Wednesday 22 July 2015

Marbled Whites, Chalkhill Blues and Frog Orchids at Barnack Hills

Barnack Hills and Holes Nature Reserve - site of a medieval limestone quarry

There is a period in July and August, between the migrations, when birding becomes very quiet. The summer doldrums. Unfortunately it coincides with my summer holiday. Six weeks when I'm free to go anywhere at the drop of a hat and all there is to look at are a few passing waders and maybe a couple of days spent in the south-west gazing out to sea in the hope that some far-flung waif seabird goes shooting by.
Of course, as soon as I return to work the rare birds start turning up again. One year a first for Britain, a Purple Martin all the way from America, had the indecency to turn up on the Western Isles on the last Sunday of my summer holiday. It stayed for a few hours into the next day, but I could hardly let down a new class of 5 year olds on their first day at school, could I? (And no I didn't, in case you're wondering).

So many birdwatchers turn to other wildlife at this time of year. Our obsession with all things with wings leads us to butterflies, moths and dragonflies. Although I've flirted with such subjects in the past, along with trying to get to grips with our native fauna, I've managed to resist the temptation.

But last Sunday I dragged Sue along to an organised butterfly walk at Barnack Hills and Holes Nature Reserve, just outside Stamford. It is the site of a medieval quarry and, this far north, is a very rare patch of limestone grassland.

Dodder?

Six-Spot Burnet on Greater Knapweed
We booked the walk through Greeniversity. The weather was a bit breezy for butterflies, but at least it wasn't raining. But when we turned up at the small reserve car park, we were turned away! The car park was full. We had expected about 10 people but there were closer to 50! Now I may have just endured my 49th birthday, but it has to be said that Sue and I were among the youngest, by quite some distance.
But with that age came knowledge. There were several botanists (plant people) at hand and a couple of entomologists (insect people). It didn't take long to catch a glimpse of our first target butterfly species scooting past, a Marbled White. This was only the second time I'd ever seen one. We were to see many more during the afternoon, though it took quite some time before one sat long enough to be appreciated properly.

Marbled White
Kneeling in homage

















Our second hoped for butterfly, the Chalkhill Blue, we were informed was only just on the wing. There may be one or two around if we could find them. This was slightly disappointing news, for I'd never seen one before, at least not knowingly. However, it didn't take long for the group to find one, but again it was flighty and only stayed still long enough for me to get a quick snap.

Fortunately we got to see quite a few more as the sun came out and the wind died down a little and close-up views were eventually afforded to all.

As it turned out, the day wasn't just about butterflies, for limestone grassland holds its very own range of specialist plants. We were shown such oddly names plants as dodder, knapweed broomrape, mignonette, clustered bellflower, small scabious and common rockrose. The first two of these parasitise other plants so don't need chlorophyll, which means they aren't green. The broomrape in particular was fascinating, appearing as if someone had gone round the reserve spot-treating it with Roundup!

Common Rockrose
Knapweed Broomrape


















There were some even more special plants on the reserve though, for squadrons of Pyramidal Orchids poked their pink heads above the sward. These are the last orchids of the year to flower. The reserve is actually host to 8 species of orchids, but most of the others, such as Fragrant Orchid and Man Orchid, had gone over now.














There was one more treat in store. For roped off to protect them we were lucky enough to be shown a small group of Frog Orchids. If you hadn't known you would have walked straight past, for Frog Orchids are not especially pretty. But they are very rare. The whole plant, including the flowers, is essentially green, but that is not where the frog bit of the name comes from. The flowers resemble small frogs...well, they're supposed to. I struggled to see it myself.

I only wish I'd taken along my proper camera and not relied on my phone to capture the many interesting finds of the day. I guess that gives me an excuse to go back, maybe earlier in the year when the Pasqueflowers or the Man Orchids are out.
Finally I would like to thank the Friends of Barnack Hills and Holes for showing us all around, sharing their knowledge and displaying great patience answering our questions all afternoon.



Saturday 18 July 2015

Peppers sweet and hot - Saving the seeds

A redesign of my polytunnel space this year gave me a central bed just ideal for sweet peppers and they have responded admirably. I already have plenty of fruits, though there'll be a wait if I want to eat them red. But just look at this one, appropriately named Purple Beauty.

This year I am growing five varieties of Sweet Pepper. There are:

Lamuyo - an F1 variety, great for chunky green peppers
Hebar - from Reelseeds.co.uk - produces an abundance of very early, pale yellow peppers, turning red later
Yellow Ringo - A long, yellow variety, very sweet
Purple Beauty - from Realseeds.co.uk again - as it's name suggests. Another early cropper, so good for UK
Hungarian Hot Wax - really a chilli, but mild enough to be eaten as a pepper, especially when young and lime-yellow. Slightly hotter when they turn orange and then red, but still won't blow your head off

Hungarian Hot Wax
Lamuyo
.
Hebar


































I tried to grow Red Marconi too, a lovely long red pepper, but the cheap seed I bought had clearly lost its viability as two attempts to germinate the measly 8 seeds I received both failed.

