Bramble ramble...

Of all the seasonal traditions, blackberry picking has to be one of my personal favourites.
Anyone can do it. It's free, it's productive, it's healthy, it doesn't celebrate anyone's death, or terrorise elderly neighbours. It's just you, a bramble bush, a bag and a delicious, versatile fruity treat.
Ah blackberries - that most egalitarian of crops. Accessible to almost everyone, regardless of where you live, with no specialist tools needed to gather or process. 
Almost everyone knows a good blackberry bush. As long as it's not next to a very busy road, they will be fine to eat. (It's maybe a good idea to avoid branches at dog level too ;) )

 I love filling my face as I pick, revelling in that sharp, earthy sun-ripened sweetness! It appeals to my womanly-multi-tasking ethos to go and enjoy the early Autumn weather, to go for a little ramble, and return home with the means to produce all manner of delicious things - jams, cakes, pies, crumbles, wine, liqueurs, sorbets and sponges. And they're full of fibre and vitamins too.
Even a humble bun mixture can be enhanced by the addition of one plump blackberry in the middle of each filled bun case, ready to explode in the mouth with a tangy jam when the bun is eaten! 
I have a lovely, thriving spineless blackberry bush on my allotment. But though the fruits are huge, dark and glossy, the taste just can't compete with its wilder cousins. So every dog walk means I take a tub out, for more free goodies from the field and hedgerow.
Today I'm freezing some for winter desserts. Just as soon as I can stop my boys from eating the tubful I picked this morning...

Who knows where the time goes?

I'm a bad blogger - Summer months have sped away and the year is on the turn.
I've managed to completely miss blogging for June, July and most of August.
I've not been idle though; I've grown and eaten - broad beans, rocket, beetroot, French beans, runner beans, tomatoes, chillies, blackcurrants, potatoes, celery, raspberries, spinach, peas, potatoes, courgettes, squash, strawberries, blackberries, cabbage, and Victoria plums.
I've picked endless sweet peas, goldenrod, marigolds, lavender and verbena for instant colour at home. And used ample handfuls of chives, marjoram, thyme, sage, mint, parsley and oregano in my cooking.
I even wasted a happy couple of hours in the rainy days to paint some markers (pictured below!)
I'm so grateful to have my plot - it provides me with free food, fresh air, exercise, head-space, friendly faces and inspiration.

May the Earth Force be with you

This spiral is by my pond

We may as get something straight before I continue.

I am a hippy!

 I am middle aged, married, 2 children, mortgage, job, sensible shoes, no tattoos or piercings and a nice handbag full of useful things like safety pins, painkillers and hand-cream. I'm not veggie. I favour Yorkshire Teabags over Chai.

 But I am a hippy. Always have been, always will be.

It's a bit of a double life. Mostly hidden. Years ago I wisely decided against calling my children Oak and River and opted for under the radar names. (to be fair, hormones probably played a big part in those name choices!)

The tie-dye hasn't ventured out of the attic for many years.  I don't own anything with fringing any more. Our campervan is plain black and has no flower stickers or peace signs anywhere. I haven't attempted to weave anything with lentils recently. Yoga is a fitness choice, rather than a spiritual path.

But none the less I am a hippy. A tree-hugger. A daisy-chain maker. Why, only last May Day I was dancing round a maypole at a Beltane festival, with flowers in my hair.....

I like to be outside as much as possible, I am solar powered. I walk barefoot when practical. (There are at least 3 people who call me as Moonie-Poo-Foot after a reckless barefoot incident in  a festival field which had previously been enthusiastically used by cows.)

 Most of all, I commune with nature.

 I don't wear gardening gloves, I like to FEEL the earth in my hands, to gauge the warmth and soak up the energy of the earth!

 I like to sit with my arse on the warm bark at the allotment and Smell. Listen. Watch. And just Be. (man!)

We all know gardening is supposed to be great for stress relief. It is, I know!

But I recently learned from a friend that there are various health claims for walking barefoot, and apparently even scientific research to back this up.

It's not just plain old walking barefoot. It's called Earthing and relates specifically to walking barefoot outside on soil, grass, sand - any natural surface.

The health benefits come from the relationship between our bodies and the electrons in the earth. The planet has its own natural charge and we humans seem to do better when we're in direct contact with it. studies have found Earthing changes the electrical activity in the brain, and can benefit moderated heart rate, improve glucose regulation, reduce stress and improve immunity. 

