Skating on Thin Ice

It's been a heartbreaking week. First I went up to the allotment on Wednesday and discovered all my courgettes, half my corn, and two of my tomato plants had been killed off by an overnight frost. Then, on Friday, came the news that Monty Don had suffered a mild stroke and will no longer present Gardeners' World. I really didn't want to face my friend to tell her what had happened to her plants. Luckily, she was so sedated she examined the grizzly evidence of the brown muck that was all that was left of her squash plants with admirable aplomb. It was our leader who almost collapsed over the stricken hotbed, mumbling, 'I had no idea, there was no sign of frost in my village.' He reacted like a kind old grandpa, offering to buy me some more courgettes...not even arguing when I insisted these should be not just any old courgettes but the yellow and Italian ones I really like. Finally, of course, there's been the fiasco of the Eurovision Song Contest. Last again! I have to admit here I actually voted for the Russian entry as soon as I realised the iceskater was none other than Evgeny Plushenko who I absolutely adore beyond all measure. Bloody Terry Wogan...yes, he of the Testicular Wardrobe Malfunction... didn't even know who he was! (H and I also liked the Spanish entry as we were following all the dance moves by the end. We both thought it was the best representation of European Culture since the Chicken Song). Anyway, I think the right entry won, so there.
Oh, and another thing before I go. I had an e-mail from James suggesting I grow some carrots between the rows of onions as then they would be protected from carrot fly. James, for heaven's sake, don't you understand anything? I am not allowed to grow ANYTHING between the onions as these are the sole property of our revered leader, who is not at all possessive (unlike me).

Winning Ways

What a weekend! On Saturday H and I went to view a house that I'm mad keen on but he wasn't sure about. Sunday was all about WINNING HIM ROUND. It was a weird day actually. Just as I entered church one of the wardens swept past me, shouting, 'I'm sick of being treated like a complete moron. It's too bloody loud, I tell you! I'm leaving!' Problems with the music evidently. Of course, everyone was shaken, and some in tears, so it made carrying on with the service (wildly celebrating Christ's entry into Jerusalem) a bit tough. But we soldiered on. Husband, too, was blustery and irritable, as all misgivings he had about the house were firmly put aside. I blame it all on this awful stormy weather we've suffered all week. Not a single client turned up to the allotment on Friday. Depression seemed to be hanging over all of us. Our leader was wingeing on and on about how mouldy the potatoes sold to him by the Head of the Allotments (whom I call The Curmudgeon) are. I kept telling him, 'Look you need to talk to her about it...there she is over there..' He pretended he couldn't see her. Still sore from the telling off she gave him about his fire last week. Anyway, myself and another volunteer managed to finish the largest hotbed, and clear another area ready for some asparagus I've ordered. You'll be pleased to hear the cutting-edge laundry basket hotbed has produced a great display of coriander. So it works! The garden's looking great---the slideshow hardly does it justice. The Vincas are producing a lovely carpet of mauvy-blue in the darkest corner, and the scented narcissi near the house are just lovely. Oh, nearly forgot to tell you, I got the winner in the Cheltenham Champion Hurdle and third in the Gold Cup so won a nice sum of money. Another hot tip for those of you trying to feed your gardening addiction on a limited budget. Would you all be more interested in a betting blog than an organic gardening one, I wonder?

