Growing!

There is a certain cruelty to the UK weather turning wonderful as we slip from our third week of Covid-19 lockdown into a period of indefinite confinement. I am among the fortunate who have outdoor space and I am counting my blessing as the weeks blur into each other. Not least because I have my garden and the unexpected lack of formal work has meant that I am able to devote more time to it than in previous years. So I have been growing!

I was partly prepared in that I bought seeds and compost before lockdown - which was fortunate for me as, if you've looked, you'll know that you currently can't find a growbag for love or money! But if you haven't bought seeds, all is not lost. One of the most exciting successes I have had this month is that I threw some butternut seeds (from the butternut we ate) into a pot and just about all of them have germinated! As a seasoned optimist, it wasn't the result I was expecting at all and my bemused family have been dragged, one by one, into the greenhouse, to observe these miraculous sproutings.

Before the miracle of the butternut, I have to admit to playing it safe. Leafy greens are easy (I can grow them - so I know). I have successfully grown some kale and rocket and have planted them out into my veggie patch. Kale, I believe, likes it best cool, so the success of this crop remains to be seen.

Spinach (another fool-proof crop) and beans are currently growing in what remains of my single growbag. Having proved a failure at staking anything successfully, I have gone for dwarf beans. These should be easy to manage and the ones I have grown before have yielded really well.

Otherwise, I have courgette growing (they are pretty hardy - so another one to go for if you are not very good at this cultivating lark) and cucumber too. I actually have managed to sprout some tomatoes, a crop I have found really difficult to seed in the UK. This was a bit of a shock as I always thought tomatoes were easy. When we lived in Messina, in the far North of South Africa, I would sow tomatoes straight into beds and they were great! But no such luck here where temperatures fluctuate and tomatoes are tetchy. Top advice for tomatoes: cheat! Buy well-established seedlings or get someone more green-fingered to get them going for you. My friend, Margaret supplied me with tomato seedlings last year and I had a bumper crop. More credit to Margaret than me - but the tomatoes were worth the lack of growing pride! Actually, another good tip from Margaret  is to sow seeds in toilet roll inners. This means that there is minimal disturbance to the roots as you plant them out - a time where I frequently maul my seedlings to the point of no return. A couple of toilet rolls can be put in one pot. They are also quite easy to monitor, because you can see how wet the cardboard is.

Project wise, I am also attempting to grow a sweet potato. Having previously been told that Sweet potatoes won't grow in the UK, I stumbled across a you tube video that informed me that I could. So the sweet potato project is in progress. This video is below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDc6R-nfwcM

The good news for those with small gardens is that, apparently, sweet potatoes will happily grow in a large tub ( a rubble tub will do) and that apparently they produce copious vines with very pretty flowers. All of this remains to be seen - as my potato is still sitting in water waiting to do - well - anything...

Although I have a garden, my space is limited and so I have tried to be creative with creating growing opportunities. One idea I have come up with is to convert 5-litre containers into hanging pots. This is an ecover washing liquid bottle, well-washed out and with the middle section cut out, leaving the handle as a hanging opportunity. I have two of these, sewn with rocket, and will give one to my flat-inhabiting daughter just as soon as lockdown is over.

           

I know that I am unbelievably fortunate to have a garden at this unusual time, but having something grow and flourish reaffirms the stubbornness of nature and life. However small your home, I hope that you also have the chance to watch something grow as the weather warms and we learn to deal with our new reality.

Stay safe, everyone!

Going Green

2018 was definitely the year when The People decided to take action against what is happening to our world. There was a whole-sale rebellion against plastic straws; single use plastic and palm oil were in the news, with all sorts of people vowing to stop, stop, stop... smell the roses, observe the deer at dawn and just appreciate what we have.

