A Long Weekend in Latvia and Estonia

Birdy bits are in blue. Smallholding bits are in purple. That way you can just read the bits you are interested in, or you can read the whole lot. Hopefully this post will gradually fill with photos, as I manage to persuade the photographers to forward them to me.

Steller's Eiders - a bit distant, but you get the idea.

A few years back, Sue and I spent a week birdwatching in Poland, which turned into two weeks due to a volcanic ash cloud. The main target birds were woodpeckers and owls. In the end we were successful with 9 species of woodpecker (we only have 3 in Britain and one of those is becoming very rare). However, it took us the full two weeks and an awful lot of trekking to catch up with the ninth, White-backed Woodpecker. As for the owls, we were treated to brilliant experiences with diminutive but very territorial pygmy owls but it took days of searching to finally catch up with it's larger cousin, the Ural Owl. As for Tengmalm's Owl, this highly nocturnal species proved most frustrating . We got as close as the tree that the bird was in, but just couldn't see the bird. I did see a shadow fly across a gap.

 

So when a friend asked if I wanted to go to Estonia and Latvia to see a similar range of birds, I was very keen. I just needed to negotiate being away for Sue's birthday! Sue is an angel about this sort of thing so I was quickly booked onto a flight.

 

As it turned out, the long weekend was not just a birding experience but a lesson in smallholding and self-sufficiency too. More on this later.

 

A very early morning flight to Riga on Thursday and by the afternoon we had driven North into Estonia, boarded a ferry and were on our way across the island of Saaremaa. The weather was still and crisp and it was great to watch large numbers of winter wildfowl on the sea. A first stop in a cemetery turned up White-backed Woodpecker (yes, the one that took me 2 weeks to catch up with in Poland!) although only Will got a view of this individual. There was Middle-spotted Woodpecker and Great Spotted too, along with Nuthatches, Treecreepers, Bullfinches and Willow Tits.

 

Another stop to break the journey and I had my first lifer, but it was not a bird. Instead stood along a track and SO not bothered by our presence was this

... an elk!

 

 

We found a hotel for the night (60 odd euros for the night... for 4) and were up early Friday morning to seek out our main target species on the island, Steller's Eider. A real Northern species this one. I was lucky to see a female in Scotland in 2000, but for the others it was a completely new bird. We located the bay where a flock of about 300 birds were known to spend the winter and it wasn't long before the flock was located. Rather more spectacular than the lone, drab female I had seen all those years ago. One drake in particular was separate from the rest of the flock, very close to the shore.



 It did, however, have a little trouble balancing on a rock.

On our return we had a staggering 14 White-tailed Eagles in the air at once. We headed back across the ferry, back into Latvia and headed toward the North-East of the country to the forest house of our guide for the next two days, Gaidis. There was another woodland stop on the way, as we had a GPS location for Grey-headed Woodpecker. We parked up and headed into an area of tall trees which shot up towards the sky. A White-backed Woodpecker was quickly located. We found its favourite drumming tree and enjoyed extended views. The Grey-headed Woodpecker duly turned up too and at one point we had both species in the very same tree.
In retaliation for him throwing sticks at me, I then managed to pour soil down Dans back. Impressively, it made it's way all the way down into his wellies!



Watching White-backed
and Grey-headed Woodpeckers

We continued further into Latvia and arrived at our meeting point in the pitch black. Gaidis then drove along a rough forest track and we tried to keep up. We were clearly in a very special place and I looked forward to the morning with great anticipation. Gaidis's wife prepared a lovely late night dinner for us, a real feast of Latvian specialities. Very tasty it was too, washed down with a Latvian beer or two and a rather pungent liqueur. Gaidis and Maia (may have spelt that wrong) were incredibly generous people and made us feel tremendously welcome for the whole time we were there.


The lodge was completely off grid. Water pumped from a well, heat and hot water fuelled by a limitless supply of wood. The walls were of planks which sandwiched insulating layers of sphagnum moss.
The meal itself was a lesson in self-sufficiency, including such treats as home made cheese, smoked ham, duck soup and beef sausages.



I retired to bed and slept like a log, waking to a lightening sky and out to explore this magical place. The morning was crisp. Woodpeckers were drumming and calling, but Gaidis's keen ears picked up a distant calling pygmy owl. I was just as interested in looking around the smallholding.
