A Blustery Day

Golly, what a day! Severe weather warnings across the country. My little garden is in the midst of a whirlwind. Bits flying everywhere. Guess what was the first to go? The silly bird seed bells, of course. So much for conservation. But wait, I hear you say, what happened on the allotment on Friday? Lots. First of all I found my dear friend had taken an overdose since I had been away and had spent some time in intensive care. (Yes, folks, what we do on this allotment, is actually serious stuff: we are dealing with very vulnerable people). Anyway, she was, as you can imagine, not feeling too bright, and certainly did not want anything to stressful to be happening around her. We started quietly filling in the largest Victorian hotbed as she told me what had been bothering her. Suddenly, we became aware that, on the other side of the allotment, and very close to where one of our neighbours had placed his new shed covered with plastic sheeting, flames were leaping into the air. Our esteemed leader had chosen to set light to an enormous pile of rubbish in a high wind. Fellow gardeners, thinking that such a conflagration could only have been started by one of the mad members of the group, ran to our plot in horror. My friend and I hid in our ditch and contemplated covering ourselves in the rest of the soil so that no-one would notice us. I tell you, our leader is embarrassing at times! Luckily, the flames failed to reach the plastic by inches and within half an hour or so the blaze was in hand. Later, over coffee I asked our leader what on earth had possessed him to light a fire in such conditions. "I don't know", he said, "I wasn't going to light it until next week. Then suddenly, I though, why not?...The next think I knew I had the matches in my hand and...." After that we sipped our drinks in silence.
There's nothing like horticultural therapy at times, I can tell you. Oh by the way, I hope you like the new slideshow of the garden. I just wish I could call it something else other than 'slideshow'. If anyone knows the secret of this, please tell me.

Pond Ponderings

Didn't go to the allotment on Friday as I had a bout of TMJ (temporo-mandibular joint problem if you must know!), probably brought on by my over enthusiastic activities with the steam cleaner. But this gives me the chance to talk more about what this blog was supposed to be about in the first place: turning a tiny space into a wildlife garden as cheaply as possible. I'm now reaping the rewards of last Autumn's endeavours. You will recall that then I bought some scented narcissi and a big bag of crocuses. My careful purchasing techniques meant that in doing this I received 50 miniature narcissi free and also got a cute wooden wheelbarrow also stuffed full of free bulbs. Well the freebies have really taken off and I wash-up each morning facing a golden glow. The rest are not far behind, so Spring is full of promise. Those of you not familiar with my blog can see from the banner picture that it seems to consist of little else other than a pond. There were several reasons for this. If you read anything, anywhere about wildlife gardens you will learn that having a pond makes more difference to the numbers and variety of wildlife attracted than any other single feature. Also I visited my local Botanic Gardens and discovered that there is a fear that in the future this area will be subject to drought and that many of our native species will die out. Their suggestion for overcoming this (and saving water) was the planting of a 'dry' garden. Feeling that preserving our native wildlife is of paramount importance, I was horrified by this and decided to make a sustainable 'wet' garden: a large water-butt was my first purchase! Thirdly, most of the houses where I live are 'buy-to-let', the lettees being students. Most of the landlords, being horrified at the state the students leave the gardens, have either shingled or concreted over the back yards, thus making it impossible for any wildlife to thrive. I decided to to make my wet garden attractive yet sustainable and robust enough to withstand the worst attacks of possible student neglect! So anyway, I've been doing this for the last year, trouble is I started volunteering at the allotment, and that is a lot more entertaining to write about. So you'll have to forgive me if I sometimes get diverted onto other subjects.

Arctic Monkeys

I'm sure you're all wondering what an earth has happened to me, as there was no allotment posting last week. Well, you'll just have to excuse me, but things have been quite frantic here as I now have over 50 Facebook friends to deal with plus my usual bin responsibilities, clearing up after the cats, etc etc etc. Anyway last week we went to the allotment and got on with our hotbeds. The only happening of note was that milk had leaked into my woolly hat during the journey, so that when I put the hat on the entire contents of a cow's udder dripped down over my face. This week I planted some Alstroemeria 'Planet Mixed' (free from Thompson and Morgan!) whilst my friend shovelled more shit and our revered leader found that we had a large buried tree under the section where nothing had grown last year. Unfortunately, I was also suffering from a major wardrobe malfunction which meant a large gap kept appearing between my trousers and my jacket, the consequence being I not only nearly froze to death during my planting procedures but now I need to go to the loo about every ten minutes. Let this be a warning to you: when out in Arctic Conditions always wear a full length coat. Other exciting news this week: I have been invited to join a sort of neighbourhood watch group which evidently exists to ensure that our local streets remain pristine. Their main activity seems to be taking away people's bins when they've been left out on the street too long and then making them pay to get them back. What larks!

The Basket Case.

