Heritage tomatoes

Last year, we were lucky to whiz off to France to visit an old friend of mine. Well, she’s not old exactly… just we’ve known each other for ages.

A good few years back, she made the leap and had a house built in the Dordogne region – and has never looked back. When we arrived, we could totally see why. The region is stunning – Chateuxs  and vineyards galore, and totally unspoilt countryside.

Anyway, enough about that (though I could wax lyrical for a good while more). This post is about tomatoes.

During a barbeque at my friend’s partner’s house, he served us a tomato salad. Just a simple dish of tomatoes, onions and a dressing – but I tell you now – it was TO DIE for! Complimenting him on the dish, he replied that he’d grown the tomatoes himself, and ushered us out in the garden to have a look.

There in the vegetable plot were rows of tomato plants, and they had to be one of the ugliest things I’d ever seen. Big, knarly and knobbly, hanging on the vines; if you came across them you wouldn’t give them a second glance. But, my word they were tasty!

Thierry explained that his family had saved the seeds of this particular variety for over 100 years, and asked if we would like some. Of course the answer to this was a resounding “Yes please!”

Back in the house, he took one of the tomatoes and sliced it in half. He then scooped out the seeds, washed and drained them and sealed them between two sheets of kitchen towel. We had strict instructions to keep them like this, then dampen the kitchen towel to release them at planting time.

This, we duly did, and I’m delighted to report that the plants are thriving and growing well. I’ve even gifted a few to friends, so we can share in the beauty of these age-old fruits. I can’t wait until we’re tasting them again!

Heritage tomato plants

 

Three years on

Hard to believe that I’ve lived in my little house now for just over three years. Yesterday, on facebook memories, this photo popped up…

Garden – May 2014

This was literally how the garden looked when I moved here. A scrappy path, a rubbish lawn and not a plant to be seen. I remember sitting on the step, gazing out on it, and thinking, “What the actual flip am I going to do with it?”

Well, this is the garden, exactly three years on, and I’m feeling pretty chuffed – it’s now a little paradise in the centre of town!

Garden – May 2017

Garden – May 2017

Garden – May 2017

Garden – May 2017

Rose arches

Now the lawn has been sown and I’m waiting for my cottage-garden seeds to germinate, it was time to turn my attention to elsewhere in the garden. The borders are a bit of a no-go area at the moment – I don’t want to be pulling out any emerging flower seedlings by accident, so I’m staying well away until it’s apparent what pops up.

Last year a friend and I created a little patio area at the end of the garden, where the last of the sun’s rays shone each evening. It was to be the ideal spot to relax of an evening, but at the moment it looks a bit out on a limb. I wanted to create some height around the area, without closing it off completely – so I pitched for some garden arches along the bottom edges. There should prove ideal for some ross to scramble over, providing a semi-screen, with the added bonus of some gorgeous flowers and scents.

Off I trotted into town, where the shops are increasing their garden ranges by the day it seems, and purchased two cheap metal arches. Assembling them quickly, they were soon in place at the end of the patio. Now for plants. I’d bought some bar rooted roses a week or so back, and I was itching to get these into the ground. I’d plumped for old-fashioned varieties to match the emerging theme, and the roses of choice were ‘Albertine’ a rambling variety, and two climbers: ‘Clementine’ and ‘Paul’s Scarlet’.

Bare rooted plants are much less expensive than plants for sale in pots, but they do need a little extra tender loving care. First you need to carefully remove any packaging they arrive in, and then give the roots a really good soak in a bucket of water. The hole you dig should be big enough to spread the roots around in, and the soil should be replaced firmly, to help the plants get a hold and stop them rocking around. That all done, give them a jolly good water in, re-firm the soil, and they should soon romp away. I’m happy to report that my plants have begun to show signs of life after only a week in the ground.

With any further gardening in the borders on hold for the moment, I thought I’d give the shed a quick slash of colour. The fence outside the back door is painted a lovely sage green, so off I popped to the hardware store to get the same for the shed. A most enjoyable afternoon was spent painting, and although it will need another coat (why is there always another job?), I’m happy with the result.

Little by little my patch of garden is beginning to take shape, and I have to say, it’s all rather exciting.

Rose arches

Growing from seed

There’s a lot to be said for growing things from seed. True, you don’t get an instant garden like you would with buying plants, but it’s cheap, rewarding, and actually quite good fun.

As the weather seems to be warming up nicely, I dug out my seed collection at the weekend. I appear to have acquired a vast collection of flower and vegetable seeds: mostly bought for a fraction of their original price in ‘end of season’ sales. There’s everything from beans to peas, from cosmos to cottage garden mixed. Some will be able to go straight out into the garden very soon, but others benefit from an earlier start inside. Looking around, it soon became apparent that I had nowhere near enough windowsills to house my collection, so off I popped and purchased a tiny greenhouse with a plastic cover.

