This is what remains of Clarence Park's "sensory garden", a pathetic but nonetheless lovely little space that has featured several times previously on this blog. It contained these wonderfully abundant supplies of sage and mint:
...which I had always assumed to be public property, and have never had demonstrated to me otherwise. Now I never will. This is what remains of the sage bush:
No evidence remains of the mint at all. Nor the flowering chives, and the army of bees they used to feed. The whole space has been dug up, and work has begun on inserting more of the vulgar, metalic exercise devices that already permeate the pathways into the once verdant oasis of herbs and calm:
Those rotten red discs are supposed to be good for your elbows or something. I am not impressed. I preferred the free herbs. You can exercise in your front room, but you can't grow a supply of sage that magnificent just anywhere.
The changes haven't been announced or publicised anywhere that I can find; they just happened. I am against this.
@BuryCouncil Hey, why did the sensory garden in Clarence Park get dug up? I really liked it.
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Last summer I discovered the wonders of growing microgreens - edible shoots of plants that can be grown quickly and compactly indoors. It's actually possible to do this all year round, with the right equipment and discipline, neither of which are things I have in abundance. For a continuous supply, you need things like grow lights, and more shelves than I really have space for. Still, it's fun to see how much you can grow in how little space, and how much nutrition you can actually get out of such a project.
A key component, obviously, is light. Though it can help to start off your seedlings in the dark, beneath a weight for some stimulating pressure, once they've started sprouting, light is what you need. Preferably actual sunlight. So this year so far, England hasn't really provided the ideal conditions for the minimally-equipped microgreen gardener. I've some pictures that I could use to prove that to you, but to be honest I'd rather not. Just take my word for it.
Anyway, the weather is turning, temperatures are rising, the clocks have sprung and so at last, the time is right. I started my first few trays at the beginning of this week.
Here's something notable. On the left: one 250g box of "quick soak" dried peas - 50p. On the right: one bag of tesco marrowfat dried peas, 500g - £1.80. I soaked 250g of each overnight, sowed one tray of each the following morning and identical conditions, and three days later:
The first picture shows the Batchelor's cheapo peas; the second, the posher Tesco ones. Batchelor's peas boxed come with a "soaking tablet" made of sodium carbonate, sodium bicarbonate and disodium diphosphate. Salt and shit, in other words. Though I didn't soak the tablet with the peas, attempting to grow shoots from them has been far less fruitful than growing the others, which come un-corrupted by salt and shit. Even just the presence of the tablet in the box was enough to thrwart my intentions. This is a shame because Batchelor's peas are not only cheaper, but come without any plastic packaging. Anyway, we struggle on.
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I declared it several times already, which was silly of me; but I think now I can finally say with confidence: spring is here.
Pollinators
"Bed one" on the allotment is now more or less full, in a higgeldy-piggeldy sort of way. Here it is in diagram form:
Here's a key to what's what.
1. Garlic - planted back in the autumn. 2. Onions - sets planted a few weeks ago. 3. Spinach - some seedlings planted out that I started back in January, plus more seeds sown today either side. 4. Lemon thyme - This I bought from the garden centre and had it in the greenhouse - unfortunately it's not looking that healthy, so I'm hoping planting it out will revitalise it. Lemon thyme (named for its citrus-y smell) is supposed to be good for deterring cats. Likewise: 5. Thyme - This is is a cutting Sarah gave me that's also not show much signs of life yet, but we live in hope. 6. Red cabbage - Four seedlings under a cage to protect them from birds, been growing since late January. Not sure if these will make it or not, but really hoping so. 7. Borage - Seeds planted in February (no signs yet) and March (just yesterday in fact). 8. Sage - Ahhh, sage. My favourite herb. Tasty and invincible. 9. Chives - These are popping up all over the plot. Looking sturdy and tall already. 10. Rosemary - A cutting from a bush I've rooted indoors over the winter. 11. Lemon balm - Seeds sown this week. 12. Coleus canina - "scaredy cat" plant - Cats have been an issue, so I read up a little on deterring them from digging and shitting where they ain't supposed to. This is apparently the plant for that. I'll be planting it exactly where that plastic bottle is, very soon. 13. Onion - One solitary seedling survived the greenhouse disaster. I awarded it with a patch of its own 14. Onions - I think, or possibly garlic. Looking forward to finding out. 15. Dill - Seeds sown back end of February, just shown themselves this week. Here's a close up:
Here's a close up of the super chives - also featuring rosemary, with an attempted photobomb by the sage:
Just outside of the bed's borders, lavender - it's been there since September and has stoically shrugged off the winter - another plant that I have high hopes for. Bees. BEES!
Here's a nice shot of an attractive blue flower whose name I forget, speaking of bees; I've seen various buzzy characters take an interest in this one. I planted these bulbs last year, and I'm very glad I did.
There's not a lot to see over in bed 2 yet but here's a few snaps.
Peas, which I thought perhaps I'd sown a little too early, before the snow, are starting work above ground. I've sown some more seeds in the same patch for good measure. The broad beans are doing alright too, but I've no recent pictures of them. They've been minding their own business, don't worry about them. Yesterday I planted some squash seeds bang in the middle of bed 2:
As I said, not much to see. Yet. Just at the top left there, that's where I've put my potatoes, as I posted about here.
Then of course, there's the shed. Oh, sheddy sheddy shed. Sheddy McShedface. All I've really done so far is clear the space for you.
