Well, the Autumn Equinox is nearly here, and the the other traditional herald of the new gardening year happened this week - the first 2009 seed catalogues belly flopped onto the doormat. Strange how the weather has finally become Summery for more than two days in a row now that we're packing hot weather things away. Never mind. Maybe the weather is working a three year rota, and 2009 will be as sunny as 2003 and 2006 - hopefully not quite as hot as 2006 though. There's no point in the weather being too hot to move about in.
As hinted in the title, I've been wondering if the year as circle analogy is entirely right. I seems to me the peak of Summer and trough of Midwinter Solstice time, plus the way work seems to be hinged by the Equinoxes, seem to hint at more of a diamond shape. Nothing to do with jewellery, so don't worry about me. I'd still rather a pebble from a favourite beach than something sparkly and over girly.
Spent part of the day planting bulbs. A decorative pot of tulips and narcissi to brighten the front of the house when most of the herbs are dormant, and LOADS of Saffron crocus. The Saffron I planted last year yielded a few threads, which I carefully saved and used sparingly. When the plants died down I carefully lifted and stored the bulbs. On coming to replant, I realised that those bulbs had multiplied about five fold last Spring, and instead of two sparsely planted troughs, this year I have two large pots and one trough, much more closely planted, plus a seed tray of bulbs ready to transplant to a raised bed at the allotment as soon as it's ready.
Saffron is one of those plants it's easy to obsess over - sparse cropping, but made worthwhile by being expensive to buy and good to look at. At least I can get a decent amount of bulbs to replant - maybe I should keep that in mind when looking for potential cash crops.
Events of the past week have brought the need for a level of independence from the conventional commercial world to the fore again. At least action has been taken on both sides of the Atlantic to prevent total meltdown, even if it meant some of the most guilty escaped reprimand. One other positive thing to take from this is the willingness of the Bush administration to take such a huge chunk of government funds to plug that gap. Does that mean that they have accepted that Obama will will the presidency and have to clear up their mess? The last thing the world needs is any more of the evangelical inquisition. Much has been made of Sarah Palin's unsound views on women's rights, but McCain's views are just as neanderthal and damaging. I could go into more detail, but the prospect is horrifying for the whole world. Just have to think positively.
Plan to spend as much of tomorrow at the allotment. Taken some sausages out of the freezer and splashed out on a couple of tins of baked beans with ring pull tops so we don't have to break our day for lunch. Much of the day will be spent breaking ground for raised beds and levelling a spot under the trees to put the shed up, but tasks suggested by the Wartime Weekend Gardener for this week include:
Tidy the Rhubarb bed, removing any dead leaves and adding a new layer of manure mulch.
Lift any of this year's onions still in the ground. Take advantage of any remaining dry weather to harden the skins outside before storing them. If not, store them on wire racks indoors for a few days.
If you have any spare ground, start thinking about ordering some fruit bushes or trees to plant late Autumn or early Winter. Having lost a couple of apple trees in the move, this is pretty high up my list. I'd suggest looking at the Common Ground website to see if there are any Apple Day events near you in the next few weeks. I know Berrington Hall in Herefordshire are holding their Apple Day event next weekend. We went to that last year and it was excellent - a lovely walled garden packed full of apple trees and a gorgeous setting, looking out towards the Black Mountains.
Yes, I urge one and all to have fruity thoughts, this and every weekend!
Saturday, 20 September 2008
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Belonging - a forgotten art?
Among her multitude of acts against this country in the 1980's, one phrase uttered by Margaret Thatcher probably goes to the core of the the way life seems to have changed for the worst:
"There's no such thing as Society"
This gave permission to those who wanted to get ahead at the expense of others, and paved the way for many of the problems we are experiencing today. Houses became little more than a commodity, to be traded for the most profit to the detriment of those who most needed them. Education became a status symbol, as parents decided their precious darlings were too good to mix with the locals and either drove them for miles or removed them from the secular state system entirely. We now have children who can't cross the road on their own, are unwilling or unable to make friends at home, or join gangs in an attempt to feel wanted or part of something.
Another major crime of those years was what MacMillan called "selling the family silver" - the privatisation of the many nationalised industries and utilities. The short term benefits are long gone and we are now reaping the whirlwind - especially with the energy companies. It is difficult to go off grid or use solid fuels such as wood if you live in town, so most of the country, and in particular the poorest sectors, are being held to ransom by energy companies who claim they have to raise prices because of the cost of oil. In reality a) they stockpiled oil before the price rocketed, b) the oil price has gone down substantially and above all c) they don't want to drop the price as it would mean lower profits and less money in dividends for their shareholders.