The breakfast spread was a real smallholder's banquet, with ham, cheese, eggs, honey and apple juice. In fact, this was all quite familiar, but Gaidis and Mya (If I didn't spell it wrong last time, then I have this time) live in a country of smallholders and come from a generation reared much closer to the land than we are in Britain. What Sue and I do is quite unusual, in Britain but here in Latvia it felt like the skills Sue and I have been learning these past few years are still, for some, passed on through the generations.

The morning's birding was a forest affair. The Pygmy Owl came in and sat right above us. The photographers papped it to their hearts' content.

Woodpeckers were fairly quiet though, but we still saw the giant Black Woodpecker, Grey-headed and Great Spotted.
We looked for Three-toed Woodpeckers, which should have been in an area of damp alder forest but were silent today. We did, however, see plenty of moose poo and plenty of trees chopped down by beavers. The forest was a magical place.

In the afternoon we headed off south towards the site where a Hawk Owl had been present for a while. It had not been looked for in two weeks though, during which time the snows had melted and spring had come. Disappointingly, but unsurprisingly, the Hawk Owl had moved on.

There was another target species for me to hope for today though. In Poland I spent two weeks not seeing hazel grouse. I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Gaidis describes Hazel Grouse as ghost birds. They are relatively common in the right areas, but disappear long before you clap eyes on them.

But I was to be luckier in Latvia. Toward the evening we headed off to another area to try to see Ural Owl. Gaidis works extensively on owl surveys, so knew where the territories were. This did not mean that we were guaranteed sightings though. We still needed a bird to respond to recordings and to fly into the open. Gaidis told us that this was also a good place for hazel grouse and to look along the sides of the road. It wasn't long before BINGO! A bird flew across the road in front of us, quickly followed by another. We managed to see where they landed in the forest and spent the next 20 minutes or so catching tantalising glimpses of them on the forest floor and up in the branches of spruce trees. Excellent.
But the day wasn't done yet. As darkness enveloped the sky we managed to lure in a Ural Owl. At first it called in response to a recording. It is always amazing when suddenly you realise that last call wasn't from the machine. Fortunately the bird flew into the clearfell area to investigate and the others, sharper eyed than me, glimpsed it in the dark. It didn't take long for us to be obtaining excellent views by torchlight. It put on a real show. I was especially impressed with its graceful flight.

Bouyed by our success, we moved on to an area where Tengmalm's Owls had previously nested. They maybe wouldn't even be back on territory anyway, but we whacked on the tape more in hope than expectation. Tengmalm's Owl are very nocturnal and secretive. They occasionally respond to recordings, but generally don't fly towards the tape. After not much more than a minute, a female called from extremely close. This really did come as a surprise. The torches went on and after a while Dan picked up eye shine high up in a tree. But the bird was perhaps spooked by the torch as it flew almost immediately. I saw nothing of it. A period of intense searching ensued, but to no avail. The bird even had the audacity to call once more while we were searching for it, but we just couldn't find it. After a while we decided to leave the area and return a bit later. But this time the bird was nowhere to be seen or heard. The next night it was the same story. Again, so close but so far.

Dan tests the ice on Sunday morning.
Unsurprisingly it doesn't support his weight.

We returned to the lodge, highly satisfied with our day's birding, even if there had been a couple of slight disappointments. That's birding for you.
It may have been approaching midnight, but Mya still provided us with a feast, including Latvian blood sausage which was amazing and pickled pumpkins which were a revelation (project for when I get home). They actually weren't dissimilar to tinned peaches!


Our final day was spent exploring new areas as well as going over old. It started with a successful return to the alder woodland around the lodge. This morning the air was absolutely still and the woodpeckers were clearly enjoying it. Unlike yesterday, the Three-toed Woodpeckers were drumming almost constantly and it didn't take too long for us to locate two or three of them. They are a favourite of mine. Later in the day we found a most obliging Middle Spotted Woodpecker in this line of trees.

 



A drive along the Russian border gave me my best ever views of Capercaillie and then another forest drive had me shouting STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! I did actually say it seven times in very quick succession, only stopping when the car did, for a Hazel Grouse had just run up the bank and just into the forest edge right next to the car. We managed to get it up in a tree and then heard the male singing (sounds like a dog whistle). It wasn't long before we were watching a pair of hazel grouse. They stayed mostly on the spruce branches, but as far as hazel grouse views go these were excellent.