I’d decided when I began to plan the garden that there wasn’t space nor need for a big greenhouse, so this little one do the trick quite nicely. I positioned it in a sheltered spot that also had the benefit of good light and sun.

A quick rummage in the shed produced some seed trays which I filled with compost, duly sprinkled seeds on the top and covered with another thin layer of compost. After firming all the soil down, the trays got a good water, and into the greenhouse they all went. So far I have Cosmos (brilliant for late summer/autumn blooms), Tagetes (apparently great for discouraging green and whitefly), some cherry tomatoes, and a couple of pots of sweet peas.. I’ve also sown a pot or two of dwarf French beans: the French beans I grew last year provided absolutely corking results, so I’m hoping for a similar re-run this year.

Reading the remaining packets in my collection, some of the mixed seed collections instruct to sow straight into the ground. I’ve learned over time that certain plants don’t like to be messed about with, and don’t like to be started off in pots and then moved.

So the next job was to tidy the areas that these seeds would be scattered in. The next couple of hours were happily spent grubbing around in the garden, digging out any weeds and grass from the borders: they are a lot easier to get out now than trying to negotiate around emerging seedlings later.

That done, the mixed seeds were scattered around, and the borders got a quick rake over to bed them in. Next up was a water, and now I just have to sit back and wait for the results. Well, that’s what would happen normally. Me? I’m out there now every half an hour, it seems, peering into seed trays and soil, willing my little plants to grow.

And today we had lift off. I present you with… the tiniest tagetes in the world!

In no time at all I should have a myriad of colourful plants, and a garden that has the ideal ambience to attract butterflies, insects and bees.

Tagete seedlings

The dreaded right hand side

After what seems like an age peering out of the window at the garden, waiting for winter to end, it would appear that spring is most definitely around the corner. The days are becoming longer, and elusive sun appears to be making a slightly more regular appearance.

My new garden has no real shape, and I have spent the winter trying to work out what on earth to do with it. I’ve come up with the loose plan of a seating area at the bottom to catch the last of the summer rays, and elsewhere in the garden, great big blousy borders: chock a block with flowers and shrubs to attract insects and birds.

That’s the plan. In my head. The reality at the present moment is very different to this romantic notion. The present layout of the garden is a patch of lawn, an odd assortment of plants I put in last year, and the bane of my gardening life at the moment: the dreaded RIGHT HAND SIDE.

Let me elaborate. The left hand of the garden gets the lion’s share of the sun, being west facing. There’s a passable border, and a half decent patch of lawn – in short, stuff to work on. In contrast, the right hand is made up of patchy lawn interspersed with weeds, and great big bare patches where the chickens have been in situ – and quite frankly have trashed the joint. Together with dips and hollows and being completely uneven, I’ve spent a good many moments despairing what on earth I was going to do with it.

Then with the arrival of the sunshine at the weekend, it came to me. Like a flash of inspiration. No amount of filing, raking and trying to level the ground would ever make it look half decent. So I decided to flatten it and start again. Out came the rotavator, and like a woman on a mission I turned over the patchy grass and bare patches. A quick rake over, and I can already see the potential my hard work has unlocked. I still need to get all the twitchy bits out, and work on levelling out the patch, but now it’s much clearer how the garden might take shape.

A visit to the garden centre later, and I now have a selection of shrubs and climbers to begin designing my garden. I’m starting at the fences and working my way in. The layout will evolve naturally, with shrubs, perennials and lots of cottage garden seeds: and the bits that don’t end up as borders, I’ll turn into lawn.

Rather than being a daunting task, the garden has suddenly turned into a place of endless possibilities. And I have to say I’m way more positive about it now. To begin from a completely blank canvas, and stamp my mark on it completely, is really quite exciting. I’m intending to do this as thriftily as possible, and do hope to share the journey with you.

Right hand side – flattened

Autumn tidy up

With the summer drawing to a close and autumn well and truly getting a hold, the garden is showing the signs of the season switch. After a summer of delivering the goods, some plants are looking a bit worse for wear and most definitely past their best. So this weekend was devoted to a bit of a tidy up. First job was to whip off any dead flower heads and dump them in the brown bin.

Next up was the patio: the pots have given all they have to give, and the pallet planters I made earlier in the year were now looking decidedly tatty. The strawberry plants looked dejected and unloved, and the herbs would probably thank me for a tad more root room.

In next to no time I’d whipped out all the plants. The herbs were replanted straight into the border and any strawberry plants that looked like they had potential to perk up, got potted up and put in a sheltered spot near the shed. If they recover for next year, that can only be a bonus.

With an empty planter, and spaces to fill, off I went in search of some new plants.