Over the years, many sections have been targetted for abuse - single parents, asylum seekers, disaffected youth, the unemployed. All have been the scapegoat of a given moment, blamed for any given problem. One section of society that has never been singled out in this way, but truly are Parasites are those who gain money by holding shares in companies they have never worked for. The dividends they earn are taken from money that should either have been used to pay better wages to the workers, or to reduce prices. If the great lie on the early 20th century was (as written by Wilfred Owen) Dulce decorum est pro patria more, then the lie of the past theiry years or so is that the Captains of Industry are the wealth creators, as opposed to the shop or office floor workers, or consumers in general.
It is often, and probably accurately said, that the British don't have the stomach for protest, but we do have the ability to ask awkward questions. Ask you energy provider what proportion of your bill went to shareholders and directors' salaries. Ask them when you will get a refund to take into account the drop in the oil price. If you have a pension fund, ask your provider if it is an ethical fund which excludes shares from former national assets.
Coming from Gordon Brown, suggestions to cut down on energy use are patronising, bordering on Marie Antoinette land. This government, as any other, is beholden to, if not controlled by big industry, and afraid if not actually unable to act i a way that will benefit the majority of voters. However, using less energy will be to the detriment of the energy companies, and where your health allows it, there are many enjoyable ways to stay warm without turning up or maybe even switching on, the heating. Cosy socks, snuggly jumpers, hot drinks, home made casseroles, porridge in the morning, a brisk walk to the next stop rather than waiting for the bus, an early night under the covers. All save money and keep it from the corporations.
I was lucky this weekend to mix with people who in spite of this every man for himself ethos, are happy to do something for other for no return:
Yesterday morning I pottered about, deadheading and tidying my herb bed at the front of the house, and chatted to the man next door. He was adding a few thyme plants to his front garden, and I gave him some pot marigold seeds. He has taken it upon himself to start planting up an untidy grassy patch at the end of the close, by a block of garages, so we were discussing what else could be planted there. It's a patch of ground that could be really lovely, south facing and sheltered in the main, about 5 foot deep and the width of the three houses it backs on to. I have offered a couple of my hollyhocks from the front bed, as they have romped away and smothered my bay bush. Everything planted so far has been cuttings, divisions and spare seedlings, including Acanthus, Rowans and Kerria, so that would fit in. I'm tempted to lift the Bird Cherry saplings at the allotment to plant there and provide colour from blossoms early in the year.
Later in the afternoon, we went to our allotment society's show. We didn't enter anything, but it was a chance for everyone to get together and chat. We were walking to the bus stop and a couple who live in the next street and have a plot near ours offered us a lift, which was really nice. Even the prizegiving was fun. There's one man who's really serious about show vegetables, and wins almost everything he enters. Thanks to him, our society is in line for the best club prize from the town show. Anyway, they read out a list of all his wins at the start, so he collected all his to get them out of the way. There was someone who won almost as many in the fruit and cut flower categories, but for amusement value they called him up for each prize individually. Everyone, whether they had an allotment or nor, whether they had produce entered or not, was made to feel welcome and part of the event.
This is in a suburb of Greater London. Not everyone has surrendered to the every man for himself ethos, and they're not all of an older generation. Our neighbour of the same age, if not younger than us, and the winners of the main allotment prizes (not including the children's competitions) spanned several decades.
After that we went down to the allotment to plant our first batch of Autumn onions. Seemed appropriate - the show signalling the end of one growing season, and the onions the first crop planted for next year. One of the women on the plot came down with a couple of friends after the show and had tea on her plot, with one of the near tame foxes (she treated them for mange last year) hanging round on the offchance of leftover cake.
Our new little allotment pal, the ginger near kitten, popped by when we were filling the watering cans and came to investigate. He was most upset that the dip tanks didn't contain fish Laughing
As we left the site, the moon was rising over the woods, all big and butter yellow. A lovely end to the day.
Was up early today as Sheba has taken to sneaking onto the pillows and I was woken by fishy breath in my face. I can hear wrens and woodpeckers and have just watched a squadron of geese circle and land on the lake. We'll be heading over the allotment later (hope to catch Countryfile first as they may be footage of the Rare Breeds Show we went to a couple of weeks ago) and hopefully it will be as productive as our last visit.
The Wartime Weekend Gardener also reflects that the year is turning. The only task given for this week is to thin the winter roots, such as turnips and swedes, plus a quick run over with the hoe to keep on top of any weed seedlings are they emerge. It may have been a bad year for many crops, but the weeds always thrive!
