A chair, a shed & some sunshine.....

....What more could a chap want?
Today has been another harvest & maintenance day. The blackberry bonanza has finally ended and the plenitude of raspberries has just begun. I do like a nice plenitude, especially of raspers.

The superfluity of courgettes continues (yeah, I know, 10 plants, what was I thinking of? Doh!)and has been joined by a glut of gherkins and cucumbers. I find it hard to tell which is which because the labels are all overgrown now and outdoor cucumbers are a bit knobbly and look like gherkins anyway, so tend to call them all gherkumbers; they all taste the same anyway!

But the rainbow chard is doing really well - look at these chaps.



No idea what it tastes like & I've never grown it before but it looks so good I'll definitely do it again.

And finally, I turned around incautiously at one point while holding the [working] strimmer (this is the maintenance bit) and inadvertently strimmed the top off one of the dahlias. The pale one in the middle is no more. Oops; I'm just glad it wasn't one of the several Bishops of Llandaff - I'd hate to be accused of Ecclesiasticide.

PS - and in a packed programme tonight, I've just lopped a chunk out of my little finger (well, one of them actually; I do have two, although at this rate perhaps not for much longer) while cutting back tomato plants. I knew those scissors were sharp but they're really sharp. Not so much "blood on the tracks" as blood on the tommyatoes. The sacrifices I make, eh?

Strawberry Fields Forever

Oh, I do hope so. We bought 12 plants of Marshmello at the start of the year and had loads of strawbs from them (well, apart from those that Tufty ate!). And now they're runnering furiously so I've planted them out and dug the runners in a bit (there are at least 50).

Here's looking forward to lots of luvverly strawbs next year.

And the rose hips are coming on well too.


I'm not growing them, you understand, but they seem unusually prolific this year. As a child, growing up in the Northeast (Ee, it were 'ard, we used to eat gravel for breakfast. Breakfast? Gravel?, you were lucky etc) us kids used to collect rosehips in the Autumn and sell them to the local chemist, who despatched them to some stonking great factory to make them into Delrosa, rose-hip syrup, which they then sold back to our mothers at greater cost than us kids got for selling them to the chemist.

Errm? Something not quite right there? Why didn't we just eat the rose hips & cut out the middle man? Not sure that ever occurred to us. Perhaps they're poisonous in their 'raw' state.

Did anyone else do this?

You wanna Courgette???

I've got 27 to spare.

Yes, the annual courgette glut is in full swing. Industrial quantities of ratatouille are being made (fermented?).

The gherkin glut is just beginning (a mere 13 today). Do I like gherkins? I don't know actually; I've never knowingly eaten one, and I guess I would know if I'd eaten one - they don't look the sort of chap you could eat by accident or without knowing about it!! But I saw this packet of seeds for East European Gherkins and thought they sounded worth a go. I guess I'll like them soon? What do you do with gherkins? Pickle them? Advice please. Save me from myself and the gherkin monster.

We also got the first of this year's runner beans today,


so that glut will be on the way soon. And then there'll be the climbing French. Good job we like them.

And finally, for all you cornflower lovers, here's a pic of the cornflower hedge

and the Bishop of Llandaff.

He's such a poser; gets in everywhere.

No respect

Three times round the world in the 1760 & 1770s and look what happens in your home port. Seagulls crap on your head. Just no respect.

This is of course Captain Cook and we were in Whitby,

land of glorious fish and chips and kippers. The car now reeks of smoked fish but that's a small price to pay for the best kippers in Britain. Others from Craster, Arbroath etc may disagree but, look, you're just wrong. Whitby rules!!

I had one of the kippers for my tea (I am obliged by Madam Wilbury to cook it outdoors on a camping stove, otherwise the house reeks too) and very lovely it was too.

Incidentally, have I ever told you the story of Captain Cook's goat? Oh well, if you insist.

Back in 1768, when Cook was victualling the Endeavour he added to the crew a goat, to provide milk for the officers and the sick. But this was no ordinary goat. This goat had just returned from circumnavigating the globe on board the Dolphin. So, at a time when most people travelled hardly at all and often no further than the nearest market town, here was a goat which had already circumnavigated the globe once and was about to set off and do it again.

The goat, of course, to maintain a milk supply, would have had to be "put to the billy" at some stage along the journey and there would doubtless have been kids (this is kids in the goat sense, you understand). Interestingly, descendants of these kids are thought to survive on Arapawa Island, NZ, and are under threat of a cull.

Great story! Some goat!! Respect!!

Unlike some of his crew the goat came back safely a second time and settled down to an honourable retirement with Mrs Cook in the Mile End Road.

Spuds

International Kidney


Grown in a bag on the patio - first of the year. I'm quite pleased with those; and they ate as good as they looked!

A letter from the Council

No, not one of those "mucky plot" letters. A letter encouraging us all to use water sparingly. It was raining as the postman delivered it!

