Just returned from a meeting to decide if the plot holders on our site want to form an allotment society. The driving rain tonight probably kept a lot of people indoors, but the people who did turn up to represent the Norton Lees site were up for it.
So far, my understanding of allotment societies is that on the whole, they work, and have been very useful in terms of providing security for sites as well as skips for waste removal, and deliveries of manure for use by society members.
My interest comes from a very deep seated need for affiliation. I need to feel part of a group, or community otherwise I tend to feel very easily isolated and my efforts seem to be less important when I can't share it or learn from others.
Does anyone have any experience of allotment societies?
Thursday, 8 December 2011
Thursday, 1 December 2011
New Beginnings
Not going to be a long post - just enough to get me up and running again. Once again, not blogging doesn't mean I haven't been digging. We've had another very good and productive year, albeit with some failures, naturally.
Putting the brassicas beneath a young oak tree didn't help, but earlier this year my neighbour and I set to the surrounding bushes and trees with a petrol hedge trimmer and banished most of the shade from the top end. This was not achieved without pain.
My neighbour was fine, she is younger and sturdier than me - but days later my back collapsed with the strain of carrying (what felt like) a ton of metal around. We were a bit gung ho with the power tools, swinging it around like Arnie in Predator, but I didn't survive the encounter.
Well yes I did, I'm exaggerating. It was a while ago now.
I have to write something because now my neighbour has given up the plot. There was no acrimony or anything like that - she is simply carrying an addition to her family (and moving house). I don't think she is moving away because of me - having said that, I did once play the melodeon at her in the street, which would have embarrassed anyone enough to move to another town.
I had some immediate interest in the allotment. There is after all, a three year waiting list so I believe. So I asked her for the key to the site, thinking I would need it sooner rather than later. However, the two people who said they'd like to share the plot, had a think, and decided it was too much for them. I won't print my thoughts on that.
Funny though isn't it, how having just one shared interest with someone, can make you friends with that person when you probably have nothing else in common. My neighbour and I shared food and cooked it on the allotment. We had children who played together, who shared and explored a huge green space, and ate peas and raspberries together straight from the plants.
We got drunk together while choosing pumpkin varieties. We felt a shared sense of achievement when our efforts were rewarded with produce. That's all finished now. End of an era, in a way.
The plot has green manure on it, and some is covered. I'm leaving the parsnips in a bit longer, but other than that, it's a clean slate again, and I'm on my own next year. Wish me luck!
Here is a pic from early summer - before the growth really kicked in. I've taken lots of pics on my phone but I'm useless at technology and can't get them on to the pc. I will make a resolution to take the other camera in future.
Putting the brassicas beneath a young oak tree didn't help, but earlier this year my neighbour and I set to the surrounding bushes and trees with a petrol hedge trimmer and banished most of the shade from the top end. This was not achieved without pain.
My neighbour was fine, she is younger and sturdier than me - but days later my back collapsed with the strain of carrying (what felt like) a ton of metal around. We were a bit gung ho with the power tools, swinging it around like Arnie in Predator, but I didn't survive the encounter.
Well yes I did, I'm exaggerating. It was a while ago now.
I have to write something because now my neighbour has given up the plot. There was no acrimony or anything like that - she is simply carrying an addition to her family (and moving house). I don't think she is moving away because of me - having said that, I did once play the melodeon at her in the street, which would have embarrassed anyone enough to move to another town.
I had some immediate interest in the allotment. There is after all, a three year waiting list so I believe. So I asked her for the key to the site, thinking I would need it sooner rather than later. However, the two people who said they'd like to share the plot, had a think, and decided it was too much for them. I won't print my thoughts on that.
Funny though isn't it, how having just one shared interest with someone, can make you friends with that person when you probably have nothing else in common. My neighbour and I shared food and cooked it on the allotment. We had children who played together, who shared and explored a huge green space, and ate peas and raspberries together straight from the plants.
We got drunk together while choosing pumpkin varieties. We felt a shared sense of achievement when our efforts were rewarded with produce. That's all finished now. End of an era, in a way.
The plot has green manure on it, and some is covered. I'm leaving the parsnips in a bit longer, but other than that, it's a clean slate again, and I'm on my own next year. Wish me luck!
Here is a pic from early summer - before the growth really kicked in. I've taken lots of pics on my phone but I'm useless at technology and can't get them on to the pc. I will make a resolution to take the other camera in future.
Monday, 11 October 2010
Forking Hell
I keep forgetting my camera, which is making this blog too wordy and means I'm unable to prove a) a chicken egg found in one of the carrot boxes, and b) my neighbour's amazonian strength when using a gardening fork.
The chicken egg was weighted, and clearly dead, so we didn't want to look inside. It was obviously nicked and buried by a cheeky creature who thought we wouldn't notice.
My neighbour stuck her gardening fork in the ground to dig a patch for our dormant goosebob bushes to move into. Our plot is very stony, and after she'd dug up half a small cottage worth of stones, she got one caught in the tines. After pulling on the fork, she brought it out of the ground to reveal it pointing with one finger, as if to say 'that was you, that was.' Ooh we did laff.