There was to be one more treat for the day. After dark Gaidis's dog was barking and something was barking back at it from the top of a tree... a pine marten. I have only ever seen this mammal twice before, both times as I was hurtling through the night in deepest Scotland. Nothing like this though.

A beer and a shared jug of Birch Sap (something else I really must learn to do - apparently you can easily get 20 litres in a day from one tree) and it was to bed. All that remained of this great break away was an early morning drive back to the airport and the delights of a Ryanair flight back to Stanstead.

At 2:30 in the afternoon on Monday I pulled up in the driveway of my farm. I'd had a brilliant break away but it was great to be back too. And I have lots and lots of new ideas to try. Look out for my posts on collecting birch sap and pickling pumpkins.

RIP GR87420

GR84821

Last year was a good one for barn owls and their numbers bounced back after a disastrous previous two years. Again we started seeing them hunting over the farm, their ghostly shape patrolling the dykes and areas of rough grassland.
Our land is absolutely full of voles. The long grass areas are ideal for them, with a thick layer of thatch allowing them to burrow underneath. In turn, this makes excellent hunting for owls and also for the weasels which I regularly see.

This post, however, concerns sadder news for our barn owls. For at the back end of last year I found a dead barn owl in one of the cast iron baths in which we store water down near the pig pen and chicken enclosure. Remarkably, I found another in the same place just a few days later. I consulted the website of the Barn Owl Trust and found that females especially, after nesting, are prone to falling into water troughs and drowning. They advocate building a raft to float on the water, but it's far from straightforward and wouldn't last long anyway. It's a shame they haven't managed to come up with a simpler solution. I have now placed a wooden cover over the offending bath.



A sad end for an amazing bird

Anyway, the loss of two barn owls, sad as it seems, is probably not too disastrous for the local population which has bounced back well.  Shortly after this sad event I saw three birds together over the sheep paddock. This is most unusual. This spring there have been plenty of barn owl sightings on the farm. Indeed of late they have regularly been hunting during the day, a sign that they are probably feeding young.

Now I would have thought that the two dead birds from last year emanated from the owl box over by the river, not 300 yards from my land. One bird had a ring on its leg so I submitted the details to the BTO. Months went past and I heard nothing, until eventually I completely forgot about it. Seemingly not everything these days is instant.
But then, last week, I received an email informing me that GR87420 was in fact ringed as a nestling near Whittlesey on 9th June 2014. 96 days later I found it dead on 13th September 2014. So in it's short 3 month life it had travelled 16km from its birthplace. Not an amazing bird movement, but somewhat of a surprise nonetheless.

As a final aside, both owl corpses went into the compost bin. I like to think that the spirit of the fenland barn owl lives on in my soil.

Back to The Green Backyard for Straw Bale Building

A few weeks ago we spent a very enjoyable weekend at The Green Backyard in Peterborough, building a cob oven.
This proved to be quite a task which continued into a second weekend. Unfortunately Sue and I could only make the Saturday, so we missed the final day putting the finishing touches to the outside of the oven. This is done with a looser mix of cob, mixed with finely cut straw.

Anyway, I'll cut to the chase.
Here's the rather amazing finished oven.

When Sue and I learned that Alan Eley, who usually works at Hill Holt Wood, was coming back for a third weekend to help build a straw bale wall, we were keen to return. Again, we could only make one day of the weekend, but this time we missed the right day! For a hardworking band of volunteers and course participants spent Saturday laying the foundations. These were basic, just a treated wooden frame into which earth was compacted... and more earth... and more earth. It's surprising how much earth you can fit into a hole! Again, it was subsoil which was required. You don't really want to be building any sort of wall on top of seed-filled topsoil.

So when we arrived here's what we found.

We also found Alan mixing up a wheelbarrow of strange white powder and beseeching us to stay upwind of the dust which was flying everywhere. It has to be said he looked like a wizard!













This was hydrated lime, being mixed with water to form a putty. Later this would in turn be mixed 1:3 with soft sand to make the lime render. Using this is preferable to cement as it allows the walls to breathe. It's also not quite so energy inefficient to produce as is cement.

Membrane between foundations and bales



The hazel stakes which secure the bales in place

We then proceeded to carefully place straw bales onto these foundations, secured with hazel stakes. It's just like giant lego really.