Thank goodness things are back to normal---a wonderful Friday spent shovelling horse manure at the allotment. To be honest, I wasn't sure this week that I didn't have the dreaded virus that is going round: I had 'the runs' and I certainly felt sick. But then, as we all know, I am a hypochondriac, so we can't be sure. Anyway, I felt a lot better after getting started on the hotbeds. I made a small one on my own using an old laundry basket (hush, we may be at the cutting edge of organic gardening here, I'll let you know of its progress.) I got started on another in an ex-compost bin, and the third, real Victorian one, was marked out with plastic posts by our leader...I'm sure you're all at the edge of your seats by now wondering how to make a Victorian Hotbed, so here goes. You basically dig a hole between two and four feet deep. You then at least half fill this hole with horse manure which you then walk on to squash down. You then put the soil back, but adding compost as you go so you end up with a 1:1 mixture. You cover the whole thing over with something transparent like glass or polythene. As you can tell from the above, I'm trying to do some small ones without the digging to see if they work. The point of it all is that you end up with a really hot, well fertilised, patch where you can grow things at least a month early. Next week some of the blokes will hopefully turn up and do a bit of digging...As for the rest of the plot...well, the broad beans are doing fine, but the onions I planted seem to have caught damping off or something (I think they knew they weren't loved, don't you?). Oh yes, in case you're wondering. The reason I had an old laundry basket was because I bought a new one in the new John Lewis's in Cambridge---reduced from £30 to £10! What a day that was. I celebrated by having a salmon and scrambled egg breakfast in their restaurant, with waitress service...Even we greens have our moments.

Shakin' Stevens

I wasn't going to write to you today, but it's been such a RED LETTER DAY, as we say, that I thought I must. As you know we had no allotment group scheduled so I agreed to collect money for our mental health charity outside Tescos. Of course, I dressed for the occasion with my new bright red furry jacket, large Russian hat (well it was freezing cold), and natty little mouse pin whose eyes light up and play Jingle Bells when its nose is pressed. I was soon into the swing of things calling out, 'Save the Mad. We can't help it!' and gathering in pots of money, when our leader informed me I mustn't use the word mad as it would upset the others. But, I said, I'm mad myself. Really, he said, I would never have guessed. But, I said, I thought we were all mad in this charity. Surely you're not telling me you're sane? He took my point. Suddenly he did something quite amazing and totally illegal: he shook his tin! Despite my protests he continued. Won't it be fun when we get arrested? he kept saying. Eventually the store manager came out and told him to stop. Anyway, it was great fun for an hour, but I have to say two and a half hours (which I later found out I'd been scheduled to do) was a bit much. I was amazed at how generous the citizens of Cambridge were, especially as this week we've had a real shock. We've been told we must put out next week's bins a day early and the week after next's a day later. It's all so complex! I came home to find the street deserted. Perhaps everyone has cracked under the strain? How relieved I was to enter my front door and find the beautiful pot pourri I'd made still in place and covering the rampant smell of cat's (or cats') pee magnificently. If you want to know how it's done: you open a few packets of spices from the local Indian (or Pakistani) shop into a large tray; over the top of this you place bay leaves, rosemary and sprigs of anything with red berries; then you nestle in amongst this four oranges which have been generously spiked with whole cloves. So simple, so cheap, and quite, quite wonderful!

Time for bed

Oh lordy, I don't know what to say. I was just going to make a quick check on my blog this morning, only to find something totally untoward has happened with the banner photo. It's disappeared up its own arse, that's what! As I've no idea how to put this in computer language, I don't know if I can restore it for you. Oh, poor festive readers. What a thrill you are missing! No doubt, though, you are not too bothered about that, as you've come to hear about the allotment. Yes, well the little group went up there on Friday, inspected the pile of manure, and decided to have some heartwarming cocoa and biscuits. I took up the BBC Gardeners' World magazine free calendar, which is quite magnificent this year, as a gift for the shed. We also inspected our broad beans, onion sets and garlic, all of which are doing well. People think you don't do anything in an allotment over winter---I hope I've convinced you otherwise. We were very busy harvesting our three remaining parsnips, comparing our Wellington boots, and dunking our biscuits. We decided to leave the digging of the Victorian hot bed until next year...The garden, too, looks a picture of quiet contentedness. Most mornings now the pond is frozen over and I can see an abundance of bulbs poking through the wet earth. Another fun-packed year is coming to an end.

