Carrots and Kids

Love you, love you not

One of the wonderful things about gardening is that it's so diverse. There are so many different things we can be passionate about. Being greedy, growing food is one of mine.

However, last year on the allotment and at home I started to grow more flowers. Some were for the wildlife (I had a bee bar) and some were what I ambitiously called my "cutting garden". Which was mainly sweet peas and dahlias.

I did also plant some gladioli. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned this. The fact that I haven't should be a clue. Yep, I didn't know why I wasted my time. Oh they grew. But my love, or even a vague like, for them didn't.

So, I'm not planting them again. Currently indoors I am enjoying my hyacinths which, I think, is a bit of love or hate flower for some. I'm not sure why but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, thank goodness.

What flowers do you love, or which won't be seeing daylight in your patch?

Halloween at the Plot

For all the years I've had an allotment it has never occurred to me to take our spooky celebrations up there. Every year I do, if I do say so myself, a cool party involving goblin bogies, witch eyes and warlocks tongues. Y'know, the usual.

This year is one of those rare ones where I haven't. The last time I dipped out of organising a party I had five months before just had my fifth baby and it was all Too Much. Yesterday we were invited to other things.

But partied we did, up at the allotment, on Friday thanks to one of the allotmeenteers who had previously instigated a pumpkin growing competition.

I'd like to tell you that ours romped to victory, so heavy was it the scales nearly broke. But I can't lie and it didn't romp anywhere. More like slumped into a soggy mess on my doorstep as I tried to pick it up by the stalk.

Unperturbed, I scooped the mess up into a bag and trotted off up to the site with a couple of surly kids, one incredibly tired one (gotta love sleepovers), a pumpkin fairy (oh yes, they do exist) and a scary, witchy-looking dragon.

It was lovely. My fellow veggie grower had gone to a lot of effort with balloons, a proper carved pumpkin, refreshments, fun and games.

There was even a pumpkin weigh-in, which I'm not going to discuss any more because it's all a bit boring. Y'know, just a big ole orange thing sat on some bathroom scales not doing anything. Yeah, boring. What did my gloopy mess weigh? Well, I don't think the scales could be working because it didn't register. I know, can you believe it?!

The glamorous witch organiser thinks she may have grown the wrong variety because all four families involved had pumpkins that were sludge by Halloween, if they grew at all.

So I have a year to read up on how to grow a whopper and shall, I think, have one in reserve at home. Not because I'm competitive you understand, but it would be lovely to carve my own. Like Rhiannon has done. No, I don't know how she did it either.

If you have any pumpkin growing tips, I'd be delighted if you'd divulge in the comments just for my research purposes. Thank you.

Shed Heaven

The problem with this blog (ok, there may be more than one problem but for now let's confine us to this problem) is that it's a real time blog. By that I mean I write about what is happening this week. Now. If I get some good news, or something happens and I don't have time to blog, well....it never gets written.

So I haven't told you about my shed news which, at the time, made me very happy. It still makes me happy. I may have mentioned a few times before that I don't have a shed at the allotment. There's a couple of communal ones and one largeish, home-made one.

I was told years ago that we're not allowed sheds. So my tools take their chance in a shared shed that doesn't have proper closing doors let alone a padlock. And they go missing. So I have to take them home each time which can mean I arrive and exit the site laden down like a pack horse. There is another shed I could use which does have a padlock but there's not much room and I can't ever remember the combination.

A few months ago I'd had enough and decided to approach the boss/administrator of the plots. We don't have a committee. It is very low key but run, nevertheless, by the parish council.

He had built himself a shed. It's quite sizable. I wanted one (she says petulantly). I had visions of sitting in there while it rained. Of nipping up on cold days and pottering. Rearranging my shelves. And, last but not least, storing plant labels, canes, pots, seeds and string. A shed heaven. My shed heaven.

I wasn't hopeful but I was determined. I would point out how he had one. How useful it would be. How an allotment without a shed was like coffee without cake. Still lovely but with room for improvement.

But I didn't need to. He agreed! I could have my shed! I was, as you might have guessed, ecstatic. And worried. I mean, was it normal to feel so happy about a shed?

Undeterred I found, of course, the perfect shed book. It has inside the most divine potting shed. I nearly drooled when I looked at it (are we getting worried yet?). There is still no sign of the shed. I am not entirely sure when there will be. But if Santa's kind this year there will be heavenly shed pictures. And that will have to do. For now.

Do you have a potting shed? I'd love to hear all about it!

Autumn at the Allotment

I am really missing my early morning stints up at the allotment during the weekends. I mean really. Weekends are busier than the week in many ways for me. The result? Allotment neglect. And Me neglect.

I did manage to get up there for an hour or so the other day, in between obligations, children and rain. At the risk of being a lightweight I can't go up there in the rain. The claggy clay is impossible to work and there is no shed.