However, if you've ever built a wall (even lego) you'll know that you need half bricks at the end. Fitting straw bales into an existing frame requires various fractions of straw bale, but it's not as simple as just cutting them. For as soon as you cut through the baling twine which binds them so tightly, they quickly expand out into the available space.


Alan demonstrates
splitting a bale

Therefore some technical skill is required. Alan explained how to thread a straw bale needle through to split the bale into two and secure it tightly. At first this seemed like a baffling art which only the initiated could succeed at.














However, the key was to actually have a go at it ourselves. With a bit of a lead and some common sense, it all came together.





Having mastered all the requisite skills, the wall was erected in no time.

Before it could be rendered,
a quick hair cut was in order.

The final bale goes into place



After sharing a communal pot of soup, we returned to begin the rendering. There were plenty of experts on hand, but it was really a case of just getting it to stick however you could.

Sue and I had to leave before the first coat was completely on. Altogether the wall will get three coats of render. We'll return to see the finished product when the cob oven gets fired up.

Meanwhile I am working on plans for a straw bale pig house, possible even with a living roof. I was impressed with the cob, but the straw bale walls blew me away. Maybe that's the wrong phrase for a house made of straw!

"DUCKS! DUCKS! DUCKS!"

The ducks are laying eggs again, but that's really just an excuse for me to post up some half decent photos I managed to get of them. I have three white ducks and three black ducks. You may notice that the number of black ducks has gone down! Two drakes were just proving too much for three girls and one of the girls never got over a serious limp, so when the turkeys finally went to turkey heaven, two ducks went with them too.

As a trio, the black Cayuga ducks now seem much calmer and it was only two days after the 'cull' that they started laying for the first time in 2015. Strangely, one lays blue eggs and one lays white eggs. Pure Cayugas lay blue eggs with a black film. The white ducks lay for a longer season, though one egg a day between the three of them seems to be about as much as they can manage at the moment.

So back to the photography. I always have all sorts of problems with contrast when trying to capture the ducks on 'film'. The Cayugas are wary, only approaching close when I am turning the soil.
The white ducks have become quite friendly though. They have become more adventurous and often wander far into the orchard next door. But they always come waddling back when I call them "DUCKS! DUCKS! DUCKS!"

And when it's time to go into their house for the night they waddle ahead of me, wagging their heads and quacking contentedly.

When I fill the chickens' water buckets and the ducks' paddling pool, they quickly jump in and empty most of it back out again! But at least they are gloriously happy for a while.
Occasionally, if I'm too close, they give me a friendly splash too.

 

 

Herb breads and a doughnut experiment.

Rosemary Herb Bread

As you'll probably already know, I belong to an excellent little group known as The Fenland Smallholders Club.
As part of this, I run a couple of offshoots, one being the Blokes Baking Group, who normally get together once a month. Inspired by this, I've now started baking every Friday evening and I must say I've been enjoying it. However, for the first time in my life I have now gone 1lb officially OVERWEIGHT for my height (though it may just be that I need to recheck how tall I am). So if I am going to enjoy the products of all my baking, I'm going to have to work even harder in the garden to burn it all off.

Anyway, yesterday evening, over a few bottles of real ale, Blokes Baking Group tackled herb breads. I'd planned to use rosemary and sage, as these are about the only two herbs which have not completely died back at this time of year. The rosemary bread was a double rise, which takes about 4 hours from start to finish. Fortunately Sue had the fire on in the living room, which was duly designated as our proving room.

So we mixed and we kneaded and we set the dough aside for its first rise, leaving time to start our great doughnut experiment! This was a project which got missed out previously, but I was keen to have a go. The doughnut dough was soft and gloopy, somewhere between a pancake batter and a pastry mix, so I really wasn't sure if we had it right. It contained yeast, so needed to be set to one side to prove. The book said 20 minutes.

Onto project number three then - sage soda bread.
A soda bread does not contain yeast so is much quicker to make. Traditionally it is made with buttermilk and we usually make one when Sue makes butter. But on this occasion there was no buttermilk in the house so I had to buy some. A hint here - look in the Polish section of the supermarket. You are looking for maslanka. It's £1 for a litre, which works out much cheaper than the other alternative.
The soda bread simply involves mixing all the ingredients into a dough, shaping into a ball, slashing the top and baking. So into the oven it went and we returned to those rising doughballs. To be honest, they didn't seem to have changed much, but we tried one in the fryer. It sank to the bottom, the outside fried nicely and the inside was still mushy! It did, however, taste something like a doughnut should. I reckoned that the dough needed longer to rise, but we also weren't sure about the oil temperature. The book simple said 'very hot'.

