Jobs around the house etc

Saturday:

• unpacked seeds from Dobies
• laid out onion sets and garlic
• carted milk bottles full of water to the allotment butt
• chatted with (let’s call him) Philip and (let’s call him) Alex
• fixing the garden butt no.1 and clearing out sludge from the bottom – good compost!
• pruning and sorting out kindling

• making marmalade (left pips in, oops)

Sunday:

• carted milk bottles full of water to the allotment butt
• chatted with (let’s call him) George
• fixing the garden butt no.1 – the filler didn’t work, but I found some plumbing fixer in the shed
• making more marmalade (without pips)
• updating this ‘ere blog

Planning the plot

Before the digging, you have got to have a plan.

That’s my excuse for keeping the spade in the shed.

It’s half an allotment. There is no recognised standard allotment size in the UK though according to that ever-reliable source of information, Wikipedia , plots are generally between 200 and 400 square metres.

As the rain dripped off my head last Saturday, I paced out my little piece of land. There are no formal markings on our site – I promise not to criticise the Parish Council. But at a rough guess, Allotment 5½ is 120 square metres, give or take half a square pole.

Plenty of room.

Last Sunday I sat down with pencil, graph paper, ruler and seed catalogue. Old fashioned, I know. Many years ago I struggled with garden design software. Maybe it was lack of processor speed, memory or me not reading the instructions. Anyway. Until I become a CAD expert, I will stay old school.

The plan is to dig a number of small plots as we go. I sketched
out 4 or 5 plots of 10 square metres or so. This should accommodate the planting plan.

For this first allotment year, there is no need to get clever. We will stick with a basic assortment of vegetables.

• early and main crop potatoes
• white and red onion sets
• garlic
• peas
• runner beans
• leeks (knowing the soil this last one might me a challenge)

The garlic, onions and earlies will sit in the first plots at the far end from the main path. These will go in asap. Given another couple of reasonably not-to-soggy weeks, I plan to start digging in mid-February. I think that is at about the limit of how late the garlic can be planted.

We will aim to plant onions in that same first plot. And, with any luck, the potatoes will go in during the first half of March.

March looks to be the crucial month for completing the plots. I have got a week’s leave planned to break the back of the digging – or perhaps my back.

Because we can still have cold days through March and April, there will be no rush with the beans and peas. We were still harvesting beans in September from the garden plot last year.

Speaking of the garden plot, that is being reserved for green leaves and whatever comes to hand.

Herbs are already on the go – thyme, sage and mint. Basil seeds are due to be sown sometime in the next few weeks. I am keen to try germination in the airing cupboard. My inventory picked out some old marjoram too. That about completes the herbs.

Finally, in the greenhouse, we’ll try again with tomatoes (a disaster last year) and cucumbers (a surprise).

Sounds like a plan.

Water Water Everywhere

It’s not that North Devon lacks water, particularly in the last 12 months.

In 2007, rainfall was something like 70% above average over the summer months.

It was soggy from about the first week of May until early August. And oh how the wind blew, as only it can on the hills of North Devon.

Up on the allotments, potato blight took hold in the damp conditions.

Ironic, perhaps, as the allotments have no water supply. The only running water comes out the sky – usually horizontally.

One of the more resourceful plot holders – let’s call him Bill – has rigged up an elaborate water collection system. At the village road end, over 100 metres from his plot(s), sits the football team’s clubhouse. Bill has an arrangement with the club. He gets their runoff for maintaining the gutters.

Last weekend – in the rain – Bill was busy pumping water into several large storage tanks he has installed up there. It made my 210 litre water butt, which I carted up, look puny.

On the (virulent) local grapevine I’ve heard that the Parish Council refused to install a water pipe. They argued it would put up allotment charges. At £5 a year charges are hardly steep and most plot holders seemed happy to fork out a bit extra.

Like Bill, I’ve got my own ingenious water collection system. Well, not really.

Our next door neighbour’s downpipe empties into a butt. And, proceeds to overflow after an hour or so of rain. The runoff is considerable and there’s no proper overflow into the drainage system.

