BeetrootandSpuds

  The new cloches mentioned a few posts ago originally had transparent corrugated covers, but these are hard to get and replacements difficult to cut to size.  However, we've found that by securing narrow pieces of wood to the frames, they can be reinforced and plastic sheeting stapled to them.  The cloches may not look as smart as they once did, but we hope they will prove as serviceable.

As soon as we were allocated our allotment last year Spuds and Old Bean grasped their trowels and set to work clearing the raised beds.  As they burrowed away amongst the tangled roots they came across a number of small wizened bulbs, which we stored in a bucket hoping they might turn out to be, well... something.  Last November we planted them in our barrow and held our breath. And now as the days warm they are revealed in their true colours, tulips; an unexpected treasure

The other day, I came across some rhubarb plant lurking on a low shelf in our local Pound Shop.  Knowing, as I do, that Spuds loves nothing more than a good crumble, I snapped up three Victorias, and by that evening they were in pride of place at the end of our Squash bed, where I'm pleased to report that they are doing well. Disappointingly, our Glaskin's Perpetual has proved a bit too delicious for its own good.  The leaves have been nibbled by some unidentified parasite.

I'm told that hidden away in some software packages are little jokes, riddles or games referred to by those in the know as "Easter Eggs."  In much the same way, odd plants and bits and bobs are hidden in the recesses of many an allotment.  In our case, Plot A brought along with it our trusty, rusty wheelbarrow and a compost bin and Plot B has a thornless blackberry on one side (now happily climbing a small post and rail), raspberries on another and an almost endless supply of bindweed running through the middle, under our freshly planted potatoes. 

"The time has come," said Spuds sagely, "Our fruit is forming on the bushes, and we've got to get our cage up." And sure enough we did.  It took us about 4 hours. The problem was not so much the cage, which went up easily enough, but the netting. Rather than buying proprietary netting fitted to our cage (3m x 2m) we decided to use some bird netting bought from a local garden center, which was just 4m wide.  That meant we had to link it together with cable ties along its length, while leaving enough over to pin down to make sure blackbirds cannot wiggle under.  The netting is elasticated and trying to get it fixed, joined and even would have tried the most patient gardener.  Anyway, the result is that our fruit is now caged, and the cage seems solid enough.  Whether it will keep the birds out is another matter.

One of the most attractive benefits from having an allotment is that it contributes to a sense of community.  On our patch there are people from a range of nationalities Greek, Indian, Romanian, Swedish, Finnish, and even the odd Scot, and occupations, nurses, surgeons, accountants, charity workers, IT managers,  airport maintenance staff and so on.  And despite our varied backgrounds, we all get on well together.  Many people have been very generous to Spuds and me, not only sharing their produce (red currants, rhubarb, cucumber and the rest) but surplus plants and equipment.  For example,  we were recently given a couple of aluminium cloche frames and we can't wait to get some of our seedlings going under their shelter.

Hard believe it today, but yesterday was warm sunshine down on our allotment. And as soon as we arrived, Spuds grabbed a spade and set to work.  Before long I  could hear warbling across the potato bed,  "Hi ho, Hi ho, it's off to work we go,"   from Spuds, Cloudberry and Flowerdew (if you want to hear them, then click read more a the bottom of this post and press the play button you see at the end of the post).  As I watched our first earlies, Pentland Javelin as it happens, were tossed into the air, and with a deft nod of the head flicked, one after the other,  into a long trench, 4 or 5 inches deep and about a foot apart.    Then it was the turn of the second earlies, Kestrel.  Admittedly we are bit late with both, but we have hope.  As for me, I busied myself planting up our latest fruit bushes, the red gooseberry and blackcurrants I referred to a few days ago    

Soon after we got our plot last summer, the 3rd member of our team, Old Bean, set to work clearing the 5 small beds we inherited.  Amongst the roots were a few small bulbs which we stored, and planted into our trusty barrow just before Christmas...  tulips are not known for their staying power, but we have to admit we are delighted with ours. 

I read recently that lemongrass can be grown at home from the stems sold by supermarkets for a few pence, so I thought I would have a go.   Apparently it can be encouraged to root hydroponically, in no more than a jam jar of water.  After a week all 5 stems have grown well over an inch, but there is no sign of any root as yet.

Supermarkets have more or less wiped out the greengrocers that were a feature of every high street in my youth. and with them went the recognition that food is - and should be - seasonal.  My local supermarket stocks "fresh" broccoli, potatoes and even strawberries throughout the year.  That is not traditional, and it is not natural.  And across the Channel it is not the norm. There markets continue to thrive in towns and villages, mostly selling locally sourced, and flavorsome, produce.  Vive la France !

Spent a couple of afternoons earlier this week potting up onions that I sowed last November.  In the meantime I have, of course, mislaid the packets.  One tray was Ailsa Craig, but the name of the others is now lost to posterity.  Nevertheless I ended up with around 80 individual plants, and assuming a reasonable portion survive, I should be on course for a few jars of onion marmalade.