I’m Gonna Get That Wabbit!

     Now the bloody netting’s been munched through!

                       

La Cage Aux Folles

OK, free day, good weather. Time to finally get the netting on the “fruit cage” sorted. Is going to be fab!

I will need:

More netting than you’ve ever seen before. Check.

Hammer and nails. Check.

Step ladder. Check.

OK, am sorted and, remember, invincible. Check.

First task – spread 600 metres of netting over field to try to cut it into five equal lengths. Time-consuming but not too annoying and things are looking good. Bundle up first 20-metre (ish) strip of netting, remove bits of dried sheep shit caught in it and climb step ladder to drape it over the middle strut. Climb back down ladder to unhook numerous areas where netting has become caught on bamboo canes. Climb back up ladder. Realise I don’t know if the netting is hanging evenly either side of the wood. Gather up netting and climb back down ladder.

Spread netting out again and do lots of seven-league-boot-”this must be about a metre”-stylee pacing to try to estimate the centre of each strip. Tie string at centre points. Gather up first strip again and climb up ladder no-handed. Jump off ladder sideways as one leg of step ladder sinks into the compost. Land on bum. Resuscitate sat-on plant and reposition ladder. Jiggle up and down on the first rung to make sure it’s secure and climb up again. Position netting roughly in place. Climb back down ladder to unhook netting from rough edges of the cheap wood which was all I could afford for the cage frame. Remember, I am invincible – hot, sweaty and more than a tad pissed off, but invincible.

Climb up ladder and bang in nails sort of anywhere as don’t really care any more. Balance hammer on top of ladder and climb down to admire work. Hmm – not bad. Move ladder to next position. Sit for five mins in baking sun nursing gash on head where hammer fell off ladder and embedded itself in scalp. Check mobile has reception in case am struck by combination of sun stroke and concussion alone in remote field.  (“Hello, which service do you require?” “Grrgh-kkccuuuuck-aargh-gh-gh-g…” Thank God I had my mobile on me.)

Bundle up next strip and climb up ladder to position it. Bang in first nail. Drop hammer. Climb down ladder. Bend down to pick up hammer. Retrieve eyeball from top of bamboo cane. Climb back up ladder. Drop only nail left in my pocket. Climb down ladder. Climb up ladder. Climb down ladder. Climb up. Climb down. Up. Down. Up. Down…

Repeat ad darkness. Sulk.

OK, so I’ll be invincible tomorrow.

Ooh, Thank God For That

As you may have noticed, I’ve changed the colours and layout of the site. That green was just too bright on any other computer than mine, it seems, so apologies to those of you who tolerated it and welcome to those of you who have got through your migraines and decided to give it another go.

This “theme” (the preset layouts you can choose from) is a bit dull. I was aiming for tasteful - although sometimes I suspect the two words are pretty much interchangeable. Anyway, I haven’t got the time or energy at the moment to learn the html and do it all myself. That’s been added to the list of things to do when I retire (below “Try the cowboy-style riding again” but above “Do some ironing”).*

Anyway, it’s Bank Holiday Monday (notice how I resist the urge to shout, “Pah! Holiday for SOME!”) and naturally it’s bucketing down. But, strangely, I feel quite sorted and am allowing myself an afternoon off from the field/allotment/shed. See how quickly things start to slide? The framework of the fruit cage is up (It’s huge! The neighbours are looking forward to a barn-raising), the netting should be here on Tuesday and then I can finally – finally! – plant the last few things out.

All in time to start thinking about sowing some biennials for next year.

 

*Although obviously, if I do ever give up the day job, I won’t have a pension so will have to see my days out behind the “old, mentally-disturbed, or otherwise unemployable but statutorily required, six items or less (sic) if you want to get out before closing time” till at B&Q.

Me Against The Animal Kingdom

Well, the posts for the netting are going in on Thursday, and the crows will be defeated. Ha!

So of course today I found a place where the pea netting I use for support had been munched through, which means a rabbit has got in.

Make your bloody minds up! It’s like they’re taking turns to thwart me. I’ve never been an animal lover*, so could this be payback time? If so, I’m sorry!! Just leave me alone to grow a few flowers! Is that too much to ask?