But the momentum seems to have slowed since then. Iceland (the supermarket, not the country), which bravely declared that it was going palm oil free in its products, has been slated by some of the press because products with palm oil are still found on its shelves. The CEO's argument that it was existing stock was seen as a sort of skulduggery in a press that can only be described as designed to discredit Iceland's efforts. Don't get me wrong, I understand completely that Iceland's move has an economic motivation as well as environmental, but it seems to me that we, as a society, are quite happy to shoot down any action that questions the status quo.

Take the recent children's environment protests. `What good can it do?' was a comment I most frequently heard. Well, surely the point is that people are taking action. Children are stepping up and effectively saying `not in my name'. Which is a good starting point, but we need to keep following through. As adults, we need to put our money where our mouths are and not blindly buy into products and movements which we know are going to harm us. Will we be able to magically change everything? No. But maybe we can change some things and gradually the change in thought will change the world. We know this - we have seen it before, throughout our history.

Any-way, my own efforts are predictably scrappy, but I do try to make conscious decisions about what I use and how `green' I am. I recycle with a psychotic zeal, regularly berating my family on throwing away items that are recyclable. (And yes, I can hear the nay-sayers saying that it all ends up in a dump any-way, but I have to TRY) and I conserve where I can in terms of resources and growing my own.(The latter with, admittedly, limited success).

Cleaning products are a bug-bear (don't get me started on bathroom products - those are a nightmare!) Despite the impressions I might give to my nearest and dearest, I do, in fact , appreciate a clean-ish house. My sister went through a phase where she only used vinegar and lemon juice to clean. A really good approach, but not suitable to all surfaces and the smell of vinegar doesn't appeal to everyone!

I have tried to winnow down the items I keep at home, the idea being that I have a clearer idea of what chemicals I am using and am retaining some sort of greenish control. Where possible, I try to use products that are touted as eco-friendly. In my kitchen and laundry, I use Ecover products. This Belgian company has a long list of environmental credentials and their dishwashing liquid comes in a bottle made from 100% recycled plastic - a big plus. I do, however, have an axe to grind with Ecover in terms of refills. You can buy most of their products in bulk and I have looked into buying their laundry detergent in bulk (secretly hoarding loads of detergent bottles to facilitate this) only to find that the unit cost of bulk buying is too close to the unit cost of smaller buying to make it worth while! In fact, I went to a `green' store in Bishops Stortford to refill my Ecover laundry liquid to find that I paid more for a refill than I would for a new bottle of detergent! How does that make any sense? Needless to say, Ecover, I think some work is necessary....

My hero product at the moment is Waitrose ECO-logical multi-purpose cleaner. I use it to clean everything, including the carpet that my old dog has the odd accident on. Really like this one!

But if we are to go really, really green, I have to mention olive oil (although I suppose any natural oil would do). After an unfortunate accident involving nail polish remover on our wooden table, I accidentally discovered what a great wood polish olive oil is. Applied liberally, left to sink in and then buffed a bit later to take off any residue - it is brilliant! And then I discovered that it works well on leather too. Our leather sofa is looking a little worse for wear with dogs, child and sun. A quick once-over with olive oil seems to do the trick and moisturise the leather. Very impressive!

None of which makes me a Martha Stewart dressed in flax - but I like to think that I making conscious decisions about the sort of world I live in and want to leave to my children.

I'd really like to hear your views and secret green hacks. We live in a wonderful world, lets keep working at it!

It's gorgeous out there!

I love where I live. Although not as deep in the countryside as I might dream of, my rural-ish existence means that I am surrounded by fields and trees and wake up to birdsong. (Ok - and some traffic noise...)

This morning, a mild and still morning following a night's rain, was the sort of morning I felt I could walk for ever. Of course, I couldn't, obligations and a old and cranky dog being the most pertinent reasons, but I felt I could. And I reflected on how very lucky we are in the UK to have such access to green space. You have to have lived elsewhere in the world to really appreciate a public footpath and an open playing field. How very, very lucky! There are many countries with far more space than our little island, but their land is almost universally privately owned and jealously fenced in. Our right to roam seems an essential part of our civil liberties and one that is incredibly dear to my heart.