"There's no such thing as Society"
This gave permission to those who wanted to get ahead at the expense of others, and paved the way for many of the problems we are experiencing today. Houses became little more than a commodity, to be traded for the most profit to the detriment of those who most needed them. Education became a status symbol, as parents decided their precious darlings were too good to mix with the locals and either drove them for miles or removed them from the secular state system entirely. We now have children who can't cross the road on their own, are unwilling or unable to make friends at home, or join gangs in an attempt to feel wanted or part of something.
Another major crime of those years was what MacMillan called "selling the family silver" - the privatisation of the many nationalised industries and utilities. The short term benefits are long gone and we are now reaping the whirlwind - especially with the energy companies. It is difficult to go off grid or use solid fuels such as wood if you live in town, so most of the country, and in particular the poorest sectors, are being held to ransom by energy companies who claim they have to raise prices because of the cost of oil. In reality a) they stockpiled oil before the price rocketed, b) the oil price has gone down substantially and above all c) they don't want to drop the price as it would mean lower profits and less money in dividends for their shareholders.
Over the years, many sections have been targetted for abuse - single parents, asylum seekers, disaffected youth, the unemployed. All have been the scapegoat of a given moment, blamed for any given problem. One section of society that has never been singled out in this way, but truly are Parasites are those who gain money by holding shares in companies they have never worked for. The dividends they earn are taken from money that should either have been used to pay better wages to the workers, or to reduce prices. If the great lie on the early 20th century was (as written by Wilfred Owen) Dulce decorum est pro patria more, then the lie of the past theiry years or so is that the Captains of Industry are the wealth creators, as opposed to the shop or office floor workers, or consumers in general.
It is often, and probably accurately said, that the British don't have the stomach for protest, but we do have the ability to ask awkward questions. Ask you energy provider what proportion of your bill went to shareholders and directors' salaries. Ask them when you will get a refund to take into account the drop in the oil price. If you have a pension fund, ask your provider if it is an ethical fund which excludes shares from former national assets.
Coming from Gordon Brown, suggestions to cut down on energy use are patronising, bordering on Marie Antoinette land. This government, as any other, is beholden to, if not controlled by big industry, and afraid if not actually unable to act i a way that will benefit the majority of voters. However, using less energy will be to the detriment of the energy companies, and where your health allows it, there are many enjoyable ways to stay warm without turning up or maybe even switching on, the heating. Cosy socks, snuggly jumpers, hot drinks, home made casseroles, porridge in the morning, a brisk walk to the next stop rather than waiting for the bus, an early night under the covers. All save money and keep it from the corporations.
I was lucky this weekend to mix with people who in spite of this every man for himself ethos, are happy to do something for other for no return:
Yesterday morning I pottered about, deadheading and tidying my herb bed at the front of the house, and chatted to the man next door. He was adding a few thyme plants to his front garden, and I gave him some pot marigold seeds. He has taken it upon himself to start planting up an untidy grassy patch at the end of the close, by a block of garages, so we were discussing what else could be planted there. It's a patch of ground that could be really lovely, south facing and sheltered in the main, about 5 foot deep and the width of the three houses it backs on to. I have offered a couple of my hollyhocks from the front bed, as they have romped away and smothered my bay bush. Everything planted so far has been cuttings, divisions and spare seedlings, including Acanthus, Rowans and Kerria, so that would fit in. I'm tempted to lift the Bird Cherry saplings at the allotment to plant there and provide colour from blossoms early in the year.
Later in the afternoon, we went to our allotment society's show. We didn't enter anything, but it was a chance for everyone to get together and chat. We were walking to the bus stop and a couple who live in the next street and have a plot near ours offered us a lift, which was really nice. Even the prizegiving was fun. There's one man who's really serious about show vegetables, and wins almost everything he enters. Thanks to him, our society is in line for the best club prize from the town show. Anyway, they read out a list of all his wins at the start, so he collected all his to get them out of the way. There was someone who won almost as many in the fruit and cut flower categories, but for amusement value they called him up for each prize individually. Everyone, whether they had an allotment or nor, whether they had produce entered or not, was made to feel welcome and part of the event.
This is in a suburb of Greater London. Not everyone has surrendered to the every man for himself ethos, and they're not all of an older generation. Our neighbour of the same age, if not younger than us, and the winners of the main allotment prizes (not including the children's competitions) spanned several decades.
After that we went down to the allotment to plant our first batch of Autumn onions. Seemed appropriate - the show signalling the end of one growing season, and the onions the first crop planted for next year. One of the women on the plot came down with a couple of friends after the show and had tea on her plot, with one of the near tame foxes (she treated them for mange last year) hanging round on the offchance of leftover cake.
Our new little allotment pal, the ginger near kitten, popped by when we were filling the watering cans and came to investigate. He was most upset that the dip tanks didn't contain fish Laughing
As we left the site, the moon was rising over the woods, all big and butter yellow. A lovely end to the day.