On a more positive note, I started the mower today! I am invincible!  (You listening, rabbits?)

By the way, when I look at this site on some computers it’s a hideous bright green, but on mine it’s a much nicer olivey colour. What’s the verdict? Leave me your comments, please. 

*The lovely Hercules excepted – he was a dingo, but soft as anything and with a marked preference for broccoli over babies.

 

 

 

The Birds! The Birds!

This was me at the flower field at the weekend. Well, all right, it would have been had I got there early enough to actually witness the devastation wreaked by those bloody crows! The entire row of Honesty plants, first sown last summer and nurtured ever since, and the only things on the field to have reached the flowering stage, have been completely stripped. No flowers left, no side shoots, not even any leaves – just a long row of stalks sticking up from the ground.

Wise Uncle Gerald (brother of Wise Uncle George) says he has watched crows bouncing on the top of his fruit cage to stretch the netting until it’s saggy enough for them to reach the fruit below. And, of course, we’ve all seen those clips of crows using tools. My local posse have obviously expanded their capabilities to include mobiles. You know how you sometimes hear a bird imitating a mobile phone? That’s no bird call – they’re just getting a text. “Hey, get over here quick! The flowers are ready! You must try the pink - it has a wonderful raspberry aftertaste…”  

So… after much cursing, frustrated foot-stamping and a bit of a weep, I’ve decided I’m going to have to net the whole plot. It’s a big area (the irony of getting a field and then enclosing it has not passed me by) but, with the advice of WUGeorge, I’ve decided on what I think will be the cheapest and easiest way to do it. We’ll see.

In other news: I’ve ditched the idea of buying a petrol mower  (all available funds redirected to the netting project). The Kindly Smallholders, misguidedly as it turned out, lent me one of theirs yesterday. All my fears about not being strong enough to pull the starting handle proved true (Oh, the shame!) but  I hadn’t anticipated getting huge clumps of long grass and, at one point, a wooden stake (I know!) stuck in the blades as well!

Maybe the crows could give me some tool-using tips.

 

 

 

Don’t Panic!

 

It’s May – without any even remotely close competition the best month of the year. Everything’s starting to look gorgeous, each day something new appears and yet those long, sunny, flowery evenings are all still to come. As Monty Don once wrote, “When I die I’m going to May”. Sigh…

So why am I feeling so rubbish? My stomach’s in knots and every ten minutes I’m looking at my calendar of things to do just to confirm to myself that, yes, I am so far behind that there’s no real point going on. (With the flowers, that is – don’t worry, I’m not about to top myself.)

The new seedlings need to be potted on while those I sowed last autumn are on the patio wondering why they’re still in a small plastic pot when they’ve heard talk of a distant land where crumbly, unplanted compost stretches further than the eye can see…

My main priority at the moment though is the grass, at both the field and the allotment, which desperately needs cutting before the dandelions start chucking their seeds hither and thither in that wonder-of-nature way that seemed so miraculous when I learnt about it in school but is now, frankly, a pain in the arse. (And how come the crows, still merrily munching their way through the Honesty, aren’t remotely interested in the dandelion flowers?) Being a weedy townie I, natch, only have a plastic, electric Flymo-jobbie. I need a petrol mower, powerful enough to tackle the rough ground but lightweight enough for me to lift in and out of the van.  And then, of course, there’s starting it – what if I’m too weedy to pull the starting string thingy hard enough?

These are the things that keep me awake at night! (Yes, really.) Still, as Uncle George - maybe not as eloquent as Monty, but just as wise - says, everything catches up in May.

Let’s hope that includes me. 

 

 

 

Everything On A Grand Scale

Well, OK, so far the flowers aren’t on a grand scale, but let’s not dwell on that. Everything else, though, is certainly bigger than I’m used to and so poxy little plastic labels are out and bloody great wooden stakes for labelling are in!

