my last two visits to the auction have seen me making up for lost time.
I've been quite restrained actually. The focus has been on topping up the orchard, though I have let myself be tempted by a few ornamentals too.



Bare root fruit trees galore.

The bare root tree section is amazing. It comes at the end of the auction, so most people have gone by then. There's not really even any bidding. The auctioneer just calls out what the reserve prices are and which varieties are available. All you have to do is tell him which ones you want. Most fruit trees come in fives, but I like to peruse the ranks of trees before the auction and count the stems in each bundle, for there are twos and threes to be found here and there. If I end up buying five, I can often sell a couple on to fellow smallholders and then everyone benefits.



Click here to read my post on Concorde Pears

So the outcome of my last two visits has been the acquisition of approximately fifty new fruit trees, which has doubled the size of my orchard.
I was especially delighted to find Pear Concorde at £3 per tree (+ 12% commission). This is the pear which did so well last year and I was prepared to pay a lot more to add to my stock.

I've also added to my range of apples. I now have Egremont Russet, Kidd's Orange Red, Laxton Superb, Scrumptious, more Discovery, Blenheim Orange and Ashmead's Kernel.

There are more plum trees, crab apples and cherries too, but I've saved the very best find till last. For my favourite tree in the orchard is my medlar. Even as a young tree it has taken on the appearance of a gnarled, old specimen. It puts on a stunning display of blossom in the spring and produces an intriguing and luxurious crop late in the autumn. The delightful pink tone of medlar jelly provides the final pleasant surprise.

So when, hidden amongst the serried ranks of trees, I discovered the label "Nottingham Medlar" I was very excited. But when I heard the price - £2!!! - yes, that's right, I said TWO POUNDS - I bought five immediately. I think my first medlar tree cost me over £20.

Click here to read my post on medlars, including a recipe for medlar jelly.

All this happened last Saturday, so I have been a busy bee during the week and all my fruit trees are now planted and labelled in the orchard. I've still got some raspberry canes,rhubarb plants and gunneras to go in, but I managed to get the orange contorted willows planted as well as the grasses, the aconites, the snowdrops and the conifers. I told you I showed restraint!

I plan to visit the auction once a month from now. That way, I'll end up with a selection of plants with interest throughout the year. Priority for my next visit are laurel plants and blueberries, though quite what I'll come back with is anyone's guess.



As you can see, I showed considerable restraint and didn't buy too much.

 Wait till I tell you about my other new favourite place! 

Peroxide orchard

I wrote this two weeks ago but forgot to publish it! Anyway, here's a little bit of orchard management for you.

It could be a beauty parlour. Hydrogen peroxide, essential oils, castile soap, rapeseed oil, bicarbonate of soda...
Well, maybe the last two ingredients give away that I am not actually branching out into beauty therapy.
Rather I have been winter washing my fruit trees. Growing fruit is a steep learning curve for me. I put lots of trees in when we first moved in and this year the investment started to pay off with what resembled an actual crop. Not everything went well, as it was a tough year with long periods of hot, dry weather interspersed with some decidedly soggy and cold periods. All this played havoc with the apples and all the leaves on one of the plum trees shrivelled at one point. However, we got medlars, almonds, our first cobnuts, quite a few plums and damsons and some rather delicious pears.

But now that our trees are in their fruiting phase, I need to get my head around looking after them more carefully and protecting them from all the nasty pests and diseases. From most of my previous reading, I've probably totally wrecked all my trees with bad pruning and I need to instigate a strict regime of spraying nasty chemicals if I am to end up with any fruit. It'll end up costing me a fortune and the fruit won't be any different to what I can buy in the shops.

Of course, this is not what is going to be happening!

For the pruning, I read and read, then read some more. I think I sort of know what I'm doing, at least enough to not totally wreck the trees. I still have to look it up every time though, but in time I'll become an expert.

As for the spraying, I figured there must be an alternative so started researching. During the winter it is a good idea to apply a dormant tree wash. I found a tin of tar oil in the shed - no idea when I bought it. However, this is one of the substances which has now been banned. I rather suspect it's more to do with protecting the sprayer than anything else, but I decided not to use it anyway.
The idea of a dormant wash is that it effectively seals in small bugs and suffocates them. As such, it really consists solely of oil, soap and water. The soap should not contain detergents though. I purchased some castile soap, enough to go a long way. The oil can be any vegetable oil. Rape oil is one of the best, but sunflower oil will do fine. A soap spray is a pretty effective pesticide all around the garden and the oil helps it stick to the plants and not wash straight off.