We consulted the oracle (www) to be hit with all sorts of contradictory advice. For the proving, we read to prove at 90 - 100F - much warmer than you would for bread. This might explain why the doughnuts didn't seem to have risen. We moved the trays closer to the fire. As for the oil, most people said 190C, but one said 160C. The dough hadn't floated to the surface, indicating the oil was not hot enough. But it had cooked too quickly on the outside, indicating the oil was too hot.
My hunch was to lower the oil temperature and leave the doughnuts to rise properly to make them, well, less dense.
Impatience got the better of us and we tried another batch in the fryer. The result was better, but still not quite there. Jam in the middle might hide some of the problem, but this had seemed a step too far when I was at the planning process.

It was now time for the sage soda bread to come out of the oven. It looked amazing.
The rosemary bread still needed a wee while to rise further and the decision was made to leave the doughnuts to develop too, so we took a while to concentrate on the ales! A new member of the Old Hen family, Old Hoppy Hen, was the subject of much approval.

Some time later and it was time to knock back the rosemary bread dough and shape it ready for its second rise in the loaf tin. While the tins went back into the proving room, we revisited the doughnuts, frying them one batch at a time. Fortunately I'd decided not to triple the mix quantities, for we ended up with 31 mini doughnuts anyway! The more we cooked the better they got. We finally got close to the real thing with the last batch, which floated high in the oil and expanded almost to a state of fluffiness!

I reckon that one more go at these and we'll be ready to unveil to the public.

Our schedule now took us back to the Rosemary Bread. As usual, Phil's had risen the most. I swear he carries a magic powder around with him which he secretly sprinkles into his mix. Into the oven they went and all we had to do now was to wait... and eat doughnuts... and drink beer.

Finally the breads were ready. I was somewhat smug as mine had overtaken Phil's in the oven. Clearly the product of a skilled kneader!!

So here's the final results. Another triumphant evening for Blokes Baking Group.

I don't know what happened to the rest of the doughnuts, but this photo might explain it.

A Dry Crust Signals GO!

It has been such a delight to be able to harvest fresh asparagus from the garden for the last two years, so I have gone and bought another thirty crowns. As ever, though, there's nowhere for them to go yet. But there is a plan, which is to extend the current bed of three rows across the path and to steal a little of the sorrel patch
So about a fortnight ago I decided it was time to start preparing the ground. The soil was still fairly heavy but we'd had a few dry days and an initial turn with my trusty fork would at least be a good start. Problem was, rain was forecast from about midday. After a couple of hours of pretty heavy work I was within sight of the end when the rain started and I had to stop, not because I don't like getting wet, but because the soil quickly becomes unworkable. Anyway, nine hours later the rain stopped. The ground was completely sodden and I wouldn't be able to go near it for quite some time, even if the weather stayed dry.

Fast forward to yesterday. March is nearly upon us. The days are lengthening and between the showers we've had some moderately warm weather. I've even heard a skylark singing on a couple of days. As I was moving some raspberry canes and planting up some currant bushes (last year's cuttings) I noticed that the tansy was sprouting green again, the rhubarb leaves were almost open and the nectarine was threatening to come into blossom. But more boringly I noticed that there was a dry crust just starting to appear on the soil surface. Prepare yourself for some very exciting pictures!

The half dug new asparagus bed

This is a sure sign that the soil is becoming workable. In the height of summer, I'd have about three days to get the rotavator on it before it turns to concrete! But at this time of year the concern is another downpour. And, being a Thursday, that soaking was duly forecast to arrive at 10am. Not to be outwitted, I was up and out early(ish) and it didn't take long to achieve some pretty impressive results. Four beds completely ready for planting and another three have been worked for the first time this year. One more go and they'll reach a fine tilth.

 

Ready to go!

 

All I need to do is wait for the rain to stop (that's why I'm finally composing another blog post) and I can get back outside. There's cloches to be placed, netting and wigwams to be erected and compost bins to be moved.

