Mmmm, our strawberry crop is coming…. Cambridge Early, Florence and Honeye, although I’ve not figured out which is the earliest yet, since they all seem to be coming into fruit. 

There’s me!  I was allocated weeding last night while Deputy Gardener propped and shot, and Holly (pooch) scampered around with bits of plastic bottle (huh, what else has she been eating?!).  The fruit cage isn’t covered yet – first job on saturday, to save our strawberries… and I am fretting about pea moth, too… gah, monsters.

The plot does have a healthy frog population which, I have come to realise, is to account for the extra-super-healthy salad beds (yum, yum, yum) and which we are delighted about.  We eat soooo much salad all year that this is a great saving, and we’ve never EVER managed to grow salad in the garden.  The solution is, obviously, to get frogs and sow saladini by the handful. 

Ooh, here’s another gratuitous strawberry shot.  Don’t look at that weed, will you.  I missed a few.

Saladini is such a great crop.  We’re growing the Oriental (the Original version developed by Joy Larkcom, cut-and-come-again expert) and have just sown another salad mixture from T&M to see how it compares.  I have a couple more packets of Italian and oriental mixtures, although this saladini will take some beating, you know.  It’s not too peppery but there’s bite to let you know you’re not eating iceberg.  The chard (yellow stemmed) adds a nice soft note to the salad.  This saladini, sown early April, is running to seed now, so we’ll have to hurry and eat it all up, so we can sow a couple of new lines. 

You can also see Rocky, our faceless scarecrow, in this picture.  And quite a lot of weediness.

We finally got a replacement camera cable, so I’ll be uploading photographs at last.  Here (above) is a view of the plot in february, and below is the view yesterday.  Please try not to look at the weeds.  Instead look only at the vegetable gorgeousness.

 After a weekend’s worth of hard work from our faithful volunteers, this is what the plot looks like!  You can see the frame for the fruit cage there on the right, followed by an 8×6′ space for a greenhouse, and some beds without boundaries further down.  To put it in perspective, I guess we have now structured perhaps half or two-thirds of the plot.  The bottom part, where the ground ends in a pointy triangle, is reserved for cutting flowers – no raised beds there, just some cute picket fencing (because I am a girl).   Across the back (running horizontally below the photographer’s feet) is a 40′ bed for beans (broad and runner), and behind that is a raised bank, into which I will be planting apple and plum trees.   And in the bottom left of the picture you can see the onion and garlic bed (covered with netting), from which my little darlings have started to sprout!  God bless their little green legs. 

Here is a dahlia picture, just to brighten things up.  I do grow other things, honest!

I have been trying to set up the webcam on this computer.  Wouldn’t it be just brilliant to set it up at the plot and film our progress?  I would have to speed it up for web viewing purposes, obviously.  But it all depends on overcoming my in-built technophobia.  I could be a while…

Charlie in front of the dahlias (Dahlia ‘Fascination’ planted with crimson snapdragons)

Because the allotment is so big, and because I will insist on cutting flowers from the garden, I have been allowed to reserve part of our plot for a cutting patch.

As a big fan of Sarah Raven’s books and arrangements, I’ve wanted my own florist patch for ages. There’s just no space in our garden for blocks of cut-and-come-agains.

the dilemma
One of the things I dislike about annuals – okay, the only thing I dislike – is the dead stage. You’re supposed to leave them to dry and brown and fester in order to collect the seeds in a proper state, which gives the garden some big old brown patches just when the sun is finally shining (ie, now). I have been in the garden today removing enormous sweet-pea wigwams and digging out wizened snapdragons, because I just can’t put up with their miserable dry faces any more.

the solution
Using the allotment for these plants will resolve this problem, since I won’t have to look out of my study window at the dead stuff, and I can cut to my heart’s content, filling (I hope) the house with flowers.

a place of magic
I am dreaming big. My cutting patch should, I think, be a place to sit and rest – as well as being enormously productive for 8 months of the year. I have instructed the deputy gardener to make me a bench and arbour from hazel wood (I know, I know, I am “SUCH a prima donna!”) so that I can sit beneath the perennial sweetpeas, after a morning’s cutting, and read books about flowers. (I have also suggested a wine pit, but this idea doesn’t seem to be floating.)

Anyway, deputy gardener is concerned by my flower dreams and keeps reminding me that the allotment is mainly for food. “Yes, yes,” I waft him away and carry on drawing tiny cosmos symbols. The brilliant thing is that I can sow lots of hardy annuals (the cut-and-come-again types) in September – giving them a nice warm start before winter freezes their growth – which, in other words, means that I am planning to devote my initial digging to the cutting patch, leaving deputy gardener digging a lonely furrow through his raised beds.

shopping list
My cutting wish-list is very long indeed – I want everything from echinacea to heleniums, lilies, gladioli, and – well, it goes on and on.  I daresay I will only sow half of the seeds I order, half of which will be neglected after the exciting germination stages.  But here are some of my must-haves:

Dahlias. I am in love with dahlias this year, and I don’t think this love will dwindle any time soon. I understand that dahlias have been untrendy for quite some time, but they seem to be making a come-back.  As far as I’m concerned, they are wonderful for so many reasons. They are such glamorous, showy plants, producing huge flowers in rich and juicy colours. They come in different heights and with different coloured foliage. Best of all, they love to be cut and will carry on flowering for months on end. After creating a dedicated dahlia bed in the garden this year, I am planning to weave them through other borders to add late interest where the midsummer plants have given up. At the allotment I will be growing those which survive in the vase (as per Sarah Raven’s instructions), and searing the ends in boiling water to boost them a little more.

Cosmos. This floaty, generous, daisy-like annual is easy to grow from seed. It goes in the ground in late spring and flourishes with enough space, turning into a veritable bush. It actually likes to be snipped.

Sweetpea “Winston Churchill”

Sweetpeas. Winston Churchill and Matucana are my favourites from this year – the former a beguiling ruby-crimson (nothing like the podgy man himself) and the latter very heavily scented. I can smell a jug of these as soon as I walk into the room.

Nigella. Our paltry plugs from Suttons have done well since going into the borders, but I hope bulk sowing will produce a field of those pretty ballerina flower-heads.  (NB: am boycotting Suttons since rude customer service woman put me off for life)

Snapdragons. In every colour and height – particularly the velvet red type that we grew this year for the borders. Combine with orange and deep purple.

Gypsophilia. Oh but this is slow! I am growing this perennial from seed, since — ooh, spring — and it’s about an inch tall. I do wonder whether it will be fully-grown by next summer, but here’s hoping – for the perfect, floaty background to my solid blooms.

Bulbs: For early spring cheer.  Anemone coronaria (the taller type), Longiflorum Lilies, Fritillaria, and an array of Lily-flowered Tulips (even if they last about ten seconds in water).

Not from the allotment, but these are our first beans – EVER!   They’re poetically named Mrs Fearne’s Purple Flowering Beans, and they come from the Heritage Seed Library, which conserves varieties of vegetable from the history books.  We’ve grown them in a large terracotta pot on the patio – they were planted in April but are positively soaring upwards at the moment.  I am watching the little babes carefully so I can pick and steam them the very second they’re ready. 

The plants (two out of three germinated) are obviously late bloomers, so I’m hoping for a few months of cropping, and will try to take a note of the weight of beans we pick.  These and the sweetpeas have done exceptionally well for us in the garden, so they will be emigrating to the plot next year – where we can grow more and worry less about ugly brown seedpods.  Our cottage garden is too small to be swamped with beans!