Mistletoe and whine...

Lordy, where to start? This week we actually got to the allotment and found about 2 tons of manure parked not where we'd asked for it but in the space planned for the greenhouse. Oh well, it could have been worse. At least they left the shed standing...Obviously 2 tons of manure is too much even for a very ample Victorian hotbed, so we started working out what else we could do with it, with the result that our soft fruit bushes now have an ample duvet covering which should see them through the worst of winter. I then nearly killed myself trying to transplant 2 gooseberry bushes into the plot. Realising I was risking yet another back injury I asked the men (who were all tottering around the mower---they like it because it makes lots of noise), to kindly do the third one while I made the tea. It only took three of them...I got home to find all my Vincas (do you remember them?), and my Chinese lanterns had been delivered. Of course it's done nothing but pour with rain ever since, so I've had no chance to plant them. I continue to have trouble in hyperspace....I was informed this morning that I need to kiss 19 more people under the mistletoe before I can move on to the next level (evidently there's a whole heap of more interesting things you can do under mistletoe than just kiss people---the rest of the world knows about this, I don't). Well, I thought I'd just inform my friends (27!) of this, when I discovered that all my applications had shut down. Will be visiting the doctor next week to get more tablets...

You looking at me?

It looked as though it was going to be a very quiet week. Afterall, we didn't even make it to the allotment. Our leader still has back problems, and when we arrived at base camp we found that a large bring and buy sale was in progress. It was a tough choice. Horticultural or retail therapy? Retail therapy won hands down, of course. So we were soon all ferreting away in endless cardboard boxes finding those little gems we never thought we'd need. I walked off with a nesting box, an aromatherapy set and a VERY surprise gift for Husband. Then, on Saturday night, H and myself were just snuggling down on the sofa ready for a quiet night of TV viewing, when Roland Garros arrived bleeding profusely from his back paw. Our stairwell quickly took on the look of a Quentin Tarantino movie as we tried to catch the cat and clean his paw. We eventually got him on a towel on our bed. I pinned him down and H did the necessary work with the bandage (not easy for H as he tends to faint at the sight of blood). I managed to keep Roland G still for an hour with his paw upright and the bleeding stopped. Just as well, as, as soon as I let him go, he removed the bandage completely. Anyway, the next day Roland G was fine but H and myself were completely exhausted. I still feel wiped out this morning and barely had time to write this log as my Facebook activities are taking longer each day. I now have 23 friends! Today, however, I accidently deleted my Robert de Niro talking dog video which upset me a great deal. The whole system seemed a bit odd today. My jigging hamster seemed to set itself off, and then I ended up sending stuff to everyone which I thought I'd only sent to one person. Then I tried to apologise to everyone and the system went bananas and I found that everything I was doing was sent out twice. I had to stop, calm down and do a little light housework, I can tell you. There are days when I regret my ventures into hyperspace....

A Bad Wind...

Oh, Dear Readers, I'm hardly upright this morning after yesterday's events at the allotment. We had barely got to the office where we meet up where we were told that a 'promotional video' was going to be made of our activities that morning. Of course, some of us were a little unhappy about this, as, having been given no warning whatsoever, we'd had no time either to dress for the occasion or learn appropriate dance routines. We were told this wouldn't matter. When we arrived at the allotment, we were told they wanted to film a variety of activities. So all our plans of last week went out the window. I was left planting....guess what? ONION SETS!!! Imagine, dear readers, my humiliation, I'm actually filmed for posterity planting my unfavourite crop of all time...Of course, it could only go downhill from that point. After finishing planting, I was told to set up the tea things so we could be filmed having a pretend planning meeting! Oh, yes, let's go into fantasy land shall we, with a bunch of people suffering from severe mental health conditions? Good idea! Anyway, I started getting all the chairs etc out, when suddenly I saw our leader a few yards away mouthing to me, 'Me back's gone again!' He couldn't move an inch, so I went over to him and started to massage the affected area. At this point the cameraman came towards us filming the whole thing...That was the point at which I lost it. I told him our leader was in pain and needed a chair AND TO BLOODY WELL HELP ME!!! Luckily, at that point we had a new client arrive who had some paracetemol so we were able to help with the pain a bit. So then we continued with the filming of our 'meeting'. I should say at this point that there was a gale force wind blowing straight from the Arctic yesterday. You may have heard about it on the news. Then the pr people ooh'd and aah'd at their lovely photos in our shed...We eventually managed to get our leader back to his car, clear up the mess, and go home...If this doesn't stop you volunteering in your community nothing will.