Meanwhile, inside, the sowing has started in earnest. It's going to be a good year. I can tell.

 

Hotbed - aka the sh*t pit.

Valentine's Day is a very important day for me. First of all, it marks the day when we need to phone the Rare Breeds Centre and line up our orphan lambs for this year. But, more importantly, it's time to clean out the goose stable. For, if they haven't already, the geese will very soon start laying.

Now, I haven't forgotten the romance of February 14th. Keen to do something special with Sue, I let her shovel the straw from the stable, approximately 30 barrowloads of completely minging deep litter.
The day before I had let her help me dig out the bed in the polytunnel where all this was going. Quality time spent together like this is the key to a good marriage.

Be thankful you don't have smellivision!
This is filled to below ground level with a stinking mixture
of goose stable straw and horse manure.
Otherwise known as the sh*t pit!

The soil should warm up nicely in a week or so.

I mixed the goose straw in with a similar volume of horse manure, treading it down as I went.
The general idea is that, as it all rots down, it acts as a free source of heat. This I use to allow me to move tiny seedlings into the tunnel much earlier than I would otherwise be able to. Without this, I would be trying to raise them inside the house, where the guaranteed warmth is unfortunately undone by the lack of light, invariably resulting in weak, leggy seedlings at the best and damping off at the worst.



Mini greenhouses on a hotbed in a polytunnel.
Seedling heaven.

I tried the hotbed idea last year (see this post) and was able to move my tomato seedlings outside as soon as they germinated. They survived their first night, despite a frost, and went from strength to strength, ending up as healthy and very sturdy plants.
Added to that, I was left with one extremely fertile raised bed. Believe it or not, that two foot deep pile of muck and straw from last year has now completely disappeared down to nothing. But my overwintered celery is certainly still enjoying the goodness.



A short friendship for a lonely lady

This is a sad tale of a lonely soul who has finally found friendship.

Some time last year, a peahen moved into Don's back garden. Since then he has been feeding her and she has settled around. She laid eggs last year and called for a mate, but to no avail. Romance was not to be, for finding an available male peacock in the middle of The Fens is not easy.

The peahen now spends more and more time on our side of the road and even, occasionally, ventures over into the veg garden. But last week I found her mixing it with the two turkeys. I couldn't make a close enough approach for a photo though, so the moment passed. To be fair, the two turkeys are very happy with each other and the friendship was, I think, all in the imagination of the peahen.

Today I looked down towards Compost Corner and spotted one of the turkeys displaying, it's tail raised up. They are both females, but occasionally they still make the effort to display. The other turkey was just getting on with pecking around... and so was the other turkey! Three turkeys???

Then I realised, this displaying bird was in fact the peahen. In a desperate effort to make friends she was hanging out with the turkeys again and doggedly displaying to them. She was so prepossessed with making friends that she didn't spot me until later than usual. Even then, she didn't panic and hurry off, she just ambled regally away.

But I stalked her, using the compost bins as cover, and finally managed to catch a half-decent image of her.

So, why is this story a sad one?

Well, this is a friendship destined not to flourish. For just as it is about to blossom, the turkeys are about to meet their maker. They've had the turkey luxury of witnessing Christmas. They've seen snow. They've even worked their way into my and Sue's affections.

But they have to go.

And with them vanishes the peahens chances of friendship. She will go back to her lonely vigil in search of a mate.

Gobble. Gobble.

"What can I do for you, sir?"
"Gobble. Gobble. It's about this e-mail."
"Yes?"
"The one about the Fenland Smallholders Club butchery group doing poultry. Gobble. Gobble."
"Yes?"...
"Well... Gobble. Gobble... You do mean the ducks and cockerels and guinea fowl... Don't you?"

long pause..............


"Gulp. Gulp."
 

Friendly Garden Sprays

My armoury - The most harmless of ingredients.

Not every insect needs to be obliterated in order to protect our crops. If we do that, we eventually obliterate most of our wonderful natural world.
But I can't deny that there are some insects (general term, even if they don't strictly all have six legs) which are bad news. Whilst it may be possible to control them by encouraging their predators, such as birds, hoverflies, ladybirds into the garden, this noble aim is sometimes a little idealistic in the real world. Not that we shouldn't try.
Besides, it's not just insects which threaten. I've probably had more trouble from fungal organisms - mould, rust, blight... than from creatures. Then there are bacteria and viruses, which we can't even see until their effects are all too obvious.