Being the hardy young lass that she is (guffaw), she carried on with the bent fork regardless, and we got the job done.
The sun was out today, but it was hard work. It wasn't just my arthritic knee. I'm quite young (guffaw) to have such a thing wrong with me, but it was the fact that I'd only had two slices of toast for breakfast, and we were out there till 3pm with no lunch. My neighbour is a slave driver.
We also planted some bulbs today, to lift our spirits come next Spring. I tried to plant them in the letters of my daughter's name but some stones got stuck in the third letter. I'm not going to mention it to anyone.
The chicken egg was weighted, and clearly dead, so we didn't want to look inside. It was obviously nicked and buried by a cheeky creature who thought we wouldn't notice.
My neighbour stuck her gardening fork in the ground to dig a patch for our dormant goosebob bushes to move into. Our plot is very stony, and after she'd dug up half a small cottage worth of stones, she got one caught in the tines. After pulling on the fork, she brought it out of the ground to reveal it pointing with one finger, as if to say 'that was you, that was.' Ooh we did laff.
Being the hardy young lass that she is (guffaw), she carried on with the bent fork regardless, and we got the job done.
The sun was out today, but it was hard work. It wasn't just my arthritic knee. I'm quite young (guffaw) to have such a thing wrong with me, but it was the fact that I'd only had two slices of toast for breakfast, and we were out there till 3pm with no lunch. My neighbour is a slave driver.
We also planted some bulbs today, to lift our spirits come next Spring. I tried to plant them in the letters of my daughter's name but some stones got stuck in the third letter. I'm not going to mention it to anyone.
Monday, 4 October 2010
Summer over. Over Winter.
We've learned a few lessons this year, and that's without the benefit of a gardening course. As far as learning curves go, this one is long, but never dull. It is still good however, to be working this plot with my neighbour, as it means the plot is always an enjoyable job to be done, rather than another discarded hobby, left to the weeds of demotivation. It makes finding a pristine, unbroken full sized bath at the top of our allotment a fun discovery instead of just a practical one. I would always recommend sharing a plot now.
The second installment of my gardening course at Meersbrook park had a more promising turnout, but it poured it down all day, so we stayed under cover and discussed the merits of artificial compost. I still don't know what the benefits of artificial composting are, as apparently I can't buy the raw ingredients (Coir anyone?) nearby anyway. I can order it online though. I need to look into this, because it is used as an alternative to peat, but I haven't yet researched how much peat there is in the bags of compost you can buy anywhere.
I also now know, that if I'm going to make some up, I'll need sand, especially in the newly acquired carrot bath. Our carrots are lovely (albeit small) this year, grown in home-made and reclaimed boxes (due to clay soil and carrot fly larvae), but they were grown in small receptacles, so we could get a larger crop next year.
We've sown mustard and rye, and will sow field beans for our green manure. We've now put our alliums in, for over wintering. Our red onions failed last year. We think we planted them too deep, but we also reckon the packets come with different instructions every time (that's our excuse). Our courgettes are finished now, but were one of our great successes along with the potatoes. The peas were great too. The brassicas are coming along, and as by all accounts the squashes must come out now, we might have to pick our small fist sized ones, even though it's still a healthy looking plant with lots of flowers still on it. Any advice?
The second installment of my gardening course at Meersbrook park had a more promising turnout, but it poured it down all day, so we stayed under cover and discussed the merits of artificial compost. I still don't know what the benefits of artificial composting are, as apparently I can't buy the raw ingredients (Coir anyone?) nearby anyway. I can order it online though. I need to look into this, because it is used as an alternative to peat, but I haven't yet researched how much peat there is in the bags of compost you can buy anywhere.
I also now know, that if I'm going to make some up, I'll need sand, especially in the newly acquired carrot bath. Our carrots are lovely (albeit small) this year, grown in home-made and reclaimed boxes (due to clay soil and carrot fly larvae), but they were grown in small receptacles, so we could get a larger crop next year.
We've sown mustard and rye, and will sow field beans for our green manure. We've now put our alliums in, for over wintering. Our red onions failed last year. We think we planted them too deep, but we also reckon the packets come with different instructions every time (that's our excuse). Our courgettes are finished now, but were one of our great successes along with the potatoes. The peas were great too. The brassicas are coming along, and as by all accounts the squashes must come out now, we might have to pick our small fist sized ones, even though it's still a healthy looking plant with lots of flowers still on it. Any advice?
Friday, 24 September 2010
'Secret' Gardens
One way to increase your gardening knowledge is to go on a course, which I have done. Today. 'Practical Gardening in the Walled Garden, Meersbrook Park' for its full title. Six of us have joined up. We need another four for it to run. If you are reading this and interested, sign up now!
If it doesn't, then I have learned some things already from today. I may struggle to write them down however, as my 20 month old daughter has been inserting her tiny fingers in the keyboard of the laptop, and the 'a' key is dodgy. I'm typing very carefully but the the key keeps falling off, or not working.