Back to the orchard trees. They ideally need spraying a couple of times during the winter. I read somewhere about an alternative to the oil and soap solution which included hydrogen peroxide and baking soda. These have a different effect on the small bugs which overwinter in the nooks and crannies of the trees' bark. It basically attacks their coating and leaves them open to the elements. The hydrogen peroxide and bicarb of soda have a fungicidal effect too, which is the reason why I chose to use this spray mix for the first spray of the winter. I'll use the other for the second. If one doesn't get 'em, the other will!
Now, hydrogen peroxide sounds a bit nasty doesn't it? I looked into it though and it's actually very safe. It's just water with some extra oxygen attached and is a very organic way of dealing with things.

I pruned the trees (not the stone fruits, which need pruning later in the winter, when the sap is rising) and the plan was to spray soon after. However, every day the forecast said strong breezes. Every day, these failed to materialise until late afternoon. Eventually I got fed up with this and mixed up my concoction anyway. There was a beautiful, winter blue sky. When the breeze did pick up, I just stopped for a while and enjoyed where I was. The spraying didn't take too long and it was easier than I thought to cover every surface of the branches. I felt like a proper fruit grower! Except that I knew that what I was spraying would only harm what I wanted it to.

Next up should be grease bands.However, I've looked into them and they seem an awful faff, and a reasonable expense. They are designed to stop critter, particularly wingless moths which overwinter in the soil beneath the tree, crawling up into the tree. However, they don't stop the codling oths, the ones responsible for most maggots, as these can fly. So instead, I've opted for encouraging the chickens to peck about in the orchard. I reckon there won't be many flightless moths or their larvae left in the soil after they've been at it all winter.

So for the moment, that's my orchard management taken care of. The next job will be the second winter spray and pruning the plums and cherries.

Let's hope it works and we will be overflowing with delicious fruits next year. If all else fails, we'll just have to go scrumping in Don's orchard over the fence. He doesn't mind at all. Our geese and chickens have already found his windfalls to their liking, as do the winter thrush flocks which are so abundant this year.

What a Nice Pear!

We finally have enough fruit to just about constitute a crop! An unlikely star has emerged this year, for at the far end of the orchard a little pear tree has been flourishing.

Pear Concorde

It's not unknown for a chicken or guinea fowl to spend a few minutes jumping up and down to reach the pears. So it was that the lowest three pears on this tree had little chinks missing from them. I thought that if the poultry were enjoying them so much, I had better try one. I got a real surprise. Not only were the pears ready to eat but they were completely without blemish and tasted delicious. I'm not sure if I should really divulge my secret, but the variety is Concorde, a cross between Conference and Comice. Well done to whoever came up with that idea!

Unfortunately, Sue has also discovered how tasty these are so it doesn't look as if this year's harvest of about thirty pears is going to last very long. She doesn't even usually like pears. However, there are a few gaps need filling in the orchard so I will most definitely be looking out for more of this variety.

Nuts about Almonds

The almond tree in blossom on a foggy morning

The first fruit tree to come into blossom each year is the almond. But the problem is that it usually manages to coincide with early spring cold and windy weather. The wind blows the blossom straight across the Fens and the cold keeps the bees from venturing out to pollenate the flowers.



Last year we got two almonds, which was double the year before. So this year I was ready with the rabbit's tail scavenged from one of Gerry's kills, ready to do the bee's job myself by tickling each flower with the soft fur.
We've now had a week of fine weather with blues skies, soaring temperatures and only the occasional breeze. The almond tree is looking magnificent. Better than that though, the bees have been out and about and it's good to see them returning to the hive, legs laden with pollen. And some of that pollen is coming from the almond tree!

So fingers crossed for the almonds this year. There could be home-made marzipan, bakewell tarts and Christmas nuts for 2014!

Medlar Magic

Of all the fruit trees I have planted, my favourite just has to be the Medlar tree. Only planted for three years, it already looks old, with twisting branches and thick, lush foliage. Add to this a wonderful display of simple, white flowers in the spring time followed by a bountiful crop of intriguing fruits.

 

Now, medlars will not be familiar to most people these days, and even fewer will know what on earth to do with one, or for that matter what one tastes like.
So when I tell you they have to be bletted to make them edible, you're probably still none the wiser.
When I explain that bletting is the process of letting them go soft and mushy (almost rotten), you'll probably be well and truly put off... as was I.

I was quite happy just to grow a medlar tree as a curiosity, but when I saw quite how many fruits the young tree bore, I kept thinking just what a waste of a unique resource it would be just to let them rot away.
When I noticed that a few of them had bletted on the tree, I decided to close my eyes and taste. For medlars are supposed to be quite a delicacy. Having said that, I do find that people claim all sorts of food to be just the tastiest, the more unusual, the more trendy.