So, to cut to the chase, I know that I should probably spray my orchard trees and I know that I ignored spider mite at my peril in the polytunnel last year. But I really am not willing to smother everything with nasty chemicals. I may as well give up what I do and go buy it all from the shop if I take that approach.

We are therefore looking at home-made sprays. There has been a huge reduction in the number of sprays which can be used by gardeners in recent times. It's probably mostly good news as far as sensible, organic gardening goes, but the problem is the red tape. Apparently it costs in the region of £3million to get all the data required by European Law to license a pesticide. The effect of this is disastrous (similar to rules they have tried to push through about licences for selling seeds). It effectively means that the big multinational corporations gain a stranglehold on the market and many traditional organic remedies have fallen by the wayside. Unfortunately, I cannot help but think that yet again politicians have, inadvertently or not, allowed corporate lobbyists to tread all over the common people. All these rules which are allegedly to protect the consumer (labelling laws being another example) inevitably punish the small producer and rarely actually achieve what they set out to achieve.

I, however, am a man of principle, and am not about to be forced into supporting multinationals who care less about the fate of the planet than about lining their pockets and controlling peoples spending patterns.
Therefore I have determined to make my own sprays. I have seen it written that any home-made spray is illegal to use, even if it's in your own garden and you don't sell any produce. However, even if this were true, I would ignore it since it is plainly unjust and bonkers. But it appears not to be true anyway. Here is the link to the Health and Safety Executive's advice on this matter. I've also copied the relevant text at the end of this document, in blue.

Health and Safety Executive Advice On Using Pesticides In The Garden

Gardener's have been making up their own concoctions for years. We're a thrifty lot. But these have traditionally included some rather dodgy ingredients such as tar and tobacco. I am not even really comfortable with something like rhubarb leaf soup. Just because you can make your own nasty chemicals does not necessarily mean that you should. And many nasty chemicals have natural origins.

But the main ingredient necessary to fight off insects is... soap. And not just any old soap, but pure vegetable soap. They are not allowed to call it insecticidal soap anymore. You can guess why. £3 million.
I researched a lot and ended up buying a container of castile soap over the internet. Compared to Fairy Liquid or Palmolive, it's not cheap. But you only need a tablespoon or two in a 5 litre sprayer, so it goes a very long way and most definitely ends up much cheaper than any commercial alternatives.
It's worth bearing in mind that soap will not just kill the insects you want it to, so sparing and targeted use is still necessary.
In with the soap goes some vegetable oil, to make it cling to the leaves and stems.You can use any, but rape oil (the American sites seem to refer to it as Canola) is particularly good as it's very thin and doesn't clog the sprayer.
If you search the supermarket shelves, you'll find it not too expensive. Again, you don't use much.

And that's basically it.

There are things you can add. Chilli and garlic are commonly recommended (also supposed to ward off rabbits and maybe deer).
Hydrogen Peroxide is a very natural substance to use too, though you need to know what concentration to use. It's also good against fungi. I know you're thinking "bleach" but it's actually just the H2O with an extra O!
And bicarbonate of soda is good if you're main concern is fungal diseases.

So, with the exception of the hydrogen peroxide, we're basically talking common cookery ingredients that you'd be quite happy to put in your mouth (maybe not the chilli!), so I am quite happy that when I spray I am harming as little as possible.

As for the red spider mites, which decimated my indoor climbing beans last year, I've removed all the places where they might be able to hide away for the winter and added a little essential oil to the mix - lemon eucalyptus in this case, though there are several others which would be just as effective.

See here for more detail.

I spent ages searching the internet for my spray recipes, so here's what I have settled on:
Apologies for the strange mix of imperial/metric. It's my age.

My orchard winter wash recipe:

250ml Vegetable Oil
2 tbsp. liquid soap
1 gallon (4.5l) warm water

Just shake to mix, then spray each tree to coat the bark as much as possible. Choose a nice still day, but preferably not when there will be rain in the next 24 hours or a frosty night. Easier said than done in January and February. Be patient and wait for the right time, as long as you spray while the trees are still dormant.
Don't use on walnuts (I've no idea why! I read it somewhere.)

My red spider mite recipe:
As above, but with the addition of 10 drops of Lemon Eucalyptus Oil (bit of a guess really).