Which is why fly-tipping and public littering make absolutely no sense to me. Of the first, why would someone EVER feel it was okay to drive along a beautiful country lane and dump their detritus? What on earth is going through their heads when they decide to spoil an area? Are they thinking `not in our backyard?' Well, I have news for the fly-tippers: it IS your back yard. Our rights of access make every little bit of this gorgeous country your back yard - and mine. And frankly, I am becoming a little pissed off at the regularity of fly-tipping down the lanes I walk. Not only does this habit create an eyesore and unnecessary cost for councils, but it shows an appalling lack of self-respect. Yup - that's what it boils down to: a complete lack of self-respect in that you are showing how little morality and responsibility you possess. And those that pay for dodgy clearances are just as much to blame. Legitimate waste collectors are listed on council websites. If they are not - contact your council. It's that easy. Don't think that your waste is going to be properly disposed of just because the man in the van said it would be. Insist on seeing records from the municipal waste sites. Take some responsibility! Because, of course, the bad news is that councils will sift through the fly-tipped waste and inevitably find some scrap that will bring them to your door - and you will be liable.

And as for those who throw their waste out of car windows...I would bet that the vast majority of those who chuck their McDonalds wrappers out of their vehicles tut-tut in sympathy when watching Blue Planet. As if plastic waste is something that comes from somewhere else.  What on Earth do you think will happen to your Big Mac box or your Costa coffee cup when you fling it out so that your car stays clean? Do you really think it is going to biodegrade? Or do you just not care? Because it isn't on your home turf? Pathetic! When I was growing up in South Africa, we had a slogan that caught on with children. It was `litter-bug, litter-bug, shame on YOU!' And shame on you! This beautiful country, where we all own so much of the breathing space deserves a whole lot more respect. Take your litter home. It isn't rocket science.

I can't say it enough: this country is beautiful. And even though I am its adopted child, I love its lanes, its trees, its fields, its public paths, its vast public parks, its dips, twists, mud, grit and ancient resilience with every bit of me. And it is not just mine. It is ours. And because it is ours, we need to look after it. Every one of us.

Go out. Have a walk. Listen to the birds. Look for the signs of Spring in the snowdrops and black hawthorn and beginning buds. Remember how lucky you are.

New Tree!

The skies are still grey and we've hit that bit of Winter when nothing seems to change and the possibility of Spring seems about as remote as sprouting wings. I keep making `I'm going outside' noises, but the cold and damp have got the better of me. I am happy to walk the dogs, but then equally happy to consider how I might mow the lawn/weed the beds/ cut the hedges, from inside- and tomorrow.

I have, however, in a rare show of industry, replaced my dead cherry tree with a rowan tree (otherwise known as a mountain ash). Trees in gardens are not everyone's cup of tea. Grandad Whyman's great pronouncement on trees was that `Ah don' raat laak ah tree in me garrden'. (read strong Yorkshire accent) But then grandad Whyman had a postage stamp in a mining village and was far better at growing vegetables than I am. I rather like a tree in a garden. And I am now fortunate enough to have enough garden to have several trees.

Any-way, back to my lovely rowan tree. My  Sorbus Commixta Embley. I have a couple of reasons for choosing this tree, despite the sceptical looks from my knowledgeable neighbour and some muttering about the mess it will make. Firstly, the flowers and berries are supposed to be very bee and bird friendly. Tick. It is rumoured to be well-behaved and generally hardy. Tick. And then there's the idea that it is a British tree that has long been mentioned in folklore - so it has brevity. Tick. And it wards off evil spirits....Yes. The last of these reasons might seem a little out there, but I live in the country(ish) now. With no street lights and across from some deep (ish), dark woods. On a dark night, when the wind is gusting and a fox is calling in the dark mass of trees just a field away from me, it is easy to think that something scary is about. And if a tree fixes it - well, I will say no more.