The base measures 92.5 x 66 inches, and close up it looks like this:
Those "slats" holding the planks together are 92.5 x 1 x 1.5 inches and need replacing with something not rotten. I'd like to find out what sort of wood would be suitable for that, but don't really know how. This project is going to take some time. Anyway, enough of that for now. SPRING IS HERE. That's what matters. Get gardening, now.
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It's not freezing cold outside today. This is something of a first for the year, and it means I can actually open the windows in my flat even when I'm not cooking. This makes me happy. The overlooked, tiniest mundanities of everyday life: this is where happiness is found. So...don't overlook them. Open a window.
Just inside my open kitchen window, you'll find a little herb garden I've been carefully cultivating for about a year now. I'd like to take you on a little tour of it. This might make you happy, too.
Here it is from above:
From top left, we have: rosemary and dill. Just below the rosemary, a little scattering of French marigolds - not really herbs, I know, but a must for deterring pests, as every gardener will tell you, so I threw some in. Bottom left, not see easy to see in this picture, a cutting of thyme from my dad's garden. I'm not so sure how well this is doing, but we'll take a closer look in a moment. To the right of that, a sage cutting from the park, and just visible to their right, some more sage, sprouting from seeds. And scattered in the centre, also grown from seed: chives. Let's dive in closer.
Here's the sage seedlings:
The rosemary was a cutting from a huge plant on the allotment, which I'm very pleased to see establish itself and even begin to flower:
That means more seeds, I would assume. I've never had much success keeping rosemary grown from seed alive. Maybe these seeds will be different. Second generation. Established.
Look at this:
That's the first signs of thyme, that is. If the cutting doesn't work out, they're my backup. Here's the cutting:
I'm not sure it's going to make it. I hope it appreciates the fresh air it's getting today through the open window as much as I do. Here's the new sage, with some chives in the background:
Oh, and I almost forgot - lemon balm. Seeds sown, but no sign yet:
Not much of a picture then really, is it? Sorry. Here's some dill to make up for it:
Dill can be sown all year round, and some of this sprouted at the end of January. I've been adding a few more seeds each month so I can enjoy a year-round supply.
Some of the chives came from shop-bought seeds; others from flowers I found in the park. I've got something to tell you about the park, but that can wait for another post. For now, just open a window, breathe in, breathe out; have joy.
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This week has been very educational. With the help of a good friend, I almost immediately became a master baker. Not hours after Sarah had left I took it upon myself to make a loaf of bread entirely on my own and, needless to say, I was victorious. It looked like this:
and also like this:
And it tasted like that, too. Here's the recipe I used.
4 cups of Allison's strong white bread flour
1 cup of Allison's very strong wholemeal bread flour
1 tsp of salt
1 tbsp of oil
1/2 tbsp of sugar
2 cups of warm water
1 handful of mixed seeds (pumpkin, sesame, flax, that sort of thing)
3 tspb of Alliosn's "easy bake" yeast
For the warm water, I used leftover water from boiling potatoes, something I've seen suggested in a few other bread recipes, and which I can recommend. Great way of using otherwise "waste" water. You can also use it to water your plants, once it's cooled.
I let the dough rise twice - first time after kneading for ten minutes I left it for an hour; second time I left it for about 20 minutes. Baked in the oven at 180 degrees (centigrade) for about 30 minutes. Bang bang.
On Saturday night, I started to run out of flour. This wasn't so bad though, because I began to appreciate just how cheap flour is, how it comes in paper bags (no plastic = superior) and how I should just get myself several massive bags of bread-appropriate flour. With what was left that evening, I made another loaf, following more or less the same recipe as above, and flavouring this one with dried basil and fresh rosemary, thereby making it Italian.
Bread: there's nothing it can't do. When it comes to cheap, delicious, filling and aesthetically satisfying (and, of course, vegan) food, it can't be beat. Time to get myself some more equipment and explore the bread universe more deeply. I'm hooked.
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It's a pleasure and a privilege to live close enough to quiet, outdoor spaces to be able to wander into them whenever the urge strikes you. The woodland area around and past Clarence Park just out of the centre of Bury is from one perspective, though nothing much to speak of and from another, a haven of calm that contains all the wandering soul could ever ask for. There is nothing special about this particular woodland, indeed; all woods have this quality. They are normal, but alien. Natural, but unknowable. Nothing about them seems...human. This is what makes them so inviting.
Fallen trees, covered in moss, evoke dancers frozen in position by a nefarious and forgetful wizard.
You're never far from the road when you wander through this space - the low and constant hiss of traffic is always just audible enough. The so-called "real" world is just over there, and you can merge back in at any moment. For now, however, you move at a different pace. You appreciate the colour and the texture of the moss.
You look up.
You look down.
A hollowed out tree stump has fashioned itself into what I decide is a plant pot. I take four nasturtium seeds from my pocket and immerse them in the mud, making a mental note to check back here in a few weeks to see if anything has sprouted. The soil is very damp, perhaps too damp, but presumably nutritious. Give and take.
I found a couple of wild woodland plants I know nothing about, and took a couple of samples. This, tiny little damp and semi-moss-like plant...
...and this, which I strongly suspect might be edible:
I'm hoping the good hive minds over at /r/whatisthisplant can help me out with these. They're probably not interesting or rare, but so what? They are to me. Give and take, give and take.
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