And actually I think it's a bit of a cheek. I pay for the chuffing water! Last year I used the hosepipe (a 50 meter hosepipe because the tap is so far away; that's a long hosepipe) just the once. The year before I used it just the once. But I pay the same for it regardless of how little water I use. Pah!

Now if the Council turned their attention to culling pigeons I'd be out there cheering them on.

Well, it hasn't needed watering

Not long ago I was making daily visits to the allotment to avoid dust-bowl and blown-away syndrome (my Oklahoma home it blowed away). But that was then and this is now. Haven't had a day without rain for nearly two weeks now, and of course it rained on St Swithin's day. I'm not in the least bit superstitious but we do seem to be in a bit of a rut, weather-wise.

Anyway, how's the plot looking? Surprisingly good, if you aim off for the lack of weeding. I was afraid it might have all sprung back into rampant life and got away from me but it hasn't. I think it was so dry it's taken a little while to adjust back to dampness (like me, really). But if I don't weed it soon I'll have lost it until the frosts come. Hoe, Hoe, Hoe yer plot; that's the thing to do. Merrily, merrily etc.

But the beans are looking good

Both sorts

Here's a cheeky little gherkin trying not to show his face

And look at this chap.

I've got dozens just like him. Ya want blackberries; I've got blackberries. Aren't they beauties?

Cornflowers; what's not to like?

Courgettes & dastardly deeds

The courgette plantation is getting into it's stride.



Blackberries are looking good too.


But someone has made off with my hose connector - my good brass hose connector. Foolishly and inadvertently I'd left it attached to the water pipe the last time I used the hosepipe. The water pipe isn't exactly visible; it's set into a metal box flush with the ground so it wouldn't be on view for any passing stranger to run off with. I've left a note inside the metal box, urging its return, but I don't suppose I'll see it again. I've bought a crappy cheap plastic one instead.

Something completely different

You deserve a break from all this allotmenteering. So do I. I should have been in France this week investigating the allotments of the Quiberon peninsula. But my back went into "lock-up & wince" mode and was heard to say "Camping? Sleeping on the ground? In my condition? You must be joking, matey". So I had to cancel.

But it improved over the week to the point where I could go scootering yesterday. This is the highest point between Upper Wharfedale & Wensleydale.



Next stop the bikers cafe in Hawes.


Five minutes later it was raining.

Lovage rampant

Look at this. It's over 6 feet high and bearing a worrying resemblance to a triffid



I'm sadly disappointed by the plum tree though; and not for the first time. In fact the history of this plum tree is one of disappointment in four years out of five. It's only because it redeemed itself last year that it didn't find itself uprooted with extreme prejudice. But this year it's back to it's old habits; there were lots of little plums set but most of them have dropped off. These are a few of the survivors. No plum jam this year.


On a happier note the sweet peas have started flowering although they're a bit runty.



I think the whole plot is suffering from a lack of manure. Autumn job there, methinks.

Some things you only learn too late

Strimming nettles while wearing shorts is not a good idea.

My legs have enough hives to start an apiary.

The mysterious case of the levitating strawberry

When we looked out this morning there was a strawberry neatly perched on top of the fence, a good six feet off the ground.


How? Why? Who?

I am growing strawberries, in fact we had the first three last night, and very tasty they were too. Close examination of the fenceberry shows what look like rodent teeth marks.


Squirrel, methinks. But why didn't he eat it all? Why leave it neatly perched six feet off the ground?

Who knows what goes on in the mind of a squirrel but I've got a message for this one:

Hop it, Tufty; those are my strawberries

It was warmer than this in Kefalonia

Sunday afternoon - 34C, blue sky, sunshine, souvlaki, Mythos. Yep, the Wilburys were in Kefalonia

Sunday evening - 13C, grey sky, lashing with rain, curry, Carlsberg. Yep, back in Britain.

We'd never been to Kefalonia before and expected it to be a bit like Crete, which we go to a lot. And funnily enough it was! Well, there's a surprise. But without the goats. We love goats, ideally chargrilled with a nice Greek salad, but although we saw plenty of goat poo we saw virtually no goats. Lots of bouganvillea though.


Interesting botanical fact about Bougainvillea - the flower 'petals' aren't petals at all but bracts. It's named after Louis Antoine de Bouganville (1729 - 1811).

He wrote after one battle "The very air we breathe is contagious of insensibility and hardness". It felt a bit like that as we landed in Manchester.

Early starts

I thought yesterday was an early start; I was on the allotment by 8.00

Today I was there before 7.00 !! Thought I'd capitalise on the overnight shower and give everywhere a good soaking before there was any competition for the water pressure.

I could save travelling time and sleep there?

Wilma Wilbury says I may as well sleep there anyway, the amount of time I spend there. Oops.