And therein lies a problem. For pepper seed (both sweet and hot chilli) does not stay viable for long. It is slow to start, taking up to two months for some of them to germinate, so if it fails you are really pushing it to start over. Having said that, with the aid of the polytunnel I do start my peppers off much later than other people. Many start them in January, when you need at least artificial heat and maybe even artificial light to get them going. I really can't see the point of this. Instead, I start my sweet peppers off in the first week of March and my chillis even later, in the last week of March. I have no trouble getting them to the ripened fruit stage and the seedlings certainly appreciate the extra heat of late spring and early summer.

The chillis that I grow are Jalapeno, Habanero, Scotch Bonnet, Cayenne, Paprika and Tabasco. Nothing special. In fact, I got most of them in a reduced priced packet of mixed chillis from a pound shop!
But all my original purchases of pepper seeds are now rapidly losing their viability. I had to sow plenty more than I needed to take account of this and even then I failed completely on the paprika. Luckily a friend had some to spare.
Not that I am tight, but I don't really want to go out and purchase a dozen packets of seed next year just to use a few from each packet. So the obvious answer is to save my own seed from what I have grown.
But chillis and peppers will readily cross, producing unpredictable offspring. That large sweet pepper could conceal the heat of a Jalapeno and that fiery Scotch Bonnet could be a completely damp squib.
Short of growing them a mile apart, or constructing special net cages for each variety, there has not really been a way to save my own seed.
However, here's where I sing the praises of The Real Seed Collection, a not-for-profit company which aims to actively encourage its customers to save their own seed and not need to keep going back for more. Without getting on my high horse too much, it makes commercial sense for the large seed companies (and some, like Monsanto, are truly global corporations) to discourage this sort of activity. After all, if we all acted like the thrifty gardeners of old and saved our own seed, how would they make their money?
Here's the header from the Real Seed Catalogue:

You'll find no F1 hybrids or genetically modified seed here - just varieties that do really well and taste great when grown by hand on a garden scale.
The name of the catalogue reflects what we are working to provide: real seeds for real gardeners wanting to grow proper vegetables.
Many are rare heirlooms, and because all are open-pollinated (non-hybrid) , you can save your own seed for future years, using the instructions we supply. There's no need to buy new seed every year!
 
The Real Seed Company have lots of great advice about seed saving on their website. They have also come up with a way of saving chilli and pepper seeds by isolating individual flowers on a plant.
Basically you make small bags out of old tights (stockings will do too, though not fishnets as they need to keep the insects out!). They say to sow, but I just tied the ends. You then place this over a flower which is just about to open and use a peg to close the end of the bag. This way nothing can get in or out. More precisely, no insect can transfer pollen from another plant to your chosen subject. Fortunately peppers will readily self-pollinate, so all you are doing is making sure that your chosen pepper develops in this way.

Obviously you want to be choosing a pepper on one of your best plants and it doesn't work on F1 varieties, as if fertile they will not produce true to type, most convenient for the companies which push them so hard. You also want to make sure that you bag your flower early enough in the season for the fruit to eventually ripen properly, otherwise you'll have no seed to collect.

After about 5 days, once the fruit has set, you remove the tights, marking the stem with a plastic twist tie so you know which fruit to eventually collect the seed from.
Once you collect the seed, dry it well and look after it through the winter (more very useful advice on the RealSeeds website). And that's it. The following year you'll have plenty enough seed for you and your friends.
Of course, if you've got an axe to grind with any of them, you could always try to cross a sweet Yellow Ringo with a Scotch Bonnet and give them that seed instead!

Thursday 16 July 2015

Prickly subjects

The rabbits are back. Not many (yet), but one is in the soft fruit patch and one is making the occasional scraping in the flower borders. I'm sure there are in reality a lot more than two, or there will be soon.
As I let Boris out for his early morning constitutional this morning, a faint mist masked the rising sun and hung low over the fields. A barn owl flew from the hollow ash tree and a bunny hopped across the lawn. Boris watched it, but was more interested in facing out the guinea fowl. He did evenutally go bounding through the long grass in the general direction of rabbit. Gerry, on the other hand, went straight into stalking mode.