Now, people of Hinckley, I bring you great news. There are currently great bargains to be had in that there town. In their eagerness in getting the Christmas stuff on the shelves (don’t get me started on that one – we’ve not even had Halloween yet) the shops are clearing out the gardening stuff – and practically giving it away. In one shop I was delighted to find that seeds were down by 75%. Yes, 75%! After a good rummage through, my basket was quickly filled with an assortment of flower seeds: some cottage garden annuals, some that attract butterflies and others that are night-scented. The garden should be an absolute riot of colour and insect activity next year.

In another shop, I spotted some trays of pansies and violas on a trolley. They looked a bit droopy, but nothing a good old drink couldn’t sort out. But my attention was grabbed by the price tag… 20p a tray. Yes, you did hear that correctly. A penny a plant. It would be madness not to take them up on the kind offer!

Chuffed to bits with my garden on a budget, I trotted off back home to finish the project.

Into all the planting pockets went new compost, and into that went the violas and pansies. A good watering has seen them come back to life, and there were even enough plants left to fill some big tubs.

Once they get established and start filling out, they should look amazing. So, for the grand total of 60p, I should have a cheerful display of flowers all through the winter – right outside my back door.

Pallet planters

 

Seeding the lawn

When I moved from Chook Towers to Chook Cottage, the garden was nothing but a scrap of lawn with an old path down the middle. The first job was to dig up a bit, get some veggies in, and install a seating area at the bottom.

Standing back, I was pleased to see it was coming along like I’d planned it (I hadn’t much) – but the path was bugging me. It was old, it was tatty, and it chopped the garden up into two distinct halves. So I stuck it on a Facebook free site and some kind people nipped round, dug it up and took it away with them.

Then came the next challenge. One side of the lawn is pretty much there – quite level, and grassy. The other side – where the chickens live – is uneven and weedy. Not sure quite how I’d marry the two up, I’ve decided to dig over the weedy bit, level it all up to the grassy bit, and sow seed. I should then end up with a nice lawn which I can then chop about into a country cottage type shape, and whack some plants in.

So, wellies on, I set to work. The chooks were moved up the garden a bit to give a bit of space, and in no time at all I had a weed/grass free patch, which I raked, trod over, raked again and sprinkled grass seed on the top. A gentle rake over to incorporate the seed into the soil, and hopefully my new bit of lawn will start sprouting any time soon.

The biggest challenge will be to keep the new puppy off it – she LOVES to dig 🙂

Gardening over, I glanced at my watch and discovered I’d actually been on the job for a while, and I’d only just left myself enough time for a quick shower and spruce up before I was getting picked up. Yes. Picked up. By a man. With a pulse, and a cheeky smile to boot.

It seems I must have managed the transformation from grubby oik to glamour puss quite well. When I opened the door to him, I definitely got a low whistle and a “Wow!”.

#StillGotIt

Broody Judy

One of the top priorities when moving house was making sure we had a couple of chickens. I’ve kept chickens for a good few years now, and they make excellent pets. They have simple needs: water, food and somewhere dry to roost – and you get fresh eggs to boot.

So at the bottom of the garden live Liza and Judy: one black, and one white chicken. They’re happily ensconced in their Eglu (posh chicken house to you), and although a bit skitty to the human touch, they’ve been delivering the goods on a daily basis.

Until this week. Wandering down to collect said eggs, I discovered that Judy was spending longer than was really necessary in the nest box. Hour upon hour went by, and still she sat..

It would appear that Judy had indeed gone broody.

A broody chicken thinks that the eggs she’s sitting on are going to hatch, so will sit on them continuously, only coming out for a sporadic bite to eat. Obviously, with no cockerel, our eggs are not fertilised, so will never, in a million years, turn in to fluffy little chicks.

Apparently this can go on for three weeks, and apart from Judy maybe not getting enough nutrition while she’s lounging around in there, it means that Liza has to practically climb on top of her to lay her egg. Not ideal, so I decided to try to break the pattern. The internet says to gently lift the chicken off the nest box and close the door so she can’t get back in.

Opening the back door to do the deed, I got a distinctly frosty reception as I leaned in to lift her off. She puffed herself up, fixed me with a steely glare, and growled to warn me off. I had no desire to get my hands pecked raw, so executing Plan B, I donned my thick gloves, and shooed her off the nest.

This went on for a good few days, and the system was working marvellously. Up until the other night. Dusk had fallen and I suddenly remembered I hadn’t let the girls back in to the coop to roost. Out in the garden I discovered them crouched by the door, obviously settled down for the night. I couldn’t leave them to the elements in case the weather turned or a predator decided to make a play, so they had to be moved. Slight problem. The run is only 3’ high, and the only way I could get to the girls was through the main entrance at the bottom. So, there I am, crawling commando-style on my belly, up the run. In my pjamas. Through chicken poo and yesterday’s grass cuttings. Glamorous, not.

