Eat No Onions or Garlic..

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Shakespeare once wrote-:

“And, most dear actors, eat no onions or garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath”

-‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’-

Well, Willy, to thee I say, ”Cobblers!” Garlic is the soul to good cooking.  And to prove my disobedience to the great bard, I decided to get my garlic cloves into the ground this week, now that autumn is here.

So all being well, this time next year we shall be reeking of Lautrec, Provence and Elephant Garlic, and as I’ve got a little extra space leftover, I’m also thinking of adding a fourth type, but what shall it be?..

Back to you, Willy!

“Our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners”

-‘Othello’-

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First Failed Crop of the Year

It’s only been a month since I planted our savoy cabbage plugs. A month since I tucked them into their little beds, gave them a good drink, and Ade covered them with netting to protect them from pests.

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Pah! Fat lot of good that did. Ade checked on them a couple of days ago and they were ravaged with whitefly. Clouds of them puffed into the air when he removed the nets, and the underside of the leaves were teeming with eggs. Despite his best efforts, Ade had to get rid of the entire crop.

I wondered how the whitefly had managed to penetrate the netting but Ade wonders whether the plugs were already infected; he bought them cheaply off Ebay, which is perhaps a lesson for us. I didn’t notice anything amiss when I planted them though.

I suppose we’ve done quite well on the whole. We’ve had such success with all our other crops, and it is only our first year on the allotment, but I’m still annoyed. Particularly as it was one of the few crops I planted. Him indoors does most of the planting, and he seems to have nothing but success with his crops. Hmph!

Onwards and upwards. At least the broccoli is coming along okay. (No, I didn’t plant it. That’s right, he did.)

I’m not saying any more about it.

Harrumph!
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Floral Trumpets

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With all this sunshine recently, it’s odd to think that in a few days’ time it’ll be October. In fact, it’s already autumn, yet I’m still parading up and down the allotment in a t-shirt and shorts. Whether this is a happy one-off or Mother Nature’s response to man’s constant attack on her resources prompting global warming, I couldn’t say.1

But an allotment needs work whatever the weather, and this weekend was no exception. Today, I started thinking ahead to the point in the year when the frost loosens his icy grip to reveal drifts of golden blooms that hold their trumpets aloft as they herald the passing of winter.  That’s right, today I planted my daffodil bulbs for next spring!

In fact, I had such a good day up at the plot, I threw together a little visual treat for you.  Hope you enjoy it.

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