Was up early today as Sheba has taken to sneaking onto the pillows and I was woken by fishy breath in my face. I can hear wrens and woodpeckers and have just watched a squadron of geese circle and land on the lake. We'll be heading over the allotment later (hope to catch Countryfile first as they may be footage of the Rare Breeds Show we went to a couple of weeks ago) and hopefully it will be as productive as our last visit.
The Wartime Weekend Gardener also reflects that the year is turning. The only task given for this week is to thin the winter roots, such as turnips and swedes, plus a quick run over with the hoe to keep on top of any weed seedlings are they emerge. It may have been a bad year for many crops, but the weeds always thrive!
Saturday, 6 September 2008
Wild Things
Dotted around the housing estate where we live are hedgerow plants. Those of us in the know make use of that. Directly opposite the house is a little thicket that includes a Cherry Plum tree. Earlier this "Summer" I picked a couple of ripe fruits from it. Very nice - sweet and juicy. On the path that leads down to the brook and the lake there is a blackthorn (sloe) bush. It seems that this year has been a bed one for Sloe berries, and the shrub on the path only has a couple of berries on it. Barely enough for a miniature sized bottle of sloe gin. Still, better than nothing.
The garden maintenance guys have done for the brambles in the visible parts of the estate, but thankfully we have an unmanicured area near the house and I've gathered a few snack sized portions in the past couple of weeks. I've also spotted some good clumps of elderberries destined for the preserving pan.
But my favourite wild fruit is only just starting to ripen - the rose hip. There are only a couple of Dog Roses nearby, but much of the estate is hedged with the more luscious Rosa rugosa. If I can bag enough before the maintenance men hack things down for the winter, I hope to make a few jars of Rose Hip jelly.
The estate roads are also lined with hazel bushes. But the squirrels always beat us to the nuts. Earlier today, however, I was able to take advantage of the hazel. Someone was cutting back the shrubbery near their house, and I spoke to them and bagged some decent hazel poles for the allotment. There were some smaller branches too, some destined to be pea sticks, other to make a rustic trellis.
Hope no-one has been hit by the floods. Some of the roads in Enfield have been hit by flash floods this past week, but so far we've bee unaffected. My little rainfall gauge in the garden has recorded well over 2 inches of rain in the past week. I'm starting to worry that the weather will turn the soil at the allotment against us and we'll struggle to complete the raised beds in time for next spring.
Providing you're not under water, The Wartime Weekend Gardener this week instructs you to:
Thin tomato trusses to give the fruits the best chance of ripening. I seriously doubt any of mine will ripen now. I forsee a green tomato chutney making session of the horizon.
Oh well, I bought some tulip bulbs and the first batch of over wintering onion sets today. I can get started on planting for next year's harvest.
The garden maintenance guys have done for the brambles in the visible parts of the estate, but thankfully we have an unmanicured area near the house and I've gathered a few snack sized portions in the past couple of weeks. I've also spotted some good clumps of elderberries destined for the preserving pan.
But my favourite wild fruit is only just starting to ripen - the rose hip. There are only a couple of Dog Roses nearby, but much of the estate is hedged with the more luscious Rosa rugosa. If I can bag enough before the maintenance men hack things down for the winter, I hope to make a few jars of Rose Hip jelly.
The estate roads are also lined with hazel bushes. But the squirrels always beat us to the nuts. Earlier today, however, I was able to take advantage of the hazel. Someone was cutting back the shrubbery near their house, and I spoke to them and bagged some decent hazel poles for the allotment. There were some smaller branches too, some destined to be pea sticks, other to make a rustic trellis.
Hope no-one has been hit by the floods. Some of the roads in Enfield have been hit by flash floods this past week, but so far we've bee unaffected. My little rainfall gauge in the garden has recorded well over 2 inches of rain in the past week. I'm starting to worry that the weather will turn the soil at the allotment against us and we'll struggle to complete the raised beds in time for next spring.
Providing you're not under water, The Wartime Weekend Gardener this week instructs you to:
Thin tomato trusses to give the fruits the best chance of ripening. I seriously doubt any of mine will ripen now. I forsee a green tomato chutney making session of the horizon.
Oh well, I bought some tulip bulbs and the first batch of over wintering onion sets today. I can get started on planting for next year's harvest.
Sunday, 31 August 2008
There’s a feeling I get when I look to the west........
....and at around 7pm on Saturday it was a mixture of exhilaration and vertigo.