An Apple A Day...

I expect you' ve been wondering what I've been doing. On Friday I went to the allotment as usual. Getting there was a bit traumatic as I discovered I couldn't turn my windscreen wipers off. To make matters worse I was just demonstrating the problem to the clients when I accidently sprayed one of them copiously with windscreen cleaner fluid (My, that stuff travels!). Anyway I finally managed to find the 'off' position and we got down to planting our Autumn broad beans (very important to plant broad beans in the Autums so that they ripen before the blackfly come out---Aquadulce is the best sort). We also got in some fine pink garlic (much milder than the white varieties) and onion sets. I don't want to say anything more about onion sets as they are tedious. If it was up to me we wouldn't plant onion sets...Anyway the next day I discovered I couldn't turn my battery operated toothbrush off. Spooky! My much toothpaste-soiled Husband and I then argued about what we would do with the day. I suggested Swaffham, as the newspaper said they were celebrating Apple Day at the eco-tech centre there. When we got there the whole place was closed, so we spent the afternoon in Swaffham. An experience not to be missed if you want to pick up some cheap agricultural implements (but not worth it otherwise!). I mustn't be too rude as I picked up a really lovely bay tree for the allotment for under £5.00. I then realised that I hadn't mentioned Apple Day to any of you, and I'd completely forgotten about Blog Action Day---a day when all of us with Blogs were supposed to unite and write something environmental. I can't remember if I did or not....Oh blast! I finally got to the Apple Day at our Botanic Gardens. The queues just to taste a bloody apple had to be seen to be believed! I could barely get near the things, and ended up taking photos of the lovely Autumn colours instead. I've included one for you to look at.

Record Breakers?

Phew!! What a day yesterday was. For the first time, I was in charge of the allotment group. What an honour! We had a ceremonial planting of three blackcurrant bushes (RHS Gold Medal Winners no less) in the new, untampered, SOFT FRUIT PLOT. I don't know if everyone really appreciated all my instructions on how to plant a bush, but we were all quite tired at the end of if all and spent most of the rest of the time setting up the tea and biscuit table. The arrival of my new pink car onto the allotment caused quite a stir---I seemed to attract every other allotment owner in the vicinity. Great Jollity and Happimosity was had by all. None of my admirers was quite Monty Don, but there's hope yet. When I got home, and after my usual viewing of Bargain Hunt, I went out and planted ALL the remaining crocuses in my garden. I don't know if so many bulbs have ever been planted in such a small patch. Perhaps I should contact the Guinness Book of Records? I went to sleep as usual dreaming of fame and instant glory. Reading my newspaper this morning (husband is here so he kindly dealt with the frogs in the living room), I noticed an article on http://www.freecycle.org/ which struck me as a very good thing to join if you want to swap leftover bulbs or any other item that you might need or have over from your gardening escapades. I joined this morning. I suggest you do too.

W*nkers!

Thank you all for the overwhelming, hyperspacial response to my plea for friends. I now have a third one. And I've just ordered a set of really nice Vincas from the Guardian newspaper. Now, I know that will upset some of you because you'll say to yourself 'Oh, no not Latin names...How can we ever hope to become gardeners if we don't know any Latin?' Well it's simple, you just associate every Latin word with something crude, and you learn in no time. Vincas is a good case in point. I first learnt about these plants from a friend who said, 'You need to put some Vincas under that tree'. As she was German and pronounced her Vs as Ws and i's as a's, I nearly fell over laughing. It doesn't help that in English they are known as periwinkles. Anyway, because I'm now putting W*nkers in all my shady places (well, perhaps not quite all...). I'm not going to need so many bulbs so these are going to the allotment. How is that going? Don't ask. Yesterday we had two major fruit tree arguments. As I said to one of the clients, gardening with others is certainly a good way to hone up on one's assertiveness skills. Anyway, I stumbled home only to find that the Post Office has gone on strike, so now I may go for months without a license and, more importantly without a residents' parking space for my new car. Yes, my NEW CAR. An absolutely adorable SMART Passion in silver and bright pink. And before you start, it's not really 'new' but heavily recycled---the paint job being an added feature so I can never lose it in a car park. (I don't know if this is a feature of bipolar disorder or just me...).