I’ve painted the names of the flowers on these 4ft stakes and am gonna bang them in at the end of each row. And here’s the clever bit – I will need a stake to tie up the Onopordium plant I am going to put at the end of each row as a windbreak, so they will be dual purpose! Which means any accusations of wasting time painting wood in nice girly colours to make it look pretty will be TOTALLY UNJUSTIFIED! Right?

The First Flowers!

The plants at the allotment are beginning to flower! This is cerinthe, a hardy annual with gorgeous grey-blue leaves, which are irresistibly thick and squidgy. I put the young plants out in the autumn but quite a few of them didn’t really grow. Mind you, I have more plants coming on, sown in the propagator a few weeks ago, so hopefully they will take over as the autumn-sown plants exhaust themselves.

 

The Lunaria (honesty) is also starting to bloom. This is ‘Munstead Purple’,  one of the biennials I sowed last summer, and I also have ‘Alba’ (white – natch). It’s supposed to be much taller and I think if it had been in the ground all winter instead of becoming pot-bound and slug-munched at the bottom of the garden, it might well have been 3 feet tall by now.  Still, it should get there. I hadn’t dug enough of the allotment to put them out until recently, but next year I’ll get them in the ground early, maybe keeping some back in pots to flower later. Successful successional planting is said to be one of the hardest things about gardening, but with me it sort of happens just by being a bit rubbish!

The biennials have really got me thinking about a polytunnel, as the few pots I kept in the shed all winter are in a beautiful condition, whereas the ones outside look really ratty. It’s amazing the difference just a little bit of protection makes. Also, it would really banjax those bleedin’ crows!

In the garden, the tulips are on the cusp of blooming, as is the Euphorbia oblongata, which is in its third year so getting a bit tired. With that polytunnel, and a few extra spring bulbs, this time next year I could be making up bouquets! 

 

By Jove, She’s Got It! (She thinks…)

When I got to the field today, a crow flew up from one of the rows of soil with something in its mouth. It was probably only a bit of cardboard but it set me thinking and, blow me, the merest bit of research reveals that they eat crops! Of course - scarecrows! Duh!

Crows I can deal with. Crows are easy! I feel some Country Living bunting coming on. Ooh, and maybe a tastefully dressed scarecrow…

 

Monkey Mind

Progress at the field has been somewhat slow this week – and frankly a bit depressing. 

Not happy unless something is churning round my mind at night (toss-turn-sigh-toss-turn-sigh-thump pillow-toss-turn-sigh-toss-turn-sigh…), I have had more than a few nights with those bloody monkeys going non-stop.

Worry 1: I don’t think the plants are rooting any further down than the imported compost. The ground under the cardboard - undug, of course (just what have those worms been up to all winter?) - is compacted and stony. How could the roots penetrate? I have dozens of plants still to plant out , some of which need a planting hole much deeper than the compost, which has sunk down to just a couple of inches in places. What do I do about those?

Worry 2: Some BASTARD is eating my crops! All the aforementioned cornflowers are gone. Rabbits? I can’t see that the fencing has been breached. Could they be jumping over it? It’s as high as was recommended but maybe that’s not enough these days.  Maybe rabbits have evolved. Maybe some super-rabbit is leaping over it.*  Maybe it’s deer – although the Kindly Smallholders say they don’t get deer, and anyway there aren’t enough footprints – just the occasional hole in the compost. Pigeons maybe? Do they eat cornflowers? Don’t think it’s slugs. Not with that huge pile of grit round the plants and no slime trails.

I have dozens of plants desperate to be planted out, some of them just about to flower, and I have somewhere to plant them. But what’s the point if the crops are just going to be eaten?

Worry 3: The wind. God, the wind!! It’s driving me absolutely bleeding bonkers! Surely it can’t be doing the plants any good. And what about the flowers (if there ever are any)? One stormy night and they’ll be devastated. See below for temporary solution. You can’t really see from the photo but it’s very Cath Kidston - that made me smile if nothing else did this week. Don’t think it will protect the crops, but it gives me somewhere sheltered to sit and contemplate what the hell I’m gonna do with all these plants and all this land.

And, blimey, charity shops are expensive these days!

 

 

* That’ll be those SuperBugs they’re always talking about on the News.