I was standing on the top of Painswick beacon, an Iron Age hill fort just south of Gloucester. The expected orientation diagram at the peak was missing (presumably stolen for scrap metal value), so I couldn't say for certain how many counties were visible, but to the north I could see the hills far beyond Gloucester and Cheltenham, definitely to the the Malverns in Worcestershire and Herefordshire, and to the west I could see far beyond the Severn estuary into Wales - to Gwent and Monmouth. I've visited hill forts before, but this one was at the very peak of a very steep hill, with deep valleys all around, and looking down towards the Severn, I was struck by the fact that it felt like I was looking down on the Black Mountains and the distant Brecon Beacons. The idea was dizzying.
All around in the fields below machines were out cutting and bringing in the wheat and barley. In fact, even as night fell and we drove home through the Cotswolds and the Chilterns, little beams of light were dotted around the fields, as the combines worked to get as much of the harvest safely in before the storms broke.
At least we managed to squeeze in another reasonably sunny day in August. Today were we held back from working at the allotment by the rain, which at times afforded a description beyond torrential. In fact, some of the roads at the top of the hill in Enfield were flooded and practically impassable. I saw drains overflowing and gushing towards houses. Granted - far worse in happening in the Carribbean and heading for New Orleans, and I've been caught up in a flood in the Wye Valley before, but we're talking about 200 feet above sea level on the edge of London - it seemed unreal.
Anyway, September is here, and the Wartime Weekend Gardener sets out the following tasks for this week:
Start lifting maincrop potatoes. We'll be starting this next week with some trepidation after the blight hit the foliage. I have no way of knowing if the disease reached the tubers until I see them. Doesn't help my mood that some of the tomato plants in the back garden have now been lost to blight. The high humidity of the past week did for them.
Also sow aomw onions to overwinter, I'll probably leave this, and wait for onion, garlic and shallot sets to hit the shops at the end of the month, which will signal the start of another year of growing.
I was standing on the top of Painswick beacon, an Iron Age hill fort just south of Gloucester. The expected orientation diagram at the peak was missing (presumably stolen for scrap metal value), so I couldn't say for certain how many counties were visible, but to the north I could see the hills far beyond Gloucester and Cheltenham, definitely to the the Malverns in Worcestershire and Herefordshire, and to the west I could see far beyond the Severn estuary into Wales - to Gwent and Monmouth. I've visited hill forts before, but this one was at the very peak of a very steep hill, with deep valleys all around, and looking down towards the Severn, I was struck by the fact that it felt like I was looking down on the Black Mountains and the distant Brecon Beacons. The idea was dizzying.
All around in the fields below machines were out cutting and bringing in the wheat and barley. In fact, even as night fell and we drove home through the Cotswolds and the Chilterns, little beams of light were dotted around the fields, as the combines worked to get as much of the harvest safely in before the storms broke.
At least we managed to squeeze in another reasonably sunny day in August. Today were we held back from working at the allotment by the rain, which at times afforded a description beyond torrential. In fact, some of the roads at the top of the hill in Enfield were flooded and practically impassable. I saw drains overflowing and gushing towards houses. Granted - far worse in happening in the Carribbean and heading for New Orleans, and I've been caught up in a flood in the Wye Valley before, but we're talking about 200 feet above sea level on the edge of London - it seemed unreal.
Anyway, September is here, and the Wartime Weekend Gardener sets out the following tasks for this week:
Start lifting maincrop potatoes. We'll be starting this next week with some trepidation after the blight hit the foliage. I have no way of knowing if the disease reached the tubers until I see them. Doesn't help my mood that some of the tomato plants in the back garden have now been lost to blight. The high humidity of the past week did for them.
Also sow aomw onions to overwinter, I'll probably leave this, and wait for onion, garlic and shallot sets to hit the shops at the end of the month, which will signal the start of another year of growing.
Saturday, 23 August 2008
Oops! Missed a week
It wasn't until the middle of this week that I realised I hadn't posted a blog last weekend. A few things conspired to reduce my internet access.
I WASN'T watching the Olympics. Well, not all the time. Blight appeared at the allotment so we had to cut down all the potato foliage, lay sheets of newspaper over the surface and then cover with an extra layer of mulch (in a feeble attempt to reduce the likelihood of blight spores washing down to the actual spuds).
And the cat took to sleeping on the desk. Specifically on the mouse mat (and mouse).
Hopefully the Bank Holiday will allow me enough time to get back on track before the real world gets in the way again.
Anyway, things the book says you should have done last week:
Lift Second Early potatoes. For reasons mentioned this has to wait a couple of weeks. If there are enough unblemished tubers, I may try entering some at the allotment association show.
Sow some more lettuces (and salad leaves) for late Summer.
Feed tomato plants (seaweed mixture is probably the best for this)
And this week:
Pinch out any new growth on Runner Bean plants so they can concentrate on setting pods.
Sow turnips for late Winter and early Spring use.
