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.

Autumn walled garden at Attingham Park

 Where to start with how I feel when I find a walled garden. The promise of horticultural secrets behind the brickwork, the feeling of history, the sense of escape and gaining some enlightenment. They are always clever and meticulous in their design and I find myself noting down ideas in my mind as I walk around - ooh I love that plant label or ooh look at that heirloom beetroot. Old veg varieties with great names like cosmic purple and golden ball. I imagine men with flat caps pushing their barrow around, whistling and off to turn the heated compost.

Here at Attingham Park, Shropshire there's been an exhibition around Digging for Victory, an insight into food production and the staff here during the First World War. The pumpkin scarring was a homage to the wartime phrases - the seeds of victory are the fruits of peace....
Also, how the women took up gardening roles during the war and today all the gardeners here are women.
 Voluptuous quince and her never tried but sounds wonderful offering of jelly.  Could almost be Mr McGregor on the path. Tomato wigwams, must try this neat and ordered approach.  The dishes on the endives are to blanch them, as are the bound-up chicory. This is to produce a milder flavour.  The flower beds still have plenty going on for November and a chalk sign tells us that these are used in the grand house and the veg are taken to the tea room. Just beautifully planted and if only I could keep my allotment as neat, especially at this time of year. It fills me with inspiration and a renewed interest in next year being the perfect growing season but also shows just how much work a garden and plot is, so I shouldn't be too hard on myself. The powerhouse of the walled garden supplying a huge estate can surely be replicated a little by me: mini plot to semi-detached? Wonder what they do with these poster once the exhibition has finished - oh would I love that one on the left for the garden wall.

A great aunt of mine was in the Women's Land Army and the exhibition has prompted me to find out more. There are The Landswoman magazines online to look through, very excited about finding them and can't wait to have a proper look through for more of an insight.

I'm pretty sure that I would have been a land girl with my spade and barrow, singing a tune as I walked to the compost heap....

For more garden tales go to How Does Your Garden Grow @ Mammasaurus, 

Early spring garden

The April garden was the start of my gardening attempts ramping up again. Plans made, seeds bought and renewed enthusiasm. The Amelanchier lamarckii (snowy mespilus) came into blossom in the second week looking gorgeous with white against bronze leaves, it's a lovely tree for a small garden and the birds like the late summer berries too.On the patio area is the mini greenhouse and the area where I do all my potting up and seed planting. In the summer  months the bench will become my favourite place for a cup of tea but for now it is some extra space for seed trays and pots. I've planted mostly everything now - well first succession anyway, broad beans, French climbing beans, pumpkins, squashes, courgettes and sunflowers. There are some onion sets there too and lavender plugs from a the 72 plugs I ordered of cottage garden plants. The rest are in my kitchen as the mini greenhouse seems to attract every slug and snail in the neighbourhood and I want all my plants to grow so the garden is filled with delphiniums, carnations and coreopsis. 
 I start moving plants around and creating new tubs of primroses. herbs and other plants I find lurking. I've been dividing perennials such as Lady's Mantle and moving strawberries. The strawberries from the allotment are to be dug up and moved into pots in the garden instead so I can keep a closer eye on them, at the allotment they simply get eaten by birds, slugs etc. A primula I moved into the potager style bed I'm creating. The terrier who wants to help but does little aside from trampling seedlings and plants or rolling in dead worms or slugs.
I have lots of plants reappear which is great and saves money so hopefully tubs should fill up nicely for a pretty look on the patio. I'll be buying plants throughout the season, adding to the collection but really I don't want to spend a lot at all. I usually pick extra plants up at Aldi as they are reasonably priced and it's nice to buy new plants on our travels, honesty stalls, farmer's markets and garden nurseries.  Of course Little Bird loves the garden too, he likes to sit on our rocking bench further down the garden by the honeysuckle, often standing on there to peep over into next door. We bought him a new water table to replace the one that broke, lots of scoops and pouring going on. Really need to tidy out his yellow play shed and find old favouites in there such as the red wagon and market stall. No doubt there will be plenty of spiders in there and mildew to wipe away. LB likes to enthusiastically water all my plants :)  April was a flurry of activity and May will be the same, more seeds to sow to replace any lost to slugs and plenty of potting up of my cottage garden plugs - some lost to damping off which is really annoying. The tiny bit of lawn needs re-turfing and the pathway relaying and I can't wait to compare to see how much everything has grown. This is my favourite view over the rooftops and mine and my neighbour's garden. Some gorgeous sunsets over the last few weeks and it's a great spot for cloud spotting. 

December garden walk

 A walled garden in December, a fine sight for eyes that have seen far too many mince pies and watched too much uninspiring television. Bare bones of a garden but with several colourful surprises like roses still in bloom and hips on yellowing foliage. 

Winter vegetables - kale, cabbage, Brussel sprouts, triumphant in their plot - the three kings of the Christmas dinner plate. 
 To see the structure of a garden in wintertime is unthreatening; I feel like despite the grandeur of gravelled paths through arches and metal gazebos, I have more a chance now of making my own efforts in the back garden catch up by spring into summer. Yes my garden is so much smaller and will never have the espaliered fruit trees and vegetable plots in neat rows but right now we are on more even terms and I've a window of opportunity to make my own space a mini paradise that will evoke the same feelings of a horticultural haven such as this. The challenge to myself has been set and there's plenty of time to do so.