Anyway, those cute little bunnies are in fact pesky little blighters which cause untold damage. So the rabbit traps have come back out. I've only ever caught one baby rabbit in a rabbit trap, but I live in hope. So you can imagine my surprise yesterday morning (Boris got me up at 4:10am!) when I noticed that something had caused the rabbit trap door to close. With my eyes still bleary and the early morning light dim, I went over to investigate and there was indeed a creature inside the trap.


trapped
But it wasn't what I expected. Rather too prickly. For I had caught a hedgehog! The first ever hedgehog for our garden. Fantastic news!



released


Now onto the second prickly matter. Gooseberries.

This year the gooseberry bushes are raining gooseberries
I got to wondering who put the goose into gooseberry, but Wikipedia gave no good reason. I did however find two interesting facts.
The French for gooseberry, groseille a maquereau, translates as mackerel berry, which seems even more off the wall than gooseberry. Though come to think of it, aren't gooseberries supposed to be good with oily fish? Perhaps, once upon a time, they were considered a good accompaniment to goose.

The second fact?
"Gooseberry bush" was 19th-century slang for pubic hair and from this comes the saying that babies are "Born under a gooseberry bush."

That thought will make the task of gooseberry picking even more toilsome than it already is. For gooseberry bushes are armed with vicious thorns. However well they are pruned into the traditional open goblet shape, the berries themselves do a very good job of hiding and are often best located by feel, which requires a very gentle and tactile approach. One false move and your fingertip is impaled.

But the annual task of picking the berries is still a joy. For gooseberries remain something of a luxury in this country and are not widely available. Presumably they are not mechanically harvestable. So to be able to go into our garden and harvest a plentiful supply is something to be celebrated. Our nine bushes are now in their fourth year and are producing very well, especially now that I have learned to prune them properly. On top of this, I took cuttings last year to multiply them and the new bushes have produced a few berries already. So here's to a prickly future!


Boris relaxes under a gooseberry bush

Monday 13 July 2015

Snowy Icebergs

My lettuce growing has really taken off this year. I've got Little Gems, Lolla Rosso, Lobjoits Cos, Romaine and Iceberg.




The Icebergs are of the variety Maugli and have done exceptionally well in the polytunnel. In fact, this time a few days ago they were really looking the real deal. But then holes started appearing. Just a few small ones at first. I sprinkled some organic slug pellets around the lettuces, but the holes carried on, gradually increasing in size and frequency until some of the lettuces started to look a little ragged.
It was becoming clear that slugs were not the problem. No slime and no remedy despite the pellets. There were also now tell-tale piles of black poo. I delved into the leaves of a lettuce and there I found a bright green, looping caterpillar. The caterpillar hunt went into overdrive and I started finding more and more, bigger and juicier specimens. Beautiful as they were, they most certainly were not welcome. I picked off as many as I could, squishing them disgustingly between my fingers, but it was clear there were more tucked deep down, inaccessible between the hearting lettuce leaves.

Research confirmed that these lime green loopers would, if allowed, grow up to be small white cabbage white butterflies. Not having grown lettuces particularly successfully before, I stupidly hadn't even realised that they would be targeted by cabbage whites.
As picking them off was not going to be effective, I decided to prepare a soap spray. Not ideal on salad leaves as it might scorch them and they would need a good wash before eating, but the best option available. I took to the interweb to remind myself of the best solution to mix up and very quickly came upon an alternative organic solution - flour!

So at 6am this morning, before the blazing sun was having too much effect (yesterday the thermometer in the polytunnel was at scorchio!), I sprayed the lettuces to simulate rain or dew and then applied the flour sifter.

The icebergs had snow on them!




Apparently, the caterpillars are supposed to eat the flour which causes them to bloat and die.

ed - if you're wondering how I've got scorching weather here when you've got clouds and drizzle, this post was written just before the lightning storm took out my broadband. Things have moved on a bit since then. As for the lettuces, the flour was quite effective, but not before the caterpillars had done enough damage to really spoil them. I even found one which had made a cocoon inside the lettuce.
I have some more seedlings on the go though. I'll net the next ones!

Sunday 12 July 2015

Stoatily Surprised

This happened a couple of weeks ago, but that amazing storm we had a while back blew up my broadband router! Well, that's a bit melodramatic, but it stopped working anyway, along with both my neighbours.
Anyway, it was a fun storm and I now have a new router.

So, as usual I head down to the chicken enclosure to do the afternoon feed and collect eggs from the various locations where the chickens choose to lay. It's always a surprise which chicken house will have the most eggs. Some days a particular house may have no eggs and the next almost all of the eggs. No rhyme or reason.
I open up the flap to the nest box of the big house, where the Indian Game hen has been sitting for quite some time now looking after each days offerings until I pluck them from under her warm belly. She never pecks me and often tries to snuggle back down to sit on my hand! But today she has moved to a different nest box, still in the same house. The reason for this soon becomes evident.