Well I can't walk barefoot on my allotment - too many sharp, ouchy things! But I guess there must be similar benefits from plunging my hands into the earth; feeling the connection, hand weeding round those tiny seedlings, crumbling the rich soil between my hands.

And of course, hand picking my own veg on a sunny day!

Blighted by failure

Here's the thing.
I have had allotments for more than a decade. I love growing stuff. Mostly I manage to make stuff grow! But I am hopeless at growing potatoes....
I always have an excuse - it's too hot. It's too cold. It's too humid. my soil is too clay. Too acidic. Not acidic enough. They were cheap seed potatoes. But actually, between ourselves, I just don't seem to have the knack.
Every year I try a different method. Trenches, wrapping them in newspaper, manuring, not manuring,  throwing in a few slug pellets.....
Doesn't make any difference.
 My potatoes get blight or refuse stubbornly to flower. Or some horrible beastie puts precise holes all the way through the middle of each potato. Or slugs just gorge themselves on the whole crop.

Bwwwahahaha lads, she's going to try growing us again!

Now, don't talk to me about your fancy-pants potato-sack growing system, they DO work and i have managed to grow a couple of pounds worth of salad spuds in them but they are more of a ''grow something on your patio'' sort of thing. And don't flaunt your lovely raised beds at me - I don't have the money to buy them or the expertise to make them.
I have an old-school allotment, with masses of soily space, crying out to be filled with row upon row of perfect potatoes.
But come harvesting time, I am always doomed to disappointment.
On the other plots all over the allotment, people gleefully wheel their barrowfuls of perfect pink-blushed potatoes, super-sized spuds and beautifully brown bakers, ready to store over winter and help fulfill that fantasy of urban self-sufficiency.... Not me. Ah no. I manage a panful of pathetically tiny, stunted ones which will be the size of marbles by the time I have pared the damaged bits off.
Then - no matter what variety I go for - the potato will remain rock hard when cooking before suddenly in a split second, reducing to mush.
The other month I bought a massive sack of potatoes in a well-known discount supermarket for £3.99. We are still wading through them and they have proved fabulously versatile in cooking.

Perfect potatoes - The Dream.....

I compare that to the £5.99 I have spent on 20 seed potatoes - guaranteed to be blight-free, eel worm free, easy to be grown by idiots. They even helpfully enclose a How To guide.
I have read it carefully and in a triumph of optimism over experience, planted them out yesterday on Good Friday, in keeping with gardener tradition.
I'll let you know......!

Seeds the day...

'April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain. ' - TS Eliot

Frogs porn on my pond!

I do so love Spring, it is so full of promise.
Will it be a warm May? A spectacular summer? Will it be a fruitful season with a cornucopia of crops and floral-abundance? Or will we spend the next few months shivering in the greenhouse as we watch relentless rain filling up the lovingly dug plot, planted with such high hopes?
 It doesn't matter; Spring is a beautifully-wrapped gift waiting to be revealed and that sense of excited expectation is part of the fun.

The birds are full of purposeful activity in the mornings, my body is getting used to that loss of an hour's sleep and beginning to love the later lightness of evenings. Tender baby leaves are unfurling on my fruit trees and bushes. The filthy little frogs have filled my pond with spawn after a noisy and frantic orgy! And the spring flowers are making the neglected corners of the plot look alive and loved.

Never mind that the last five days have been misty and moisty with Saharan smog, and flat grey skies. Never mind that I have a streaming cold...
I have seeds! And seeds mean a flurry of activity,with the promise of so many good things to come.

Ready, steady...grow!

Might have overdone it a tiny bit on seeds....

Rhubarb, rhubarb. . .

So Mother Nature has finally caught up a bit, though temperatures still seem cool for May.

The plot is definitely looking perkier and I'm feeling more confident about getting some good produce this year. There are seedlings and plantlets abounding in the greenhouse and all we Northern gardeners are just waiting for the threat of frosts to disappear. 

If nothing else, we've been enjoying the fruits of my labours <<d'you see what I did there...?>>  - every plot holder's best friend - rhubarb. 

After last time writing about chilis - a vegetable which is actually a fruit, today I'm singing the praises of a fruit which is actually classed as a vegetable....

At a time of year when there's not a huge amount of options to harvest, rhubarb's beautiful  huge leaves  make a corner of your plot look abundant. And oh, the joy of parting those monster leaves to find spears of pinky loveliness, all waiting to be transformed into treats!