When I say that I decided to close my eyes and taste, I actually let Sue take the first nibble. Then I followed. The flesh inside the fruit was like an apple and pear paste with a little sweet spice, perfectly edible, quite pleasant but nothing to rave about.

 

But the delight of medlars is, supposedly, when they are turned into a jelly or a cheese.

The folk at ashmeadtrees.co.uk from whom I purchased many of my trees when I first moved onto the smallholding, have the following to say about medlar jelly:

 

Well made medlar jelly is a true delight. It is beautiful to look at – amber with pink highlights and very glossy.
And medlar jelly is joyous to taste; some say it is like sweet cider infused with cinnamon and a touch of allspice. Whatever your adjectives it is utterly delicious, wondrously fragrant and gives a lift to game and cold meats like no other jelly. Add a spoonful to your gravy and you will never be without it again.

Ingredients (for 6 large jam jars)

• 3 small, sharp apples or 20-25 crab apples
• 2.5kg bletted medlars(see below)
• 600g firm medlars
• 4 lemons
• 3 litres water
• 1.2kg granulated sugar

(Optionally, you can add about 20 cloves at the beginning which are removed when you strain. They make the jelly a bit more Christmassy.)

Instructions

* The bletted medlars should be dark and soft before you start. Clean them by removing any stalks and leaves and chopping them in half. Remove any really obvious rotten bits.

* Cut the lemons and apples into quarters (just halve crab apples if you are using those instead). Then put all the fruit into a maslin or large saucepan, such as you would use for jam making.

* Pour all the water over the fruit and bring to the boil. Once boiling, reduce the heat and cover with a lid. Leave to simmer gently for about an hour.



It still doesn't look appetising, but be patient!

* Don’t boil hard, and keep covered so the water doesn’t evaporate.

* Every 10-15 minutes squash the fruit with a wooden spoon. Don’t over squash or stir the whole time as your jelly will end up cloudy (the taste is unaffected though).

* Pour the whole mess into a jelly bag hung over a large bowl. Bathroom taps are great for the job although we have a hook on a beam in the garage. Just let the juice drip into the bowl.

A beautiful juice emerges

* For the clearest jelly, do not squeeze at all. If you leave the bag there for 12 hours, almost all the juice will have run through by itself anyway. (After the juice has run through, you can put the contents of the bag on the compost heap.)

* Measure the juice, which should be clear and a wonderful amber-rose colour, into a suitably sized clean saucepan and boil hard for 6-7 minutes. Then add an equal amount of sugar (which should be about 6 cups or 1.2kg).

* Bring back to the boil and stir until the sugar has completely dissolved. Boil hard for another 2-3 minutes and test on the back of a spoon for setting.

1. * When it has just begun to set (medlar jelly is best with a soft as opposed to hard consistency) pour or ladle into sterilised, warm jars and seal. Leave to cool.

If you were a bit nervous about your jelly being too hard, and find that is still has not set the next morning, you can put it back into a pan and boil for 4-5 minutes then return to the jars. When cool, medlar jelly should be smooth and soft and have a lovely gleam to it.

So Sue set to work transforming my offerings from the garden into something delicious. And the bletted medlars slowly changed, step by step, from a fairly ugly and unappetising fruit into a refined and beautiful jelly.

Just look at that colour!
It's not amber, like the website said. It's a rich, velvety purple/pink.

 

We got a leg of pork out of the freezer, specifically so we could try the medlar jelly with it, not that we ever need a reason to roast up a nice joint of pork.
And the verdict?

... absolutely delicious.

Still Here (and rejuvenated)

 

Even the Huffington Post got it wrong!
For I am still here. More importantly, so is this... the sun... and... the world



Wednesday 26th December 2012
Boxing Day

The first proper sunrise for quite some time and it did a lot to lift my spirits.
You may remember a couple of weeks ago I alluded to having man flu. Well, it's bugged me ever since. Clearly a severe case, as even Sue has got it now, and she never gets ill. So all our plans to get on with the house while the builder takes a break have been scuppered as neither of us has had an ounce of energy.
Even getting up for the sunrise, late as it is at the moment, has proved a challenge. Yesterday was a very subdued Christmas day, though we did treat ourselves to an untraditional leg of lamb which was absolutely mouth-watering. I guess we're not really breaking with tradition, as we couldn't have chosen anything more special than a leg of our very own reared lamb. I think it was a front leg, though I didn't check if it was left or right. And no idea whether it came from Number Ten or Number Eighteen.