Beans ahoy

They're in. Later than I'd like but they're in. Still no joy with the Climbing French. I fear I might have to buy some (the shame, the shame).

But the nursery bed is looking good (pretentious? Moi?). Look at these leeks (strictly, leeklets!)


Later-in-the-year's Blackberries are looking good too.

And finally, every allotment should have a thing of beauty. That role is normally filled by the ever-lovely Wilma Wilbury but today she is usurped by a dog rose:

Peas, Beans & Bishops

Here are the peas. Can you spot 'em?


Mangetout. Securely fenced in to keep they pigeons off. So securely fenced in I doubt I'll be able to get at them when they're ready. And the next batch were sown yesterday; successional sowings 'r us! Traditionally, I'm rubbish at successional sowings so I'm trying harder this year. I sow them in a half-round gutter, then just slide 'em in.

Beans are a different story altogether, although still legumes. Obviously. My runner beans have been very lethargic this year. sown three weeks ago & only just germinating. Very poor, chaps. Come on; arse in gear please. But even that is better than the Climbing French, who have without exception turned into Caving French. Well, they ain't come up so they musta gone down? So I've had to start again from scratch, very late, with those. Perfidious French, huh?

And as for the Bishops? Well, here's the Bishop of Llandaff.
He's a dahlia but He never showed at all last year, or the year before, when I planted the beggar outdoors in the True Sod. So this year I gave him comfy quarters in the One True Greenhouse and at least this year he's shown his face. I have two more of him lurking around and waiting to see what will happen. Lurking Bishops? Isn't there a Monty Python sketch somewhere there? Spanish Inquisition?

Oh, and I've cut the hedge.

Neat or what. Chuffing hard work though. I have a petrol hedgecutter, which is dead good but ye gods it's heavy. Like carrying a small motorbike around with you.

Dead in the Water

Sadly, that's exactly what this little fella was

Travelling vicariously

I've been all over the world this week, starting in Abyssinia, and the Danakil Depression. Later I went to the Hindu Kush and the marshes of southern Iraq. Along the way I called in at Austin, Texas and Saltaire, Yorkshire, and the CAMRA Pub of the Year (twice), before ending at Heeley & District Allotment Society. Crikey.

To explain, for my 60th birthday Wilma Wilbury bought me membership of the Royal Geographical Society.. They have a lecture programme every Monday evening, and last Monday's was by the biographer of Sir Wilfred Thesiger. I read Arabian Sands, Thesiger's masterwork on the crossing of the Empty Quarter, when I was 13 and it's never left me. Thesiger was born in Abyssinia in 1910 and, well you can work out the rest for yourselves.

Austin, Texas was courtesy of the Hot Club of Cowtown, gigging at the Victoria Hall, Saltaire. I'm in danger of (danger of? I am!) becoming a groupie. Go see 'em.

The Kelham Island Tavern is in Sheffield's "Beer Alley" and the Heeley & District Allotment Society Plant Sale is courtesy of my fellow-blogger, Michelle. Good to meet you this morning.

Phew; I need a rest after all that. I am 60 you know!!

Not too bad....

.....at the allotment either.

Massive strimmage yesterday left it reasonably tidy but today saw a major dig-out of one of my many bindweed plantations. I got two barrowloads of bindweed out of one bed. But it was worth it; I was able to plant the first batch of salad leaves. Red Cos, Green Salad Bowl & Lollo Rossa lettuce, along with some Pac Choi, all suitably pigeon-proofed.


Rest of it doesn't look too bad either, if you ignore the big pile of manky old sticks due for burning.

The Factory

At this time of year a greenhouse is just a seed and plant factory. I'm just soooo glad I've got one again.

On this day.....

.....9 years ago I flew to New York. The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust had given me a grant of £6000 to fund a 2 month journey following in the footsteps of David Douglas, botanist and plant collector (1799-1834).

I can truthfully say it changed, and continues to change, my life. Regular readers of this blog over the last couple of years will have seen some of those adventures and subsequent trips.

My great regret in connection with this is that my father never knew about it. He died 4 years before I set off, but would have loved to hear about it. He hardly travelled at all and in many ways I travel in his name. Tomorrow is his birthday; he would have been 95.

Love that Lovage

Now that's what I call Lovage. Really getting into its stride now, 3 years on and 3 feet high.

More Spuds

Well, we like new potatoes.

Tatty Bags

Here's the cunning plan to have Jersey Royals (or International Kidneys, to give them their non-protected name) on tap. Looking forward to them already.

So cold

Today was the start of this year's cycling

11 miles round Rother Valley Country Park and the Transpennine Trail. But so cold.

These chaps looked cold too.

Partialled

I've been partialled!

Last Friday was my last working Friday. I've taken partial retirement and now work three days a week - Tues, Weds, Thurs.

Summer is coming, I'm only working three days a week, what's not to like?