While there I picked my one and only pumpkin. It had gone orange. Hooray! It had started to be eaten. Boo. I also managed to harvest carrots, courgettes and a few dahlias. All of that was a nice surprise.

I also made another discovery - I really dislike clearing veggie beds at the end of the season. No, really. I don't mind weeding or anything else but that. Still, it had to be done. I managed to spread some black gold and then planted onions and garlic. I only had time for two rows of each but it's a start.

It's half-term this week. I would love to get up there but I rate my chances as.....slim. Like all gardeners though, I have hope running through my veins.

How Would You Like Your Carrots - Purple? Rainbow? Or Diced?

There has been sleep deprivation. There has been vomit. There has been a little boy who wanted to be held and carried. A lot. There has not been any gardening whatsoever. And so it goes.

But there has been carrots. Lots of them (whole, not diced). There have been ordinary, purple and rainbow ones both at home and at the allotment. And there's been a fair amount of surprise.

Anyone who read my old blog last year will know I wasn't.....ahem...terribly successful with carrots. They just refused to grow. This time I tweaked my technique and - voila - we have lots of lovely carrots.

Last year I tucked them up in a lovely soft, fine compost bed (just a drill lined with compost into which the seeds were sown and then tucked up with a small sprinkling of more compost). Then I watered.

The sun shone and a nice hard crust developed against which the seedlings were no match. This year I didn't water for a couple of weeks. It may have rained, I can't remember, but that didn't seem to matter. It was my watering I think that put paid to them last year.

I also sowed a row the other week in a small space next to some rainbow chard at the allotment (I was at that point running out of room) and they have come up too so I don't think it's a fluke. And yes I am taking full credit for this success rather than the soil/weather/the moon.

Sunrise, Solitude and Sunflowers

Yesterday I went for my customary early morning visit to the allotment. Not as early as normal (I just couldn't get out of bed, it was chilly, not very light) but still early enough for me to be on my own. I'm hoping not, but I think it might be my last such visit of the season.

As ever I pottered. I'm sure most allotmenteers would be horrified at my work rate. There was much looking, planning (if I keep that bed free I can do potatoes next year, have to remember to keep it free though...) and coffee drinking.

I did manage to clear some bits and sow some oriental salad and some winter lettuce. I forgot the winter onion sets (again) and didn't have the heart to strip away my beans and sweet peas or the courgette plants that I think have finished.

Going up at that time has been scoffed at (are you mad?) but it's a no brainer: it clears my mind, affords me peace and solitude, allows me to work without impinging on family time. I get back at 9am, having detoured past the village shop for papers and seven pain au chocolates.

Sometimes I think this is so unlike a gardening blog. No wonderful tips, ideas, to-do lists. Just me waxing lyrical about the allotment, which probably comes across as smug seeing as most people aren't lucky enough to have one.

Then I think, no - I am not going to stop celebrating it, nature, my wonder at actually managing to grow something (more than something, this has been my best year EVER). People don't have to read me if they don't want. I've got caught up in lots of blogging "shoulds" just lately, ranging from liking that fellow gardening blogger (too competitive), strategies to get more recognition and readers (totally joyless) to what I should blog (creating blogger's block). No more.

So - more waxing. As I stood gazing and photographing my sunflower (it looked amazing against the gorgeous blue sky) I felt full of......bliss. So happy. Funny how a simple thing you grew from a small seed can have that effect on you.

And the feeling's lasted. I am not known for being a happy driver, all my grumpiness is magnified once inside that metal box (what are you doing, come on, oh just go, thank you Mr Ignorant and so it goes on). As I came down the steps a posse? bevvy? troop? of lycra-clad cyclists whirred by.

It made me happy to see others out enjoying their hobbies on an early Sunday morning. Getting fresh air, exercise, quiet (apart from the whirring), feeling quite a bit alive. It took me a while to get home, stopping as I did to let them all pass.There were hundreds. A few said thanks but they were in a minority.

And I didn't matter one bit. I realise that just lately I've not felt quite like this. But I'm glad I do. All thanks to one sunflower.

Things I Think About When Visiting My Allotment

Yesterday it was sunny, I'd had a (very) productive morning, all the children were at school/playgroup, I hadn't visited the allotment for ten days (tut) so off I went, laden with a flask full of my lovely coffee, camera, seeds and my lottie bag.

Did I feel guilty? Yes and no. It wasn't like I was off for a manicure (although if that is what makes you happy who's to judge?) but there were a bajillion and one things I could easily have done at home. Perhaps not easily. After all if they were that easy I would have done them.

I could also look for a job. Now, I don't want to get into the stay-at-home debate nor do I want to give the impression that somehow we are so wealthy it doesn't matter what I do. We're ordinary but go without. I am, however, beginning to wonder how I will ever manage to do anything for years, apart from laundry, shopping and cooking. It takes a lot of work to keep a family this size on the road.