To my surprise, to say the least, a young stoat is staring up at me! This is very bad news, for not only would a stoat in with the chickens be bad news for the eggs, it would be bad news for the chickens too.
I love stoats and weasels. They're beautiful and amazing predators. I see more weasels on my land than stoats and have often wondered why they don't seem to have developed a penchant for my chicken eggs. For a ruthless predator, they can be remarkably blind to my presence. This stoat too was just staring straight at me, despite the fact that I was only a couple of feet away. My first instinct was to grab it but self preservation prevailed. I like my fingers just the way they are.
So instead I grabbed my phone cam - I always have one mind on the blog, it is a great way of capturing events and progress on the farm for posterity. By now it was becoming apparent that something was amiss with this stoat. It had flies buzzing around it and seemed to have multiple puncture wounds. It was clearly a young one, closer to the size of a weasel than a stoat, and it seemed to be looking for somewhere to nestle down.  The fact that Indian Game hen was still in the chicken house confirmed that something was up.

I opted to shoo the poor creature out of the chicken house, hoping that it would bounce off and leave the enclosure by the same route it came in. The enclosure is completely fenced to a foot underground, but over the years various tunnels have managed to get round my defences. I think the moles follow the fence line and the rats use their tunnels as a starting point.
Back to the stoat. I poked and prodded it towards the fenceline. It clearly wasn't well. But it did one and a half sides of the fence before disappearing down a hole. It never came out the other side and the hole didn't seem to go very deep, but for now the injured stoat was hunkered down out of reach. I left it alone.

Twenty minutes later I return to check things out and there, back in the nest box... yes, you've guessed. This time it really does seem to be nestling right into the straw. I fetch a bucket to catch it in, but it won't fit through the opening, so instead again I prod the stoat out of the chicken pen and then plonk the bucket down over it. The only available lid is a rather oversized bin lid and in my effort to slide it under the bucket, the stoat squirms out. I try again, but now the stoat is slithering through the long grass and I just can't get the bucket over it. Then, all of a sudden, it heads down a hole that I didn't even know was there.
And that is that. Never to be seen again, despite constant checks over the next few days.

My best guess is that this young stoat was inexperienced. Kicked out of its parents' territory, it wandered until it found what it thought was a perfect hunting ground, full of chickens, ducks, eggs and even the occasional rabbit and rodent. But the poultry had not welcomed it and had been brave enough to tackle it. I'm guessing here that the guinea fowl may well have something to do with this as they really are very defensive and pretty fearless, operating as a team (unlike the chickens) and able to dispel all predators. Indian Game hen may well have taken part too, for she is a tough old hen. The other day she even chased Boris! (My fast growing puppy, if you're not a regular visitor)

I'll leave you with the Facebook conversation which ensued on the Fenland Smallholders site. I especially like the bit about sucking out brains!!!



25 June ·
Not what I expected to find in the nest box! I chased it out but 20 minutes later found it back in there. I think it's a young one and the chickens or guinea fowl have wounded it badly. Buzzing with flies. Seemed more intent on snuggling into the straw than stealing eggs. I eventually lost it down a hole having failed to capture it in a bucket..
 

 we have 3 of them out the back too
 
 That will take more than your eggs! I'm pretty sure I have one that took 4 cockerels and even a Turkey!
 
 Generally very welcome (catch rabbits and rodents) but not so in the chicken pen. Anyway, pretty sure this one is fairly badly injured and pretty sure it was the poultry what done it!
 
 if it stays around your chickens it will eventually suck their brains out while they sleep - ok for catching rats and rabbits but NOT with your poultry - we had one once which eventually wiped out 2 dozen laying hens. they pretend to be sick and then 'dance' to the chickens to mesmerize them and then strike - nasty vicious little beasts!!!
 
 Yes I know what amazing predators they can be. Which is obviously not good when it comes to chickens. But if pretending to be sick includes real wounds and an entourage of flies then hats off to the stoat!

Thursday 25 June 2015

Polyculture, the way forward?

There follows an in-depth philosophical overview of the nature of vegetable gardening. There is a lot of detail about the principles I follow. It undoubtedly poses more questions than it gives answers. For this I apologise, but I am feeling a bit confused when it comes to how to manage my vegetable plot. It is time for a re-evaluation. Not that anything is going dreadfully wrong.


Every time I visit the Green Backyard in Peterborough I come away inspired. When we were last there making our rocket stoves, I looked around the vegetable garden and it looked nothing like mine. Notwithstanding the amazing sculptures and willow weaving which emerge every time you turn a corner, the vegetables themselves looked different. There is clearly a plan of sorts in effect, but it looks all cottage gardeny. Love-in-a-mist and salsify dot themselves around, along with marigolds, nasturtium, rosemary, sage, poppies. Every space has been filled, but just as often it would seem accidentally.