And I suspect that I am not alone. Out where I live there are numerous horse-shoes nailed to walls and above doors. Yes, it is horsey country, but there are an awful number of shoes on walls. Holly plants also seem to  feature heavily and my own established hedges are holly-heavy. While I was looking for my replacement tree, I discovered that holly is a traditional hedge plant not only because it forms a good strong barrier, but apparently because it also keeps witches away. They cannot run across the top of holly hedges as they might on those of more accommodating plants.. Holly trees themselves are rumoured to be powerful magic. They ward off evil and, according to several websites, lightning. They also make good wands. But holly trees drop really prickly leaves and make walking outside in bare feet  intolerable - so I settled on a Rowan tree.

Buying a tree in Winter is actually a good move. They are sold as bare rootstock and you essentially get more tree for your money. From what I understand, planting the tree while it is dormant also gives it a better chance of establishing itself before the growing season of Spring arrives. Or so the theory goes - watch this space! This is the second tree I have bought on the internet from primrose.co.uk. The trees arrived well-packaged, delivered via courier within a day or two of ordering. When I first moved in, I bought a flowering cherry and two blueberry bushes from Primrose. All have established well. So a sneaky little recommendation there.

So that was my early January project. I am now waiting for my rowan tree to grow and produce lots of lovely berries, which, according to the website treesforlife.org.uk I can make into a jelly or, dare I say it, a strong alcoholic drink. Hmmm. Roll on Spring!

2019

2019. And the grey dankness of December has given way to the grey dankness of January. There is, however, the consolation that the Winter solstice is now behind us and the days are becoming minutely longer with every passing 24 hours.

Which shines a little optimism into what is otherwise a very dull time of year. Actually, I lie. I like New Year. I like the sense of new beginnings and that feeling of optimism that this year might just be the one. And in many ways, 2019 IS my year.

It never fails to amaze me how quickly time tumbles on. We are swept along at such a rapid rate, that we have tumbled into a new year before we know it. But this year, I have grabbed at a metaphorical branch and hauled myself out of the torrent. I have given up my full time job and, while there are all sorts of ideas on the brew, at the moment, I am clinging to my branch and watching the water rush past. It is a bit weird.

In a good way.

I am able to be outside more. I can clump around the muddy fields with dogs in tow to my hearts content. I can clump around muddy woods with my smallish girl in tow until she gets bored. Which is what we did yesterday: meeting some new friends in Hatfield Forest where the children hauled branches, climbed trees and played hide and seek. They built dens, discovered sleeping wasps and uncovered a nursery of tiny woodlice. A reminder of how lucky we are to live in this country where open areas are so easily accessible.

We froze! And came home very hungry. Which leads neatly into my easy muffin with a twist recipe!
It is no secret that I am not the most enthusiastic cook, but I do like a bit of baking, especially if it is easy and I don't have to weigh stuff. Baking is also a sort of bear-like hibernation tactic when it is cold outside... and keeps me from having to think about all the stuff I should be doing in the cold outside!

This is an adaptation of a very easy muffin recipe I found a while ago. My daughter isn't the greatest eater of breakfast and so I started making muffins on a regular basis to try to ensure she ate something before we got going in the mornings. I use oats and yoghurt instead of flour and butter to make them more `wholesome', but I add and take away as I feel the urge. I have a friend who makes muffins with grated courgette. All very healthy - but that would involve grating and I hate grating. I use cups to measure everything. I don't have scales and precision really isn't my thing. So all measurements are a `roughly'.

Easy Muffins with a twist
 3 cups of oats
1 1/2 tspns baking powder
1/2 tsp salt (which I quite often forget)
1/2 cup brown sugar (cut/leave out according to taste)
1/2 cup natural yoghurt
1 slightly beaten egg
2 mashed bananas

And the twist is half a cup of ginger beer. But you can leave this out.
Add whatever else you fancy/have in your cupboard.
As a note, if you don't use bananas, the oat mixture doesn't bind very well. In this case, add 1 to 2 tablespoons of cornflour and maybe a little more baking powder (1/2 tspn)

Mix everything together. Spoon into a muffin tray and bake at 180 degrees for about 15 minutes. Easy!