Sow Spring Cabbages
Now that instructions are turning to preparation for next year's crops, you know the year is on the turn. The schools will be back the week after next, and then it will be the Equinox and time to look for onion sets and the whole cycle starts again.
I WASN'T watching the Olympics. Well, not all the time. Blight appeared at the allotment so we had to cut down all the potato foliage, lay sheets of newspaper over the surface and then cover with an extra layer of mulch (in a feeble attempt to reduce the likelihood of blight spores washing down to the actual spuds).
And the cat took to sleeping on the desk. Specifically on the mouse mat (and mouse).
Hopefully the Bank Holiday will allow me enough time to get back on track before the real world gets in the way again.
Anyway, things the book says you should have done last week:
Lift Second Early potatoes. For reasons mentioned this has to wait a couple of weeks. If there are enough unblemished tubers, I may try entering some at the allotment association show.
Sow some more lettuces (and salad leaves) for late Summer.
Feed tomato plants (seaweed mixture is probably the best for this)
And this week:
Pinch out any new growth on Runner Bean plants so they can concentrate on setting pods.
Sow turnips for late Winter and early Spring use.
Sow Spring Cabbages
Now that instructions are turning to preparation for next year's crops, you know the year is on the turn. The schools will be back the week after next, and then it will be the Equinox and time to look for onion sets and the whole cycle starts again.
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Remind me what date it is.......
Here we are, the height of the British Summer. Chucking it down again - the view out of my window is slightly different. The church spire and chimney of the hospital incinerator that usually dominate the horizon are hidden by the murk. The trees in the woods the other side of the lake are starting to become less distinct, melding into a deep grey green mist.
As often happens, the middle of the first week of August was punctuated by thunderstorms. But being slap bang in the middle of approach routes for Heathrow, Stansted and Luton airports, round here you have to stop and listen carefully to differentiate rumbles of thunder from another bloody plane.
Much as I would like to blame the unseasonal weather on a disruption of precipitation patterns caused by the fires of war, or industrial pollution, I fear that a theory I've touched on previously is to blame. Whenever there is an astronomical phenomena visible in the UK, the weather is guaranteed to be lousy. The Perseid meteor showers should be peaking right now, and I bet that behind that blanket of soggy grey cloud, they're putting on a show that looks like a cross between the opening sequence of Day of the Triffids and the firework display at yesterday's opening ceremony at the Olympics.
Not that I sat down to watch the whole spectacle - caught the tale end once I'd had my Murder She Wrote induced afternoon nap. I predicted how the flame would be lit - so much for the big secret. When I saw the highlights, I found it overwhelming. We have to accept that most of the work has been done by effective slave labour, so a vast swathe of the expense of anyone else trying to equal or outdo the event can be disregarded. Maybe London should accept this and downgrade - have the teams preceded into th arena by Chad & Dave on a Reliant Robin pickup. (Not having Damon Albarn or Keith Allen and his decendents involved would go some way to proving the existence of at least one god).
Of course, the Ancient Greek games also called for the cessation of all wars for the duration. Are you listening Mr Putin? (Or your puppet Medvedev for that matter).
In spite of the erratic weather, we had a great time last weekend. On Sunday we travelled up to the Norfolk coast, to the Norfolk Smallholders Show, held in the grounds of Sheringham Hall. We were fortunate to miss the worst of the storms in the morning, and the weather was dry for the duration of the show. It was a small, communal rather than commercial event. All the exhibitors were local, and most were smallholders. We sampled great ice creams, jams, chutneys and cakes, buying some to take home or picnic on. There was a fun dog show, including three generations of one of my favourite breeds of dog - the Spinone. At the stall where we sampled and purchased some fine chutneys, we also bought some more fruit bushes. These included a blackcurrant bush that was so laden with fruit that I picked enough to fill one of my plastic lunch tubs when we got it home.
After the show, we drove to the beach just west of the town of Sheringham. But within minutes of arriving, the wind changed direction and the storm clouds ripped open and chucked down on us. So rather than the planned beach walk, we sat in the van, drinking hot chocolate and eating (fantastic) pork pies and chips. Eventually the rain eased enough for us to continue our journey, so we drove on as far as Wells next the Sea, stopping along the way at a seafood stall to buy some Cromer crab, before heading inland and returning to London.