A Cheery Cherry Planting Day

Well, I'm sure you're all wondering by now how the allotment opening day went. Fine, thank you. Actually the whole day has been somewhat stressful. First I went downstairs to find a frog on the draining board. I let it swim around in the sink while I got my coffee, and then we had to go through the whole charade of the nude trip to the pond again. Afterwards I trod on my glasses, my 'second' pair, though the ones I usually take to the allotment with me (as my first ones are "Miu mius"---huh, eat your heart out NHS subscribers!). On arriving at the allotment I found that the leader had bought two enormous flowering cherry trees which he was planning to have the visiting dignitaries plant in an area which a couple of clients and myself had spent two months clearing for a soft fruit patch. A rather heated discussion followed---the result of which was that I had to dig two large holes for the trees at the far side of the allotment. The weather wasn't pleasant, but the really hard rain only really set in as the dignitaries arrived. I don't quite know how I got mud up my nose but several people alluded to it. We all had our pictures taken pretending to plant one of the trees. And pretending to be VERY HAPPY INDEED about the whole thing, even though by this time we were all soaking wet. The usual pr job. Then tea and biscuits were passed round and polite conversation was made. It was great fun watching the dignitaries trying to figure out which of us could be considered 'mentally ill'----I was talked to very, very, slowly on at least two occasions, and almost felt I should let slip about the petrol poisoning episode last week. But I kept a dignified silence. Oh, by the way, it's now official. I have TWO friends!

Mental Health Patients Nearly Poisoned by Allotment Volunteer

Yesterday was allotment day again, and I made a mega-mistake. I washed all the mugs out with petrol! How on earth did you manage this, you ask yourself? Well, the petrol was in a washing up liquid bottle, brought for that day by the group leader to fill the lawn mower. So, I could have poisoned the 'vulnerable adults' in my care, or at the very least made them highly combustible. Luckily I realised my error and cleaned everything up before anyone drank anything. But surely you should have smelt the petrol, you say? Well, yes, I did think the smell was odd, but I thought that was down to it being very cheap washing up liquid, and decided not to make a fuss. You see, I was taught very strongly that one should never, ever MAKE A FUSS...and this is why I often keep quiet when I should speak up (like most Brits...). Only other news was that my strawberries, so lovingly planted last week, had wilted badly, due to the dry windy conditions. I do hope something manages to stay alive for next week's opening. I got home to find the crocus bulbs I'd ordered have arrived so I've now got 100 bulbs to plant in the area of an egg cup. Should be interesting.

Strawberry Fields Forever

Just got back from the allotment, where I volunteer for a local mental health charity, absolutely exhausted after planting a few strawberries. I don't think it was the strawberries that caused the exhaustion as trying to organise the drinks and biscuits for everyone (well just 6 of us actually!). Um, perhaps that wasn't it either...I think it was because I'm trying so hard to get ready for our official opening in two weeks time and feel there is so much to do, when most of the people who turn up immediately seem to show a deep aversion to gardening---one can't say anything, of course, because we are all, including myself, EXTREMELY SENSITIVE. Honestly, by the time I get home I feel totally shattered. Still at least everyone looked happy when they got back in the car and we all got a good share of fresh veg and some fruit. I was approached today by the pr woman asking me if I would appear in the local papers as someone with mental health problems. I said it wasn't a good idea, as I preparing to beam everything about myself to the far reaches of the universe on the internet instead. She said she quite understood. My teaching yesterday went quite well. The students seemed quite accepting of the fact that I was dressed in a pair of bright red devil's horns and large reflecting sunglasses for part of the lesson---though they did mention that this rarely happens during class in Bulgaria.