Especially nice with Seville orange marmalade as made by my friend Margaret. But if you have no Margaret, any marmalade will do!

Health and happiness to all for 2019.

Christmas-ish

I'll cut to the chase: I don't like Christmas. It is an in-joke with those who know me. At this time of year, I respond equally to my own name, Scrooge or Grinch and even my students have joked that Scrooge, that epitome of anti-Christmas cheer is my `pin-up boy'!

It's not the idea of Christmas - that's fine: peace, goodwill, generosity to our neighbour. All of these are good things which lie behind the religious and humanitarian reasons for this holiday.

But the reality of modern Christmas is that it is an ugly commercial animal, filled with ugly commercial objects and an ugly glut of food and waste. Every year I find myself succumbing to the pressures of too much food and too much stuff. All in a bid to make this `the best Christmas ever!'

And every year I emerge grumpier and more cynical about the whole process. I am deeply embarrassed by the waste we produce. Mortified by the overkill. Completely devoid of that famed Christmas Spirit.

And while this would all be perfectly fitting were I, like Scrooge, a grumpy old recluse, it is not the best attitude when there are children about. And I have some of those. My big girls are well inured to my grumping, but my youngest offspring is still trying manfully (woman-fully?) to summon up some Christmas cheer. So I have tried to remember what it is I have ever liked about Christmas.

Hmmmm. Growing up in South Africa, I liked to swim over the Christmas period. We typically had barbecues (or braais as they are called down South) and sometimes the Ledger famed prawn-parties. We, the children, would spend all day in the pool if allowed. But swimming and barbecues are not really an option in December in darkest Essex, so I have had to think further.

What makes Christmas good? My long-suffering better half says that it is the chance to get family together. To cook together. To enjoy each other's company.

So this will be a starting point in my efforts to de-Grinch Christmas. I will try to be nice. I will not moan (at least not incessantly) about wrapping paper, packaging and all the unnecessary calories. I will let people drink too much without being disapproving. I won't calculate the real world value of one day's worth of groceries (at least not so that anyone hears).

And I will try to re-engage the Christmas spirit by getting rid of some of the stuff that irks me and also by trying to include some more of the stuff that makes this a cheery time.

1.) I have chatted to family and asked that we limit presents to children (less pressure to buy and less chance of getting yet more obligatory gift sets). So far, so good.

2.)Baking. I'm not a whizz in the kitchen, but I like the odd bit of baking. We began making gingerbread cookies to hang on our tree when we lived in Mozambique. We have continued this as a new tradition and (if not all the dough is eaten) bake enough to decorate together and give some to our neighbours.

Today, in the lead-up to the Big Day, I decided to try my hand at making a milktart (Melktert in Afrikaans).  It is sort of Christmassy, in an egg-noggy cinnamony way and it reminds me of being a child, so a bit atmospheric. Its a concrete attempt at cheerful...

The recipe comes from one of my granny's books `More South African Deep Freezing' by Alice Theron. Published in 1971 it is full of nuggets of wisdom such as `Fat pimply children grow up to be fat, sallow people'  which is part of the introduction to her desserts section.  It is also full of the sort of no-nonsense recipes one would expect from a 1970's domestic goddess.  (She adds, further in her introduction to the desserts section: `I consider my own figure and it's up to them to look after theirs'.)
The milktart recipe goes as follows (credit to More South African Deep Freezing; Alice Theron; Howard Timmins; 1971)

You will need to have a ready baked pie crust. I am rubbish at pastry, so won't offer advice here. Essentially: flour, butter, sugar and a bit of salt.
For the filling you will need (makes one pie)
2 eggs
2 tablespoons cornflour
2 tablespoons flour
1/4 cup of milk
1 3/4 cups milk (the reason for this separation will become clear)
1/2 cup sugar
pinch of salt
several drops of vanilla
15 grams butter
Cinnamon for dusting

Method:
Beat the eggs. Add flour and cornflour and mix well until all the lumps are gone. Add 1/4 cup milk. Mix well. Put aside.