The following day we set off to the Cotswolds, to the Wildlife Park near Burford. They have just
opened a new enclosure - "Walking with Lemurs". This is a large netted and gated area which you walk along a path, and lemurs - not just Ruffed and Ring Tailed, but Black, Bamboo and Gentle lemurs and even Sifakas - roam at will around you. Food and drink is strictly forbidden. On the day we visited, the lemurs had managed to steal a child's ice cream, and I saw one make a grab for a carrier bag in which a packet of crisps were visible. I also saw little hands trying to dip into bags and pockets. The Ring Tails were fairly shy, though that may be because they had month old young, and the pack were staying close. The most sociable and inquisitive were the Black lemurs, who held court on the hand rails along the path, welcoming attention from all but the most boisterous children. It was a delightful experience, and once you've come close to these gentle and confident creatures, you'll realise how vital it is to save them and their habitat.
After our visit to the wildlife park, we paid a flying visit to the Burford Garden centre. A lovely place, granted very posh as befits the area, and chock full of what Edina in Ab Fab used refer to as "gorgeous" things (Emma Bridgewater china etc.). But it's also full of great plants and functional and useful things as well. I exercised self control I thought was beyond me and didn't buy any plants. I did stock up on Nutscene garden twine in several colours, and tree ties to use in the Forest Garden part of the allotment when we finish planting it this Autumn.
After a fortifying snack in a tea room in the village, we headed home, taking the back roads towards Blenheim. We stopped to admire the allotments in the village of Charlbury, and watch the sun set as we drove long the escarpment before hitting the A roads, dual carriageways and even more reluctantly the M25 before getting home.
Our arrival home was brightened by the sighting of a hedgehog making its was towards the hedgerow in the next street. A couple of days later I saw one in front of our house, probably checking the herb bed for slugs and caterpillars. Hopefully some of this year's young will claim our back garden (made more hedgehog safe) as their territory next Spring.
One downside of the wet and humid weather has been the first sign of blight. So far most of our plants seem fine, and with the drop in temperature today I still stand a chance of harvesting a few tomatoes this year in spite of everything (IF they set fruit that it).
I'm sure if I sat through enough of the documentaries on UKTV history I'd be able to compare the weather this year with the summers of the early 1940's. Whatever, the tasks outlined for this week in the Wartime Weekend Gardener are:
Once the tomato plants have formed enough trusses of fruit, pinch out the top of the plants to stop further grown and concentrate on fruit development. With the lousy weather this year, mine are still at the flower stage. All I can do is hope for warm and dry weather through to October to get anything decent.
Check on the onions as they will be almost ready to harvest. The book suggests bending over the onion foliage to encourage bulb ripening. These days there is a school of thought that discourages bending over foliage, as it may shorten storage length.
Whatever, the growing season only has a few weeks to run. One of my local garden centre has just taken delivery of this year's Christmas stock.
As often happens, the middle of the first week of August was punctuated by thunderstorms. But being slap bang in the middle of approach routes for Heathrow, Stansted and Luton airports, round here you have to stop and listen carefully to differentiate rumbles of thunder from another bloody plane.
Much as I would like to blame the unseasonal weather on a disruption of precipitation patterns caused by the fires of war, or industrial pollution, I fear that a theory I've touched on previously is to blame. Whenever there is an astronomical phenomena visible in the UK, the weather is guaranteed to be lousy. The Perseid meteor showers should be peaking right now, and I bet that behind that blanket of soggy grey cloud, they're putting on a show that looks like a cross between the opening sequence of Day of the Triffids and the firework display at yesterday's opening ceremony at the Olympics.
Not that I sat down to watch the whole spectacle - caught the tale end once I'd had my Murder She Wrote induced afternoon nap. I predicted how the flame would be lit - so much for the big secret. When I saw the highlights, I found it overwhelming. We have to accept that most of the work has been done by effective slave labour, so a vast swathe of the expense of anyone else trying to equal or outdo the event can be disregarded. Maybe London should accept this and downgrade - have the teams preceded into th arena by Chad & Dave on a Reliant Robin pickup. (Not having Damon Albarn or Keith Allen and his decendents involved would go some way to proving the existence of at least one god).
Of course, the Ancient Greek games also called for the cessation of all wars for the duration. Are you listening Mr Putin? (Or your puppet Medvedev for that matter).
In spite of the erratic weather, we had a great time last weekend. On Sunday we travelled up to the Norfolk coast, to the Norfolk Smallholders Show, held in the grounds of Sheringham Hall. We were fortunate to miss the worst of the storms in the morning, and the weather was dry for the duration of the show. It was a small, communal rather than commercial event. All the exhibitors were local, and most were smallholders. We sampled great ice creams, jams, chutneys and cakes, buying some to take home or picnic on. There was a fun dog show, including three generations of one of my favourite breeds of dog - the Spinone. At the stall where we sampled and purchased some fine chutneys, we also bought some more fruit bushes. These included a blackcurrant bush that was so laden with fruit that I picked enough to fill one of my plastic lunch tubs when we got it home.