Eventually I managed to get them to bed, and backed out from whence I came, looking slightly more bedraggled and smelling a tad nastier than I had half an hour ago.

But the girls were safe. Judy’s not broken the broodiness yet, but I turf her off the nest each morning in the hope that her motherly instinct will disappear any time soon.

Crop a load of this harvest

The latest update from the garden comes from me peering out at a dank and dismal day, but on the up side, the weather for the carnival was splendid, and the patch is getting a good old drenching.

This week I’m delighted to announce that we’ve had our first real harvest from the vegetable plot. After the broccoli heads bolted and turned to flowers earlier in the season, I chopped off the non-edible stems, but left the plants in situ. It appears this was the right thing to do, as they are now throwing up small heads on a regular basis, and we’re picking these as cut and come again vegetables. With any luck we’ll be harvesting for a good time to come.

I’ve also done a bit of digging around in the history of the house, and it seems a farmhouse stood on the plot in the mid 1800s. This could explain the rich crumbly soil, (an absolute joy after 20-odd years of gardening on clay) and why after a somewhat slow start, once established, the plants appear to go a bit bonkers.

The runner beans – looking decidedly dodgy just a few weeks back have now flourished and sprinted up the canes. In no time at all, they bushed out, flowered profusely and are now giving us a steady supply of lovely succulent beans.

I’m also thrilled to report that the other slow starter – the courgette plant – has now picked up and is pushing out fruits left, right and centre.

My peas are also looking lush and healthy, and it won’t be long now until we’re picking stuff that’s ‘as sweet as the moment when the pod went pop’.

Whilst this is all excellent news, the star performers in the garden have to be the pumpkin plant and the French beans. The pumpkin has snaked its way towards the bottom of the garden, and is now fanning itself up the fence panel; with two decent-sized fruits forming already.

The French beans have foliage now so thick, and so dense that I have to do a fair bit of rootling around in there to uncover the beans. But what a treat when I do. They are so sweet, that many just get chomped raw in the garden, and don’t even make it to the dinner table! And if the amount of flowers on the plants is any indication of the potential harvest, we’ll surely be bi-lingual by the end of the season.

So, this weekend, after removing a couple of stray caterpillars, we enjoyed laughter-filled feast of beans, courgettes and broccoli to slap by the side of the Sunday roast*.

Although I’m biased, the flavours were out of this world.

*the ‘ahem’ company may have had a lot to do with that 😉

Harvest from the garden

 

Project patio

Now that the greenhouse has gone to pastures new, the space I’d earmarked for it stood barren, neglected and bare.

A rootle around the garden soon produced an odd assortment of reddish-coloured slabs, so I thought, “Aha! I’ll build myself a patio”. It made perfect sense. The area gets the last bit of sun in the garden, and already I was imagining myself sitting upon it, floaty dress and floppy hat at the ready; trashy novel in one hand, chilled white wine in the other.

With that image in mind, I weeded the area, then levelled it off the best I could and chucked the slabs down in a rough diamond shape. “Sorted”. I thought, as I stood back to admire my handiwork. All it needs now is something to sit on, and Bob’s your uncle. I proudly shared my newly acquired slab laying skills to all my friends on Facebook, and one of them replied back, “Err… it’s a bit wonky”.

The wonky patio

“A bit wonky?”  I countered. “No, I think the word you’re looking for is ‘rustic’”

Standing firm, the reply came back “I’ll help you level it”. He continued, “I’ll have a think, and bring some stuff round at the weekend”.

The weekend came, and the stuff duly arrived, namely four thick planks of wood, weed suppressing membrane, an assortment of tools and numerous bags of pea shingle. He’d obviously had a think, and meant business.

The first task was to fetch up my wonky assortment of slabs, then level the area properly. We then sawed the planks into six foot lengths and I happily screwed them together with my woman-drill to form a square frame. After digging the same shape in the garden, the frame plopped in, and we performed a bit of last minute levelling off.

Patio frame

Next we lined the frame with the membrane and put a good layer of pea shingle inside. The slabs were then put on top, and spaced out so it looked like we’d actually planned it out like a dream. Another layer of pea shingle went over the top and I merrily set to work sweeping this into the gaps.

A good watering over the top cleaned it off nicely, and brought out the colours of the shingle beautifully. Standing back to admire our afternoon’s work , I had to say that it did look remarkably good. And I grudgingly had to admit to myself that, yes, it did look more inviting than my assortment of ‘slabs chucked on soil’ arrangement.

I’ve since planted an assortment of cottage garden plants around the back, including delphiniums, lupins and poppies, which should add a bit of height and look great when they all fill out.

So, for little cost, a bit of effort and a lot of sweat and toil in the blazing sun, I have myself a lovely little area to soak up the last rays and enjoy a glass of something yummy.

The finished patio