In a pot, heat the 1 3/4 cups of milk with the sugar and salt. Bring to the boil while stirring.

Remove from the heat and stir in the egg mixture. Place back on the heat, while stirring. Reduce heat and keep stirring. This is the scary bit, since it gets quite lumpy. KEEP STIRRING. Remove from the heat and keep stirring until the mixture becomes a smooth custardy mix (my words - not Alice's!)

Add the butter and the vanilla. Stir rapidly.

Allow to cool a bit, then pour into the pie crust. Dust with cinnamon.

Bake in a hot oven for about 10 minutes.

Tarrrrraaa!

Mine looks a little sallow, but the consistency in right - and it tastes very good!

3.) Wrapping paper. I have been going on about this for years! This year, I have dumped traditional wrapping paper.  I have bought brown paper and cloth ribbon. While I don't know the environmental credentials of ribbon I reckon it is reusable, so far better than much of the wrapping from previous years. And, I must admit, I have quite enjoyed wrapping presents and I think they look quite delightful!

4.) Supermarkets. I have avoided these. These are like highways to hell (apologies Meatloaf) at this time of year. I have shopped my main groceries online, have used my local dairy delivery service and have tried to find produce at farm shops and markets. In fact, just today, I have discovered Pearce's Farm Shop (http://pearcesfarmshop.com/) a bit of a trek from me - but far more fun than a Tesco crush.

So far, so good - I'm beginning to think I will manage cheerful.

My tactic for the actual day is to hand it all over to my family, who understand my foibles and, I hope, love me all the same. If it all becomes too much, I intend to go for a very long walk.

Wishing everyone, Grinch and Consumer-god/dess alike, happiness and love, not only over the next few days, but into the New Year too!

Figuring out the land

It has, frankly, been a terrible year for my garden. After a rather successful first year in the veggie patch and a generally happy first year on the rest of my new plot, much of this was down to the diligence of the previous owners and had very little to do with my own efforts. But, it would seem, a second year is the proof of the pudding.
Not that the weather has helped in any way. The long cold winter of 2017-2018 turned into a baking summer where all my rain barrels turned dry. While this was brilliant for my apple crop and for the hordes of wasps that invaded, it wasn't so good for anything else.
 Crops that grew successfully in 2017 have failed completely this year and I have really had to up my game.  As autumn has closed, I have green-manured my veg patch, but I have yet to dig out my failed potato crop. The general advice seems to be to do this to stop any potential spread of disease - but no, I haven't done this yet...
On top of the wild weather, I found my garden invaded by ground elder. `Oh yes,' said my neighbour,' the ground elder arrived about 30 years ago in a load of top soil'.
Oh.
Ground elder is ridiculously impossible to get rid of. With a seething network of underground roots, the only answer seems to be to dig and dig and dig. But when it has taken root under the raspberries and grape-vine, the battle seems unwinnable...
I do have a strategy for next year and that is to try and dig it out nowish...if I could get myself to go out in the rain!
Far more concerning has been the death of a flowering cherry in the far corner of my front garden. It has been ailing since we bought the property, but has properly died now. Its leaves have curled up and it looks very grim indeed. My neighbours cheery response that it was honey fungus, a conclusion shared by my friend, the garden guru. If it is, the outlook is very grim indeed. Honey fungus is a deeply destructive underground fungus that attacks roots. The garden guru seemed certain, but there is an absence of peeling bark at the base, so I remain unconvinced. I think the most likely culprit is brown rot. But that might be a learning curve too. So cue cutting off all the dead/diseased bits and back to square one. (When it is not wet and cold...)
So my garden provides me with plenty to do and I have to admit - although clearly rubbish at the task, I love it!
And I love being in the country(ish). There is nothing that can match up to a walk across the fields, to the satisfaction of a home-grown apple and to the sheer joy of an autumn sunrise Love it!