After the show, we drove to the beach just west of the town of Sheringham. But within minutes of arriving, the wind changed direction and the storm clouds ripped open and chucked down on us. So rather than the planned beach walk, we sat in the van, drinking hot chocolate and eating (fantastic) pork pies and chips. Eventually the rain eased enough for us to continue our journey, so we drove on as far as Wells next the Sea, stopping along the way at a seafood stall to buy some Cromer crab, before heading inland and returning to London.
The following day we set off to the Cotswolds, to the Wildlife Park near Burford. They have just
opened a new enclosure - "Walking with Lemurs". This is a large netted and gated area which you walk along a path, and lemurs - not just Ruffed and Ring Tailed, but Black, Bamboo and Gentle lemurs and even Sifakas - roam at will around you. Food and drink is strictly forbidden. On the day we visited, the lemurs had managed to steal a child's ice cream, and I saw one make a grab for a carrier bag in which a packet of crisps were visible. I also saw little hands trying to dip into bags and pockets. The Ring Tails were fairly shy, though that may be because they had month old young, and the pack were staying close. The most sociable and inquisitive were the Black lemurs, who held court on the hand rails along the path, welcoming attention from all but the most boisterous children. It was a delightful experience, and once you've come close to these gentle and confident creatures, you'll realise how vital it is to save them and their habitat.
After our visit to the wildlife park, we paid a flying visit to the Burford Garden centre. A lovely place, granted very posh as befits the area, and chock full of what Edina in Ab Fab used refer to as "gorgeous" things (Emma Bridgewater china etc.). But it's also full of great plants and functional and useful things as well. I exercised self control I thought was beyond me and didn't buy any plants. I did stock up on Nutscene garden twine in several colours, and tree ties to use in the Forest Garden part of the allotment when we finish planting it this Autumn.
After a fortifying snack in a tea room in the village, we headed home, taking the back roads towards Blenheim. We stopped to admire the allotments in the village of Charlbury, and watch the sun set as we drove long the escarpment before hitting the A roads, dual carriageways and even more reluctantly the M25 before getting home.
Our arrival home was brightened by the sighting of a hedgehog making its was towards the hedgerow in the next street. A couple of days later I saw one in front of our house, probably checking the herb bed for slugs and caterpillars. Hopefully some of this year's young will claim our back garden (made more hedgehog safe) as their territory next Spring.
One downside of the wet and humid weather has been the first sign of blight. So far most of our plants seem fine, and with the drop in temperature today I still stand a chance of harvesting a few tomatoes this year in spite of everything (IF they set fruit that it).
I'm sure if I sat through enough of the documentaries on UKTV history I'd be able to compare the weather this year with the summers of the early 1940's. Whatever, the tasks outlined for this week in the Wartime Weekend Gardener are:
Once the tomato plants have formed enough trusses of fruit, pinch out the top of the plants to stop further grown and concentrate on fruit development. With the lousy weather this year, mine are still at the flower stage. All I can do is hope for warm and dry weather through to October to get anything decent.
Check on the onions as they will be almost ready to harvest. The book suggests bending over the onion foliage to encourage bulb ripening. These days there is a school of thought that discourages bending over foliage, as it may shorten storage length.
Whatever, the growing season only has a few weeks to run. One of my local garden centre has just taken delivery of this year's Christmas stock.
Saturday, 2 August 2008
Simple weather forecasting - slight return
| Anyone get to see the Lunar and Solar eclipses this past week? Or was it too cloudy to see anything? Didn't see any of the Lunar eclipse, and I don't know if the reason it got so dark yesterday morning was the 12% blockage of the sun, or just the clouds getting thicker. It has become almost a cast iron certainty that any astronomical event in Britain will coincide with cloudy skies. And with the Perseids meteor showers due shortly, expect a few murky nights. Hoping the weather does improve slightly from this morning's murk, as we're heading off to the north Norfolk coast. It's a place I've been wanting to go for years as I like my sea shores wild. Hopefully I'll be able to get a couple of Cromer crabs for a picnic as well. I spent my birthday in Norfolk forty years ago - at Great Yarmouth. I went to the races with my grandfather. He gave me my own race card and told me to pick a horse in each race. I came out with a profit for the day, so as a pair we more or less broke even. Much like children are brought down to earth by the "Back to School" promotions in shops as soon as the holidays start, gardeners heartened by the start of the Summer harvests are reminded how short time is by the seed companies' Autumn catalogues arriving. But at least it gives you a chance to start planning for next year. There's still time to sow plenty for this year, and it's coming close to time to sow the pleasant sounding but ultimately dull workhorse of the "Hungry Gap" - Spring Cabbage. Throw caution to the wind and sow another row of Cavalo Nero instead. |
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