Getting back to the matter, touch wood I finally felt better today and got myself busy catching up with things. The water has receded a little, though the rain returned with vigour this afternoon.

First job was to plant a few cheap fruit trees I picked up a while ago. Not for the orchard these ones, but dotted around the more permanent beds in the veg plot and the soft fruit area. Just a couple of apples, pears, a plum and an apricot.

Next on the agenda - get the Piglets For Sale sign up. We've almost certainly shifted four or five of them, but nothing is signed and sealed yet. It hardly seems like seven weeks ago that I witnessed Daisy's third litter being born.









And so to the next job - clearing a room in the stables so we can separate Daisy from her litter. They've pretty much weaned themselves anyway and Daisy gets most grumpy when they steal all her food, then try to suckle from her as well! I'll bring the two baconers in to keep Daisy company. They've had enough of wallowing around in liquid mud and the ground needs time to recover.

 

Last job on the list was to begin rehousing the poultry.

The guinea fowl have, for some unknown reason, moved roost fences. I so wish they could discover that the Ash trees would afford them much better protection.

 

So I had a little move around of the houses. One of the old enclosures got dismantled so that the chickens now have a door straight through to the orchard. The duck house got moved to make way for the blue house which will become the new home for the Cream Legbar trio. Elvis has well and truly moved on from her ten chicks now and has gone back to old habits, spending most of her time sat on eggs clucking broodily. So as soon as the young Legbars start laying Elvis will be most grateful for some eggs to tend. I await our first blue egg with anticipation.

The ducks' house may have been moved today, but as soon as I have fixed on a new door they will be getting a brand new home. And they will be moved into the veg garden to start attacking the slugs. This will stop them muddying the chickens' drinking water too.

 

While I've got the woodwork gear out, I'll build a shelter for the chickens, somewhere dry for them to hang out. The gang led by the Welsummer cockerels have discovered the dry stables, but the others continue to get soggier and soggier!

 

And I have plans for the geese too. I have hopefully sourced four females to keep the boys company. The gander who lost his mate will be offered out, since the other two do pick on him and he genuinely seems very lonely.

 

 

So you'll see I am back in the swing of things. I'm looking forward to the final five sunrises of the year, hoping they are a bit better than yesterday's.

 

Tuesday 25th December 2012

And then, on January 1st, a sleep-in...Probably not!

 

Just no more crazy resolutions for next year.

 

 

Spuds

Saturday 31st March 2012
The weather turns - just in time for the holidays.

A couple of big jobs out of the way.

During the last week I have managed to get my early potatoes into the ground and mounded up. Some people like to get them in early in March, but when those tops poke through the mounds they will need protecting from the frosts, and I'm sure there's a fair few of those still to come.

Planting potatoes involves an awful lot of moving soil around. It's a big job. Most of the potato crop grows in the mounds of soil you heap up, not down into the ground below. As the shoots emerge, you mound the soil up more, but I like to make the mounds as big as possible at the beginning so I don't need to keep going back to the same job. One unexpected sharp frost, if it catches the young shoots, can set the plants back and undo all the effort of getting them in early.

I like to plant lots of varieties of spuds - they all have their own unique qualities, and I figure that if something goes wrong I prefer not to have all my eggs in one basket. I've gone for four varieties of First Early this year.

Red Duke of York did very well last year. A floury potato, it makes an excellent chip.
Also Arran Pilot, Dunluce and Swift, all for that classic new potato taste.

A little more colour and experiment with the Second Earlies.
Salad Blue I've tried before - a novelty potato with blue/purple flesh, though it can go a bit watery when boiled.
Bonnie is a delightful white potato with red blushes. Charlotte, a salad potato, the one that comes in small, very expensive bags in the supermarkets. Did very well last year. And finally, Edgecote Purple, a new variety to try, deep purple skins.

More Fence

Since the chickens have been given freedom to roam, they have behaved well. On the whole they respect the boundaries of the veg patch and have discovered the orchard and the long grass of the meadow to their liking. The boundary with Don's land here is not chicken proof, and although they'd have  long way to go to get to his vegetables, I don't want to give them any encouragement! So today's little job was to erect 50m of chicken wire fencing, a job which involves lots of walking up and down the fenceline, mainly to retrieve tools which always end up at the other end of the fence to where needed.

With a couple of hours left, I dug a bed around the base of one of the apple trees, a new home for the rest of the strawberry plants which Don gave us.

Eventually, I want to do this with all the fruit trees, with various plants and flowers underneath them, some for beauty, some to protect the trees from disease and pests.