Autumn allotment

Down the allotment with a bag and a spade for the last not slug munched spuds and an armful of corn that escaped the trampling snuffling humbug of Brock's paws. Still traffic murmured autumn air that lulls you into winding down for the season and yet there is much to be done amongst the dahlias and the compost heap. In the corner of the site, a man all grey trousered and narly jumpered prods a leaf pile with a fork like he expects a viper to slither out and a cough of a mutter escapes. 

Mould-green bog stenching leaf litter slides off the side. 'ya bugger'

Out comes the toffees from rat's nest stuffed pockets and on goes the shed kettle.

Greenhouse hiding plot holders tend to unripe tomatoes or cascading grapes on autumn coloured turning vines, twisting and tendrilling suspiciously across to the box of Growmore and the chicken manure. Next year it's world domination.

A snip and a gather, green tomatoes will ripen in a brown bag and perhaps taste nice fried or in a chutney. And back outside in a huge clump, some kale, the bitter green leviathan of the plot, with sprawling tentacles to last the winter through. Some to take home for Dad's chickenosauruses, ferocious things that peck your wellied feet and pluck each others feathers. 

Standing, summing up, pondering. Bonfire heaps and forgotten watering cans. The last chance to harvest any squashes before the frost hits them. A time for making plans for the next gardening year.....there is always next year. New veggies to grow or fruit trees to buy and seed catalogues to order for afternoons by the fire dreaming of next year's cutting garden and bountiful beans of all varieties, striped and spotted pods, popping into soups for months and months.

Before the late autumn set in, the plot was swarming with scarecrows, the young and the old crafting sock-faced granny dressed hat wearing guardians that can not even frighten a sparrow let alone a corvid. I have seen crows mocking with a chucking caw as they sit aloft an old straw hatted wurzel 'Come see, come see oh raven and rook, a mermaid to keep us away and over there, caw-caw, a stuffed French man. And my doesn't this sweetcorn taste good'.

Whilst I wandered, amused and inspired, amongst the rows of brown sugar dipped dahlias and the burnt out sunflower heads, I heard a cheery 'hello' to my Dad. Another plot holder has arrived, on her bicycle, helmet off and camera quickly out from her rucksack. Here to photograph the haunting abundance yet decay of late autumn, just as I am. Completely normal to me, bemusing to my Dad who carries on digging for spuds and then shuffling along the path for some apples whilst propping netting back up and flapping at a crow.

A few more snaps by the patch of gone midnight-pumpkins that sprawl in drunken disorder, mildew setting in on bristly leaves, powdered end of year dust. No glass slippers just the season algae tainted glasshouses, ready for cleaning for spring. And their occupants, still pottering away, hiding out with mugs of tea and having a break from compost snake charming.

And now home down the grassy path, waving goodbye, bags full of those earthy potatoes for mashing with salted butter, a few late borlotti beans, add some herbs, maybe roast some pumpkin and a glug of gravy. Place some vegetable into the store shed to last over the cold months when there is little to harvest aside from winter greens and especially that perfect Christmas Brussels sprout.

Leaf kicking

I'd been thinking about leaf kicking days and crisp air. I'd been thinking about how much my son loves crunching through those leaves with wellies and scooping armfuls up. So, that's what we did.

An autumn carpet, warm clothes and a dry day with all but that slight mist that seems to linger all day. Across the field of cows and through the woodland and along the pathways. Running and cheering and the nearby cows did not mind,  just carried on grazing and looking every so often from under the canopy of trees.

The wellies were making a debut, Star Wars ones for that is all that they had in his size but they look smart and kept little feet dry as they scudded and scampered in the amber heap of leaves. A time to do so for you can blink at this time of year and suddenly it is winter and sludge and bare trees. Today though, cold air biting, mushrooms springing up from logs and mellow happiness.

Pumpkin traditions

 Autumn, a time to show off the bountiful harvest and admire and enjoy what you've put all your hard work into growing over the year. I love fruit and vegetables, not only to eat but as decorative items and little autumnal vignettes. So here in the bothy of Attingham walled garden was a tumble of pumpkins and squashes on a table, then some illuminating windows with fat gourdness and orange globular delight. 

Fingers twitching I edged closer, a pumpkin lovers dream and what do I see but writing on them. What is this sorcery on a crisp autumn day? And so I discovered pumpkin scarring where in the summer (August perhaps)  you etch your words or pictures onto the growing pumpkin that is still on the vine.

To heal the wound, the pumpkin scars and so shows your words or design. Absolutely trying this next year on my allotment plot pumpkins. 

From looking around on Pinterest the engraved pumpkins seem to be a Thanksgiving tradition and farms take your engraving orders in the summer - how cute is that. I'm already researching which varieties I'm going to grow, Musquee de Provence is top of my list as they look like Cinderella pumpkins, an heirloom variety. Also, 'Rouge Vif d'Etampes' which are stunningly beautiful and a deep orange colour. 

Joining in with How Does Your Garden Grow? at Mammasaurus.