This is close to the image I had in my head of what I wanted my veg plot to look like, but I've strayed a long way from it, lured by neat lines and rotavated empty spaces. One bed in particular caught my eye. For just a few months ago it was a strawberry bed, before we did this to it!

Digging out the clay for the cob oven
But now it has been backfilled and planted up with black kale, peas, chives, courgettes, French beans, lettuces, potatoes. The plants still had plenty of room to grow into and nothing had yet self-seeded into the bed, so this was just about the only bed with visible bare earth.
But hang on a minute! What's happened to the rotation? I see plants from all different groups in the same bed.

Rotation is the keystone of organic gardening. The basic theory is that similar plants take similar nutrients from the ground, while others actually enrich the soil. So if you rotate your crops then you can control the soil to the benefit of each plant group and the soil will not become depleted. You top up the goodness with plenty of compost and manure before the spuds and the brassicas (green, cabbagey things) go in. The root crops go into soil which is not too heavy in nutrients, as they don't need them. The beans go in before the brassicas, as they fix nitrogen in the soil.
That's the theory.
A further benefit is that pests and diseases don't get time to establish in the soil, as each year they find a different type of crop in their patch. This is especially important when it comes to the brassicas.




With a bit of planning, this system is nice and straightforward. Crops go in, crops come out. And every year you dig and rotavate the whole lot, add your organic nutrients and let the chickens in to clear the ground of creepy crawlies and to further enrich the soil. Almost as simple as it sounds.

As well as rotation, there are other gardening principles which I have tried to embrace, most notably companion planting. Some plants prefer the company of others, but most importantly, some plants deter and confuse pests. Herbs are good at this, as are marigolds (calendula and tagetes) and nasturtiums.
A lone tagetes tries to protect the surrounding turnps
There are other principles which I don't follow, such as no-dig gardening. In this version, you don't dig! Sounds ideal! Instead you just keep adding oodles of compost to the surface, so never treading the soil down and never bringing all the weed seeds to the surface, which can be a big problem when you have just rotavated the ground in spring.
I can understand this, but think it works best on a very small scale garden with maybe just a few small beds. Even then, I don't actually think many gardens would have the capacity to produce enough compost to sustain this system. I suspect you either need enough land to bring in compost materials from elsewhere or, in urban gardens, people end up spending a small fortune on bags of compost, which somehow feels wrong to me.

Anyway, as much as I can I avoid treading on the soil - hence a system of small beds so that much can be reached from the grass paths. But gradually I have joined the beds, as the effort of mowing and edging the intricate system of paths became unmanageable and there is no way I can afford or desire to turn all my paths over to bought in aggregates. I must admit though that the volume of weed seeds dragged to the surface by the spring rotavation is a problem and they often overwhelm the emerging crops as they race ahead of them. There's only so close to your crops that a hoe can go and only a certain amount of hand weeding that my back can take.
In general, if the soil is dry, I hoe. If it is wet, I pull.

So, that's the theory over and done with.
Now for the practical. And I'm afraid it begins with a list of problems I have encountered, which have led me to slowly move towards bigger beds with neat lines of crops with bare soil between. It's all very ordered and, if you leave enough space between rows, you can get down them with a small rotavator which makes the large scale part of weeding a doddle.


I originally started out trying to combine gardening by rotation with companion planting, but found that it was tricky to hoe between the rows, or to get the companion plants to mature in time to do their job. If I planted marigolds in with my potatoes, they got between the rows and stopped me cultivating by any other method than by hand, which is just not practical on a large scale. Worse than that, maybe they kept certain pests and diseases at bay, but they stopped the airflow between plants which is so important in the battle to stave off blight, a pestilent fungal disease which carries a much greater threat than all other diseases and pests put together. One further problem, the calendulas needed to get going early so that they were healthy plants bursting with flowers in time to have a positive impact on the spuds. But the easiest way to get the spuds in the ground is just to rotavate or dig the whole patch in preparation for the seed potatoes going in. You just can't be working around small emerging marigold plants.


The potato patch. Pretty much bare earth for up to 9 months of the year

Another good idea for growing potatoes is to grow a couple of horseradish plants in with them. Just a couple will do. I tried this, taking cuttings from my horseradish patch, but they only really got going in their second year, when the spuds had moved on! I decided to leave them in the ground so they would be there next time the spuds came round, in a couple more years. But most of them got rotavated in the winter, as they had retreated below ground. Even if I had marked their location rotavating around them would have been a pain. And besides, I would need to plant one in every bed, as eventually every bed would be host to potatoes.