I never knew that aspirin came from the Willow, or that you could treat bruises with Comfrey. I feel a bit daft admitting to that, as I'm old enough to know. I just thought it was a nitrogen fixer.
We'll be planning a herbacious border, doing a winter pruning, taking hand wood cuttings and naming grden plants using scientific names (it says here). I'm interested in veg and herbs primarily but this is all transferable knowledge.
So we'll be learning about composting and herbs, a bit of veg and studying weeds - otherwise known as 'plants you don't want just there.' Didn't know that did you?
Meersbrook Walled garden is run by volunteers, who took it over just four years ago after it was lain to waste. Hard to believe when you look at it now. The Japanese Garden is wonderful, and when you ask anyone there about it, you can feel the love that has been put into it.
After a bit of weeding, I was allowed to take home with me, an Astrantia, for my allotment. I shall sit it by the Lemon Balm on the border tomorrow.
Astrantias are superb perennials for under trees, on a streambank or in a moist border.
While botanical Latin tells us a great deal about a plant, few varietal names are as illuminating. The outstanding Astrantia major subsp involucrata 'Shaggy' is an exception. Instead of displaying the usual crisp symmetry and sharp points, the bracts are pinched in the middle and much cut, drawing out into wide green and white stars. Shaggy perfectly describes its unkempt look and rascally charm.
Carol Klein in the Telegraph, where they say you can buy one plant for about £7. I just got mine for nowt!
If it doesn't, then I have learned some things already from today. I may struggle to write them down however, as my 20 month old daughter has been inserting her tiny fingers in the keyboard of the laptop, and the 'a' key is dodgy. I'm typing very carefully but the the key keeps falling off, or not working.
I never knew that aspirin came from the Willow, or that you could treat bruises with Comfrey. I feel a bit daft admitting to that, as I'm old enough to know. I just thought it was a nitrogen fixer.
We'll be planning a herbacious border, doing a winter pruning, taking hand wood cuttings and naming grden plants using scientific names (it says here). I'm interested in veg and herbs primarily but this is all transferable knowledge.
So we'll be learning about composting and herbs, a bit of veg and studying weeds - otherwise known as 'plants you don't want just there.' Didn't know that did you?
Meersbrook Walled garden is run by volunteers, who took it over just four years ago after it was lain to waste. Hard to believe when you look at it now. The Japanese Garden is wonderful, and when you ask anyone there about it, you can feel the love that has been put into it.
After a bit of weeding, I was allowed to take home with me, an Astrantia, for my allotment. I shall sit it by the Lemon Balm on the border tomorrow.
Astrantias are superb perennials for under trees, on a streambank or in a moist border.
While botanical Latin tells us a great deal about a plant, few varietal names are as illuminating. The outstanding Astrantia major subsp involucrata 'Shaggy' is an exception. Instead of displaying the usual crisp symmetry and sharp points, the bracts are pinched in the middle and much cut, drawing out into wide green and white stars. Shaggy perfectly describes its unkempt look and rascally charm.
Carol Klein in the Telegraph, where they say you can buy one plant for about £7. I just got mine for nowt!
Thursday, 2 September 2010
R.I.P Tomatoes
I couldn't agree more, M. As I was digging the black stalky remains of the tomatoes out to be burned I felt gutted. 'Every silver lining has a cloud', as M would say. We have agreed that planting in pots or bags is the way to go for next time.
However, the last of the summer sunshine has lifted our spirits and provided us with a crop of potatoes to last the rest of the year. Baked on the barbecue, less than a minute out of the ground, they were the best I've ever tasted.
There is still a lot of hard work ahead, but I'm looking forward to it.
However, the last of the summer sunshine has lifted our spirits and provided us with a crop of potatoes to last the rest of the year. Baked on the barbecue, less than a minute out of the ground, they were the best I've ever tasted.
There is still a lot of hard work ahead, but I'm looking forward to it.
Blight and Barbecues - An Existential Quandary
Nearing the end of today's spell on the plot, watching quicksilver droplets running over brassica leaves after their leap from the watering can's rose, I can't help it when my mind begins to ponder the allotment cycle from the point-of-view of the plants.
Does the blighted tomato really feel any different about its ultimate fate than the potato, the corn cob or the courgette? For each they have the same destiny, ripped from the ground and tossed onto the fire. Does it matter whether it is the Pink Fir Apple, given a jacket of tinfoil and placed on the barbecue next to a fine pork sausage? Or whether it is the blight-ridden tomato, its still green skin bubbling and blistering in the fierce flames of the brazier?
Ahem ... hem ... it really has been hot today and I forgot my hat.
Does the blighted tomato really feel any different about its ultimate fate than the potato, the corn cob or the courgette? For each they have the same destiny, ripped from the ground and tossed onto the fire. Does it matter whether it is the Pink Fir Apple, given a jacket of tinfoil and placed on the barbecue next to a fine pork sausage? Or whether it is the blight-ridden tomato, its still green skin bubbling and blistering in the fierce flames of the brazier?
Ahem ... hem ... it really has been hot today and I forgot my hat.
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