Spring 2012 – Here we go again…
The one predictable thing about the British weather is, I suppose, its unpredictability. It’s one of the things that makes gardening here endlessly fascinating and challenging, and one of the reasons why you never know from year to year how things will go on the plot, which crops will succeed spectacularly and which will be abject failures.
In March’s spell of unpredictably warm weather I planted my broad beans, started off at home, and they’re coming along well. The garlic that had been languishing on the shelf since January went in too and it’s shooting up. Potatoes next, nicely chitted and raring to go. I’ve had a lot of work on, and a short break away (in Italy, where the weather has also become more unpredictable, though not half so unpredictable as ours). Oh well, there’s the long Easter weekend; I’ll get them in then. Fat chance. The bank holiday came and went, with predictably awful weather, and still the potatoes sat in the garage. So the next day I dodged the showers and headed up to the plot, with my egg boxes full of sprouted potatoes, and managed to get two rows safely underground.
It was delightful up there in the sunshine. The damson tree, which must be almost as old as the site, is in full blossom. Despite its great age, and the odd branch that falls off in high winds, it’s still highly productive, producing more fruit than anyone could ever use; indeed it gave me a bumper crop in the year when everyone else’s failed completely, due to the fact that it flowers slightly later than all the others. There were trees in blossom all over the site and the biggest bumble bee I’ve ever seen was buzzing round the compost, while the robin lurked nearby hoping I would turn up some worms for him.
It’s interesting to have a look round and see what stage everyone else is at. My neighbour, who has the perfect excuse of a young baby, has nevertheless decided to shame me with his six neat rows of potatoes topped by perfectly symmetrical heaps of soil. Another neighbour has adorned his plot with four red flags. He wasn’t there, so I couldn’t ask him if they were intended to keep the pigeons off. If so he is doomed to disappointment, as I know from bitter experience that the only thing that keeps pigeons off the tender leaves and shoots they love is an impenetrable barrier of wire or plastic netting. Anyway the flags looked great, flapping in the breeze.
So why did I plant only two rows of potatoes when I have at least three times that many still to go in? Because the clouds came over and the rain started lashing down and so I made a dash for home, with an armful of rhubarb to make a rhubarb and orange cake. The potatoes will have to wait for another gap in the clouds.
Liz Potter
Hay Green Allotment Association