So I have decided to abandon companion planting in the potato patch. It looked prettier and felt right, but it was just not practical. Shame.

Calendula marigolds are excellent companions for most plants
I tried growing carrots mixed in with annual flowers too. These are supposed to confuse the carrot root fly and I figured it would look very attractive, a wild flower patch which also yields carrots. Trouble was, the flowers outgrew the carrots, which are slow to get going, then crowded them out. Besides, I ended up being more confused than the flies when I couldn't find the carrots in amongst the mass. At the end of the year, when the flowers had died down, I found carrots in the ground when I was rotavating. Most of them got shredded as the tops had died down and I couldn't find them before the blades of the rotavator. I could have followed the original lines, but the crop was too scant to do this as the young carrots had been overwhelmed. To make matters even worse, they were riddled with carrot fly!
I tried some more practical companion planting, growing my rows of carrots between rows of onions and garlic. This had more effect keeping the carrotfly away, but I have still found it easier to grow my onions separately, in their own bed each year. I just rotavate their patch to a fine tilth, plant the sets, keep it all well weeded and, come late summer, pull them all out again leaving a nice neat patch of bare earth ready to be worked in the autumn and left bare in the winter, for the chickens to pick over. Last year I decided to let self-seeded nasturtiums grow in amongst the onions. They grew too well! The onions got lost underneath and many of them ended up rotting off. Lesson learned. So now the onions grow on their own and the carrots grow in neat lines behind the protection of netting. Besides, the onions and garlic need fertile soil and the carrots don't, so growing them together does not really work in that sense. Except that I am now reading that it is not fertile soil that makes carrots fork after all. It is hard and stony ground, which mine is not. I must say, it is very rare that a carrot forks on me. A lot of the parsnips did last year, but I think that was because I didn't prepare the soil deeply enough. Mind you, I read so much contradictory advice that I never really know what to believe. So many of the old gardeners' ways are now superseded by modern methods, but I'm really quite confused over how much of that old wisdom was just wrong advice handed down from generation to generation and how much was the incredibly valuable benefit of experience. I'd like to think the latter, but then you look at the over reliance on nasty chemicals which I guess comes from the post war years and you begin to wonder.
I have read too, that the best way to maximise the nitrogen collected by bean plants is actually to uproot them and put the whole lot on the compost bin, in which case you can then eventually return the nitrogen to whichever part of the plot you wish. So bang goes the idea of leaving those nodules in the ground to give nitrogen to the brassicas which follow the beans.
It's fair to say I am feeling more than a little confused. I think I have read too much!

Companion plants get in the way... Brassicas don't need to follow beans... Carrots don't split in fertile soil...Small beds are unmanageable on a large scale...Are all my principles going down the swanny????

On the other hand, I am getting good potato harvests. For the first time this year I am getting success with my carrots. I am (almost) on top of the weeds thanks to straightforward rows and an annual winter clearance of the soil.

Yet something feels wrong. Much as the OCD part of me likes the neat rows and clean ground between them, the creative, nostalgic part of me yearns for that cottage gardeny look and the radical side of me wants desperately to believe that there is merit in companion planting and working with nature rather than constantly fighting to stave it off.
Feverfew growing up against the polytunnel

On the one hand, I don't want the soil so full that there is no ventilation. Also I don't want to be weeding by hand all the time. But on the other, it feels as if the soil is bare for half it's life and that having nothing between neat lines of crops is just allowing the soil to dry out and become sterile.

The vision I had when I was planning everything was one of vegetables accompanied by herbs, fruit bushes and perennial flowers, as well as self-seeding colonisers such as California poppy, nasturtium, love-in-a-mist, angelica. And I wanted comfrey and horseradish and lovage dotted around. I wanted to let plants go to seed and surprise me the next year.

But as soon as you put a rosemary bush, a redcurrant, some horseradish root and some flowering bulbs into a veg bed, it becomes impossible to rotavate it. And with that it becomes impossible to maintain a well-ordered rotation.
I've never managed to be organised enough to grow green manures properly, but this year I am planning to. Imagine trying to dig or rotavate these back into the soil whilst trying to avoid various plants dotted around the bed. Impossible.

So where is this blog post going? Is it here just to confuse, to pose questions and highlight obstacles?
Don't worry. There is an answer coming up, of sorts.