OK, by the time you've added enough sugar to stop your cheeks turning inside out with the sourness, there may not be a great deal of nutritional value in rhubarb, but it is such a stalwart, low maintenance, fail-safe crop, easy to grow and with lots of culinary uses. It's also known to be a useful laxative.!

So over the years, we have gorged on crumbles, with residual syrups then frozen to make ice lollies for the children; I have experimented with rhubarb in cake - highly recommended and delicious served warm with cream; I have made rhubarb-infused vodka, to be served with ginger ale as a sort of Yorkshire mule cocktail! 

And this year, my cupboards are now full of beautiful, dark red, ginger and rhubarb jam.

I haven't been caught eating it out of a jar with a spoon. No, no, that must have been someone else.....

jam-tastic!

You can also use the leaves - which are toxic to humans and some animals - as a spray for aphids and other sucking insects, as it suffocates them. 

• Use 1kg of leaves and 2 litres of water.
•  Bring to boil and simmer for around half an hour.
• Strain off leaves
• Dilute to use as a spray.

This does need to be used fairly quickly as its effectiveness apparently wears off if stored.

There's some fab other uses and interesting info about rhubarb on this site, which I stumbled upon while looking up using rhubarb leaves as a hair dye...

http://www.rhubarbinfo.com/other

Chill out!

We've just marked the vernal equinox, the first day of Spring!
Ah, Spring - that season of increasing daylight and warming temperatures and the rebirth of flora and fauna......

Only nobody seems to have told Mother Nature this.

 It's snowing heavily as I type. It has snowed on and off for days. Now, I'm normally a big fan of snow - it's far prettier than rain, you can have fun in it and watching snow falling is one of life's dreamy pleasures as far as I'm concerned. But now, the lustre is wearing off for me.
Even the children are getting bored of the white stuff.
This has been the coldest March for 10 years, possibly longer. The daffs are still tightly budded, the crocuses haven't bothered unfurling, snowdrops are still in bloom and there seems no end in sight.
And my expectations for the coming growing season are somewhat low! Nothing in the unheated greenhouse is germinating, and the outside ground is sodden and will be for some time yet. It's rather frustrating.


So I am trying to make myself feel a little warmer by focussing on what's happening on my window sills at home.

Chillies. Easy to grow and so many uses! We're great fans of the lovely little  fruits!
The plants with their tiny white blossoms are attractive in their own right, and then when you have your own little chillies forming....!
All I can think of is wonderful things to cook - chilli chocolate brownies, salsas, chilli infused oil, curries, stir fries, nachos, pizza toppings, chilli jam, arrabiata sauce, all studded with flecks of  flavoursome red. Chillies are so useful and we are addicts.
I know there are loads of different colours, varieties and strengths, but this year I am concentrating on jalapeños  as they are the most versatile for my needs.

I'm also starting off sweetcorn, tomato, broad beans, sweet peas and broccoli on my son's 'magic' windowsill. His room is the warmest in the house and although not south facing, seems to gather the most light.

How are you other allomenteers staving off the long winter blues?

The party's over.

September has been a fumnny month this year. A little bit wild and wet and windy; not very mellow or yellow or languid and lovely. The last days of summer often seem to seamlessly segue into Autumn, with the chance to squeeze in a few last barbecues and some warm afternoons harvesting fruits and planning delicacies for the 'proper' Autumn.
But not this year. I feel a bit cheated. The central heating is on at home, jumpers and fleeces are definitely needed more often than not and even the blackberries have been defeated by the rain and have come to an abrupt end weeks earlier than usual.
Visiting the plot last weekend after a week off so reminded me of ''the morning after the night before''.
The ground was sticky and squelchy and littered with detrius from the recent storms.
All the gladioli in their gladrags were listing tipsily. The delicate sweetpeas had definitely overdone it all and were flat on the ground, support stakes and all.
Slugs and snails had done for the beans. Apples had rolled and rotted. The raspberry canes were drooping queasily, with the fruit soggy and unpickable.
Even the runner bean pyramids had definitely overdone it and were writhing on the floor like drunken teenagers.
And the gatecrashers! Weeds everywhere.....
Because I love marigolds (calendula - oh the glorious racket of yellow and orange!colours!)) I had given them free reign and they had invited all their mates and their mates' mates. I have had to pull them all up and bag them in unsightly bin bags, in the hope of stopping a takeover next year.
It just all seems a bit sudden. I'm not really ready for the party to end.