Squeezing the Season

I like to squeeze every drop of each season out of it's three month window as much as possible. Spring has to be excessively springy in my house, Summer like deckchairs on Brighton pier, winter like Narnia and Autumn is no exception.
I look for events or places to go that celebrate the season and on our local countryside travels I just have to stop for an Autumn bunch of flowers.  Roadside sellers and honesty boxes make my heart sing! I've bought flowers (of course), eggs, new potatoes, hanging baskets, bunches of holly and carved wooden mushrooms to name a few after a quick 'Stop the car!' It was dahlias this week and they are the most gorgeous bunch of flowers - until the next ones :)

Another perfect place to squeeze the season is the farm shop. In summer we came here picking strawberries, raspberries and gooseberries. A fun place with tractors for Little Bird and wonderful seasonal displays - now it's pumpkins and squashes which I fear I may be boring you all with. Sorry, I'm  just still squeezing drops of autumn with every crunchy russet leaf, conker and Jack O'Lantern. One thing that did surprise me was all the pumpkins left rotting, very sad indeed! Perhaps they aren't as popular as I thought as an Autumn culinary treat. Are we still fairly new to it's versatility in the UK? I suppose so, my parents don't really cook them. My dad has grown then this year but are scratching their heads for recipes and mum seems daunted by them. Do you cook with them, just wondering?

Happy Home Witch

The pumpkin fairies told me that they'd quite like a party this year to celebrate the spooky season. Of course I obliged and they set about with their mischief and lantern making.

I left them to it as they carved and cut and glued causing spices and pumpkin juice to be spilt everywhere as they weaved their magic from one room to the next. I didn't want so many decorations but who am I to argue with precocious pumpkin fairies. 

Invitations were sent to the local spooks with the promise of food and a bit of a Monster Mash.

Quickly, I got out my broom to give the house a good clean before the skeletons came round - they don't like cobwebs on their bones! Just my pointed hat to find now.....

The evening arrives, lights are flickering and there's stardust in the air. The pumpkin fairies weave their magic dance welcoming all spooks over the threshold.

A welcome to you too, my mortal friends.............

Mummy and Warlock began the dancing, throwing shapes to the music of the vampire disco. 

At one point Mummy had her bandages trodden on and was most angry with the Warlock - he really should control his clumsy left foot. Grrrrr!

Pumpkin juice flowed, providing much merriment to our grisly gang. The ghosts being so transparent should learn to take it easy on the juice as a few were quite ill and passed out causing the pumpkin fairies a real headache to sort out.

Cake, biscuits, crisps and candy were devoured. Not a crumb was left.

There were gatecrashers trying to get into the party, creeps skulking outside, enticed over by the magic sparkles flowing from the doors and windows. They were drawn over from far and wide but this was a small party and they were quickly sent on their way - sometimes with a scuffle or two from the magic of the pumpkin Jack O'Lantern door guardians.....

Jack O'Lantern power is strong and they soon sorted any menacing spook pests from causing a disturbance. Always wave hello to these protectors sat outside weathering the storm on Halloween night. Look carefully, they might wink back.

It was time for the annual story telling competition - who would tell the scariest? Witch, goblin, gnome or bat? Last year the skeleton won with the story of the Not So Funny Bones but this year we had a new winner.

Big Frank won with his gruesome narration of the Werewolf''s Mistaken Identity ( based on a true story) I actually thought it was amusing but not to the Werewolf who had his coat clipped and treated to a shampoo and set and was thus taken home, called Fifi Trixabelle and given a bone, errrrr I mean a tin of Hills Science Diet. Sorry skeleton.

I was urged and urged by all my kooky guests to find my book of spells - an old tome handed down to me by my great grandmother. I'm a bit rusty so who knew what might happen. I collected the ingredients - hair of a dog, slime of a frog, earwig's tail and a pinch of ground up gourd seed. To complete the party I thought I'd cast a spell to create the most wondrous creature to entertain us all. Pow, kazza, wizzam wazzam woohoo woo......

It was all too much for some to bear and shock resonated across the smaller members of the party clan.

In a flurry of flowers and into my arms appeared the most beautiful golden haired child. 

The whole of the group cooed and cuddled this mischievous imp, chasing him around for the rest of the evening, picking up his toys and dancing him around to ghoulish rhymes and songs.

With a jingle jangle of keys, our party pooper was skeleton, still upset by the thought of being offered to the werewolf to chew on, he had decided that it was time for the spooks to all go home to their graves/coffins/belfry/covens......

Tired out, the party goers were happy to leave, especially since there was so much mess and they didn't want to get roped into tidying up - nothing new there. Chief pumpkin bid them all goodnight and they went on their wicked way home. Not all made it as I found one of the gourds asleep in the hedge but I just left him there and covered him with an eiderdown of Old Man's Beard as he was happily snoring.

I bid you all goodnight and Happy Hauntings to one and all.

{Please see all the other party goers at A Fanciful Twist who is the Queen of Halloween}