You may want to scale this down, as it will make 5 litres. Spray on all leaf surfaces (not so easy getting at the undersides, but do the best you can). I also sprayed all nooks, crannies and crevices in the tunnel. Don't spray on a really hot, sunny day (unlikely at this time of year, but quite possible once your polytunnel is full of greenery) otherwise the soap may damage the leaves.




I'll let you know if they work.
Meanwhile, here's the text of that HSE advice. I think I'm safe,

Can I use home-made remedies to control pests, diseases and weeds in my (home) garden?
HSE are aware that some gardeners routinely use home-made remedies that are not authorised to control pests, diseases and weeds. In some cases these remedies are simple physical barriers and are outside the scope of UK and EU regulations. In other cases these remedies involve the use of chemicals either from foodstuffs, like coffee grounds, or from household products which are not normally intended to be used as pesticides.
Part of the legal definition of a plant protection product takes into account the intended use of the product. For example garlic extract sold as a foodstuff doesn’t require authorisation under plant protection product regulations but garlic extract sold as an insecticide does. In practice this means a number of own use home-made remedies such as beer traps or coffee grounds fall outside the scope of regulations.
However this does not mean that use of these remedies including use of common household chemicals as a pesticide is without risk or that it is always legal. For example in circumstances where a home-made remedy was supplied to another user (whether free of charge or not) this may fall in scope of the regulations ,and if so would be illegal without an authorisation. In this sort of circumstance, where HSE (or other enforcing authorities) obtain evidence of such a supply or use we would need to consider appropriate and proportionate enforcement action.
HSE’s policy on enforcement and the circumstances in which enforcement is appropriate is set out in more detail in our Enforcement Policy Statement .

A Secret Stash of Blue Eggs

Spot the birdy

It's been an absolutely beautiful day here today and Sue and I have busied ourselves to make the most of it. Jobs knocked off the list have included winter washing the orchard trees, spraying the polytunnel against red spider mite (more on these two in the next post), planting up winter aconites, snowdrops and grasses, cleaning out the chickens (Sue) and starting to rearrange and plant up the extended herb bed.

It all finished with a beautiful sunset against which I was lucky enough to watch a barn owl hunting, a perched little owl and a little egret fly right over the farm for the second successive night. The barn owl was probably the same individual which had flown from the old ash tree earlier in the day and which has been spending more and more time hunting on the farm of late.

As for the little owl, I saw it for the first time in a while last night. I guess that they are nesting at the moment, as they always go incredibly secretive. Anyhow, as I was pottering away in the herb bed this evening I became aware of a right old racket going on behind me. I could hear multiple blackbirds, great tis and blue tits all very agitated. I knew from experience that there must be a bird of prey somewhere and expected to see the barn owl perched back in the ash tree, but to my surprise it was the little owl which was the subject of such outrage. It was perched out right at the top of the tree. I remember this sort of behaviour last year and wonder if it is not a sign that chicks have hatched. That would cause the adults to have to be out hunting more and potentially keener to keep an eye on what is going on outside too.
The owl stayed in the tree for about an hour and as the sky turned flame red it started calling and was answered by another. All good news.

But it was an altogether more tame bird which provided the find of the day by Sue. My Crested Cream Legbar girls (chickens, in case you're wondering) came back into lay about a month ago. It's easy to tell which are their eggs as they are blue. A friend of ours is keen to have some of their offspring, so we put the first four eggs aside ready to go in the incubator but then...nothing. Not a single further blue egg. In fact, the only blue eggs we have seen since are tiny little specimens, presumably laid by the younger birds just coming into lay for the first time.
I had a sneaking suspicion that the girls were in fact laying, just not where they are supposed to! They spend a lot of their time scratching around near the stables and I did discover a couple of their eggs in there, but as soon as I took them they stopped laying there. Mistake on my part.

And so, today, Sue was in the right place at the right time to observe one of the girls creep stealthily under a large prickly pyracantha bush which grows right next to the patio doors. There she sat and with that was solved the mystery of the disappearing blue eggs. She finally moved off to reveal a stash of ten eggs. The plan now is to leave them until we can take a dozen for the incubator and leave some to encourage the hen to keep on laying.

The secret stash

So I guess this is a tale unfinished. Hopefully it will have a happy ending.