All of these things occurred to me as I was weeding, harvesting, looking and drinking coffee this morning. Along with:

• Why did I decide to move some slabs and make the beds bigger? Not a five minute job.
• Why do I always feel rushed and just squeeze in quick visits to the plot? (See first two paragraphs).
• Wow! That pumpkin is big. We might even win this dratted competition.
• Blast, just burnt my mouth on the coffee. S.L.O.W. down.
• It's 9/9/9 today. Love those funny dates.
• My early morning special visits will have to cease now. For a while.
• Bloody slugs. Bloody caterpillars.
• Need to get up here and do X, Y and Z.
• {sigh} why didn't I bring my notebook and pen so I can write down X,Y and Z.
• I wonder what I'd do with my time if I didn't have the allotment....

Thrilling hey? Of course, I thought about lots of other things. Like how the little ones were getting on. Lunch. What the lovely old guy was doing. How rubbish my plot was looking. How it was starting to feel ever so slightly overwhelming. When I could get up there next. But I whittled it down to ten. Because I'm kind like that.

*The lovely Insomniac Mummy  passed onto me a You Are A Great Read Award which was very kind. Thank you. As part of her receiving the award she wrote about ten simple things that make her happy. I wrote my list of ten things I thought about at the allotment today as my part of the award.

I'd like to give it to Little Garden Helpers, Green Patch and the Good Life. No worries if you don't want to play and I think, looking at others, that your list can be about what you'd like. Happy list making (oh, I do love a good list)!

Autumn

It's here. They're gone. Along with my blogging mojo. Sigh. Not sure what's up with me but I've not been feeling the lurve for a wee while. Sigh.

So. So what am I going to do with my longed-for time? Here's a list (always helpful if not feeling it, to make a list)....

• Order some seeds/bulbs from Sarah Raven. I know. But I have a voucher. Criminal not to spend it. Plus, her sweet peas were so good. Well, they're mine but you know what I mean.
• Get some onion and garlic for lottie. I know I should grow my own from seed. But you know what? I can't be bothered.
• Finish off the apple and blackberry crumble made with yesterday's harvest. Find other blackberry recipes.
• Sow some flower seeds (sweet peas, calendula, Bishop's flower and others) in vacated onion bed at the allotment and in pots in the greenhouse.
• Sow some salad and carrots, winter radish, winter spinach and some swiss chard at the allotment.
• Go up to the allotment. Admire pumpkin. Step away from the computer.........

Journalling and the Art of Allotmenteering

I think one of the reasons I love gardening so much is that it allows me to be creative. Although I don't always feel it and I'm in awe of people who actually make things.

I'm not creative in a sewing machine sense. There are many ways to be. And of course blogging helps with that too, allowing me to play with colour, design, pictures and words.

I've spoken before how the seeds of my gardening love were always there, they just needed the right conditions to bloom. The most important one was time, which I do have a bit more of.

And in the same way I've noticed the love of recording a lot of my life is there, way back to nearly the start of adulthood, in journals kept when travelling. Little quotes picked up here and there jotted down. Lists of Books I'd Like To Own.

I have loads of notebooks in which I jot down Stuff. Not What I Did Today. But Stuff. I can chart what stage I was at in my life, the ages of my children, by reading what I noted, shopping lists, to-do's, websites of interest, books and poems.

It's funny looking back, seeing the self you would become, like staring at your baby's photos and thinking  "yes, I can see them now" but when you have that small bundle in your arms you cannot, try as you might, conjure up what they will look like as a child, a teenager.

So I decided this weekend that as well as my usual accompaniments up to the plot, I'd take my new journal, complete with new pen, too. I don't think I'm a solitary person, after all I feel I'm going demented if some days I don't have a proper face-to-face chat with another adult all day, but I do like my own company.

I decided to keep just one notebook. A Moleskin. They seem to be expensive but I figured, if I was to take what was inside it seriously, then perhaps a serious notebook it had to be.

What shall I keep in there? Everything. Lists of seeds I'm going to order from Sarah Raven (a belated birthday present), things I'd like to write about here. My Big Dreams List. Y'know. Just stuff. The allotment seemed the perfect place to do that.

I also did a bit of gardening too.

Seed Saving

 

I've never done this before and I'm not sure why. It's hardly difficult now is it? Maybe I am just extraordinarily lazy.

Sweet peas (only Sarah Raven's), calendula and foxglove (which are minute, can that be right?) have made it into my little tupperware box which sits on top of the Aga.

The only problem is when it's upended by a little one like today outside. Still, managed to pick them all up (well, except for the teeny tiny ones).

I'm going to get the children to decorate envelopes and will use the seeds next year. If I don't forget where I've put them that is....