To get the water from here up to the allotments I’ve been filling 4 pint (2.27 litre) milk cartons, pushing them up in the wheelbarrow and filling up the allotment butt. A few more journeys and it will be full.

Last March I bought in a second butt to capture more water. It was a flatpack tank (cheap!) that lasted about 3 weeks before collapsing under the weight of water on night of heavy rain. There’s a more sturdy replacement there now.

But, this morning I went out to find that the tank I inherited was empty. It has a leak.

Getting an allotment

Sometime in March, I will take possession of half an allotment.

I say “sometime in March” because thanks to the endemic disorganisation of the local Parish Council it is a bit hard to discern exactly when the tenancy begins.

Meanwhile, the water butt had a wheelbarrow ride a couple of weekends ago and should, hopefully, be an ample source in the summer months. More on the water situation later.

Let’s get back to the start.

Why an allotment?

Not original. The usual arguments apply.

Supermarket fruit and veg are generally tasteless, shipped too far (even the British goods) and line the pockets of the supermarkets rather than the growers. We have tried alternatives. When living in London, we shopped for a while at Borough market. But, it seemed to me that much of produce was far from local. And, we were paying farmers’ market prices – ouch!

We also tried Clapham Farmers’ Market. Produce from closer to home, but still too pricey.

You cannot beat growing your own. Knowing the effort that has gone in and that the produce has travelled but a few paces: that’s incentive.

It is hard work though. I’m certainly not looking forward to the digging.

Back in London a few years back, I dug a small plot and threw in some potatoes. We sowed some leaves, onions, garlic and peas – but the slugs ate those. In the hot summer days, potato plants popped up and we got a fairly good crop. Even those planted in tubs grew. It never ceases to amaze that any old idiot can grow things.

So, moving to North Devon 13 months ago, getting an allotment was a no-brainer.

Easy. Until tackling the Parish Council.

I don’t want to be too hard on the council. I take my hat off to anyone who stands as a Parish councillor. It’s unpaid and not on the path to political heights, at least not around here. Yet, managing 15 or so allotments should be a simple task. Write the rules, allocate the plots, collect the rent and deal with the odd difficulty.

Or not.

Contacting the Parish clerk proved the first challenge. No sign of an e-mail address; failed to return phone messages; so, gasp, left to snail mail. A couple of weeks later came the disappointing news that there was a waiting list. No indication how many others were on the list, mind you.

Ok, so Plan B went into effect for last summer. More on the results later, suffice it to say that our south facing garden gets too little sun. 2007’s buckets of rain and North Devon’s best spring and summer gales wrecked damage. But, we’ll get back to that.

Meanwhile, over the spring and summer, I got to know people in the village and started going to monthly Parish council meetings. Soon it became apparent that the council was not quite up to scratch managing the allotments. Several plots had lain uncultivated for years. At least two allotment holders had two (or more!) plots. There were chickens and geese, tractors muddying up the plots and plans for a poly tunnel.

By autumn, the council finally got its act (sort of) together. It was decided to enforce a few rules – retrospectively. One allotment each; untended plots to be repossessed; no livestock; no poly tunnels. I’ll spare you the democratic details and angry scenes at council meetings.

The day finally came in November when the logjam was broken and an allotment was allocated!

Er, but.

I was getting plenty of advice from plot holders and fellow gardeners’ club members. Seemed, this was going to be a tough challenge. A couple of visits to the allotments convinced me that half an allotment would do.

I heard through the grapevine that the holder of number 5 – let’s call him Barry – was struggling himself with a full plot. I met up with him at a council meeting and he offered a share. That sounded a good idea, but I was concerned that this was done above aboard. Given the management chaos, I needed the assurance that I wouldn’t lose tenure rights.

This message was passed to the clerk. Silence. For two months.

After the January council meeting, I tackled the clerk who swore that my letter hadn’t arrived. But, no problem, I could have allotment number five-and-a-half.