I came upon a system which sort of gets the best of both worlds. I would continue with the rotation and rotavation. But the new, bigger beds and efficient rows of crops have meant that I can spare some beds for other purposes.I toyed with the idea of leaving some fallow, onto which all my compost would go throughout the year. This is a component of no dig gardening and I may incorporate this to some extent in the future.  But instead I decided to allow myself the luxury of having whole beds bursting with colourful flower mixes scattered around the veg plot. One in each quarter of the rotation.
Last year's bee mix which I have
allowed to come back naturally
This would allow me to have neat, ordered rows of vegetables but the appearance of the whole would be much more aesthetically pleasing and more wildlife friendly too, especially for pollinators.
It worked quite well last year, but I still have large amounts of bare soil. By the time the early potato beds are being cleared, the bean beds are only just getting going.
There was none of this bare earth at the Green Backyard. As the potatoes were coming out, the beans (or something else) would grow into the vacant space. And what about those mixed crops? Surely not the product of complete gardening ignorance?

So I asked. And in the reply I heard words like "polyculture" and "successional growth".
I got home and started looking these up and, to be quite honest, I found very little information on them. Polyculture seems to be an area of permaculture, which I have never really got into. It seems to me to work best in warmer climes.
Anyway, I eventually found titbits of information. The principle is that you try not to grow any plant next to another one of itself. That way there is no obvious target for pests, which are confused by the array of colours and shapes. It is also more difficult for diseases and fungal threats to jump from plant to plant. That all makes sense, but what happens to your rotation, that integral principle of organic gardening? And how do you stop the weeds taking over? And how do you protect your peas and brassicas if they're dotted all over the place?
brassica bed - the whole rotation system seems
perfectly designed for growing brassicas
I understand all about working with nature, but I have come to realise that the ideal is not always practical. I actually don't really want to find caterpillars in my caulis or slugs in my lettuce. Nor though, quite definitely, do I want my food or garden polluted with nasty chemicals. I suspect that when it comes to it, even with my current system, I am actually working with nature a lot more than most gardeners.

I eventually got hold of a book with a couple of pages devoted to polyculture.The answer to my question on rotation was simpler than I thought possible. It basically said that, if you dot plants fairly randomly (even if there is a planting pattern in each bed), you are unlikely to end up growing the same type of crop in the same place year after year. Simple! Okay, you may (will) get some crops going into the same ground, but it will not be on a large or long enough scale to create any significant problems. You are far more likely to attract pests and diseases by growing monoculture clumps. If you're still really hung up by wanting a strict rotation in place, you could always go to the effort of planning the whole plot out square foot by square foot. Depends how much spare time you have on those long winter nights, I guess.
I think, though, that I am more attracted to the former. That way, plants can be allowed to self seed randomly too. If there are too many, they can always be taken out, or moved to where you want them.

Polyculture also has a unique approach to controlling weeds. Firstly, it's basically a minimal digging system, which means that your perennials and self-seeded waifs and strays can escape the ravages of the rotavator. Instead, you scatter the ground with salad seeds (lettuces, radishes, mustard) mixed in with some seeds of plants which take longer to mature. You then cover it with a layer of compost. The idea is that the salad plants mature quickly and fill the ground. As you pick them, other crops mature to fill their space. Successional growing. (Not quite the same as successional planting, which is where you sow a crop every couple of weeks so they don't all mature at eh same time).
Now, I am not quite so convinced by this. Firstly, I would have enough lettuces, leaves and radishes to feed a small army. Secondly, even if I didn't turn the soil, my fenland soil is so fertile that I really don't think I could hold the weeds at bay. In a small vegetable plot, I could hand weed, but on a larger scale this would not be practical.

Anyway, apart from that, I really like the idea of polyculture. It is sort of what I was aiming for in the first place, except that it introduces the idea of mixing the crops.
So I have decided to experiment with one bed, where all my spare seedlings have gone. I have even scattered some salad seeds in a small area.
My suspicion is that I will end up with a mix of growing methods. Each quarter of the veg plot, which is arranged like a wheel, will still have sections devoted to roots, spuds, brassicas or beans 'n' peas. I will keep the beds devoted to flower mixes. They can stay there from year to year. But I will introduce a few polyculture beds too.
Hopefully the systems won't clash. That way I can continue to experiment and the best system will, eventually, make itself apparent.

Thursday 18 June 2015

Herby Crackers

Fresh turnips and beetroot from the polytunnel
and a selection of herbs plucked from the herb patch
Sunday was Veg Group day.
On the menu was a propagation masterclass by Steve, including the dark art of grafting, as well as a barbecue lunch. Top of the crops this month was strawberries. The sun hadn't shone enough yet on my own strawberry patch to rustle up something strawberryish to take along, so instead I concentrated on the discussion topic for the gathering which was herbs.
I started the veg group at the same time as the blokes baking group, under the general umbrella of the Fenland Smallholders Club. Over a year later and both groups are still going strong, which pleases me. The idea of the veg group is that we gather once a month at someone's place and discuss growing. We usually end up going off topic and discussing all sorts of other things, but one aspect which I am keen we hold on to is how we use our food once we've grown it. We all bring something along for the table and I encourage people to incorporate the Top of the Crops.
But with no strawberries, I was damned if I was going to go out and buy some, especially knowing that within a couple of weeks we will be facing a glut of the things. Not that I didn't thoroughly enjoy the pavlova which somebody brought along.
But I opted to go down the herb route. I knew that somebody would bring along a herb bread. The cheesy herby scones that I made for the last blokes baking would work, but for some reason I got into my head the idea of making herb biscuits, each with a different sort of herb to try.
I eventually settled on a recipe for herb crackers, which I started making at 8.30pm on Saturday evening. If they didn't turn out well, I would be up late thinking of something else to make!

I adapted the recipe I found quite a lot, so here's what I came up with.

To make 1 small ball of dough, enough for about 20 small crackers:

75g flour
1/4 tsp salt
about 3 teaspoons of your chosen fresh herb, finely chopped

Mix the above ingredients together in a bowl.

Add 1 tbsp. oil and 35 - 40 ml water.
Quickly mix up with a wooden spoon until it forms a ball of dough. Knead very briefly to bring it into a ball, adding more flour or water as necessary to make it the right consistency for rolling.

4 different versions ready to be rolled and cooked
Roll the dough as thinly as you can on a sheet of silicone or parchment. Dip a knife into flour and score the dough to make individual crackers. You can go right through to the silicone.
Finally prick each cracker several times with a fork to stop them puffing up. Sprinkle with coarse salt if you wish. This gives the crackers a pretzelly taste, but the salt does mask the herby taste a little.

Rolled and scored, ready for the oven.
Place the silicone / parchment onto a baking try and bake at 180C (fan oven) or 200C (non fan) for about 15 minutes, until lightly browned.

Et voila!
The end result was so tasty that, by the time it occurred to me to take a photo, there was just this one cracker left!

My favourites were the rosemary crackers, but the others were popular too. This time I made mint, sage, lemon balm, sweet yarrow (English Mace) and oregano.
How much herb you add to your recipe is completely up to you. It's a ridiculously cheap, easy and quick recipe, so feel free to experiment.

Tuesday 16 June 2015

Rocket stove

Rocket stove kits

No, I have not entered the world of rocket engineering.
A rocket stove is a small but powerful cooker which runs on small sticks. Astonishingly it can reach white hot temperatures, despite its simplicity. And because it burns so hot it is incredibly efficient, burning everything in the wood which is combustible and leaving very little waste indeed.

The rocket stove was invented back in the 1980s and looks deceptively simple. It's basically an elbow shaped tube, which can be fairly simply knocked up out of tin cans, which sits in a bigger can full of insulation. The ratios though are important. Without boring you with the measurements and engineering theory, the airflow and height of the flue need to be just right to ensure that just enough oxygen is supplied to the fire, not too much and not too little.

The rocket stove has big implications for developing countries. Wood is a precious and declining resource across much of the world, so the more efficiently it can be used the better. Every move towards making wood sustainable is a move in the right direction. Cut the amount of wood needed for fuel, cut the time and energy used in collecting it. The fact that only small sticks are required is a bonus too.
The rocket stove is now used extensively in disaster zones. It is cheap, easy to produce, portable and green. A triumph of alternative technology. The central flue, the most important part, can be cheaply manufactured from ceramic, which is the best material.

So when the chance came up to make our own rocket stove at the Green Backyard in Peterborough, for free, well we jumped at it. I am not pretending that we will replace our gas cooker, electric oven, microwave and kettle all with a rocket stove, but I find the Green Backyard an inspiring place to go and if I could come back with my own rocket stove, all the better!




We arrived to find out that we didn't need to improvise the whole thing out of baked bean tins, which need regularly replacing as they disintegrate under the phenomenal heat produced within. For we were getting specially made stainless steel elbows. Posh ones! - which should hopefully last several years.
Our tutor for the day, Bob, clearly knew more than we needed to know, but he kept himself to giving us a very interesting history of the rocket stove and just enough technical information to be of interest.
I'd never used metal nibblers before, but I want some now. They made short work of cutting holes in the outer can to fit the flue. A few adjustments and we were ready to fill the void with vermiculite. The three bolts coming out of the top are for the pot, kettle or griddle to sit on. They are adjustable but basically need to sit about an inch above the top of the flue.

Anyway, enough of the technicalities.

Renee from the Green Back Yard
chats to 2 of the course participants
as they head home, rocket stoves in hand.
Enough to say that we had a lovely day and came away with not one but two rocket stoves. I feel some outdoor cooking coming along.

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