This is a comforting little book that speaks up for ‘weeds’. The author is keen to tell you about their finer points, before telling you how to manage them in an earth-friendly way – if you still want to. He describes a selection of 60 weeds common to the UK Midlands. The principles apply to many other weeds of similar habit or species, so this is not intended to be a definitive guide. It is more of a ‘spiritual’ guide; a guide to developing a mindset that recognises that some weeds have a useful place, and others do perhaps need gently dissuading if we are to achieve our gardening goals. Continue reading
As I sit to type this there is a chill in the air, the sun is lower, and Autumn is signalling its presence. Mists float through the valley, and the trees are tinged with orange. Plants are increasingly frantic to seed, and insects and larvae have not much longer to feed. The perennial tree cabbage is clearly being enjoyed:
The borage has nearly finished flowering, but the bees tell me off when I try to remove it, even if there is just one flower left:
We want to invite the bugs to stay with us over winter, so they are nice and handy for the re-emergence of the garden in Spring. Rick has built a couple of houses, which we will have fun furnishing this weekend (no trip to IK*A required). Here’s one:
I’m still harvesting salad:
The tomatoes are ripening now (they’re outside against our front wall which holds the heat from the sun). I’m also harvesting red orache, nasturtium, garlic chives, chives, welsh onion, wild rocket, runner beans, sorrel, baby chard, golden oregano, lambs lettuce, mint, more runner beans … in fact, there is more out there than I can usually remember to harvest. (And by the way, all of those things listed do not get eaten by slugs).
So for now there is still plenty for everyone to eat. But we’d better make the most of it while we can.
Edible Perennial Gardening: Growing successful polycultures in small spaces. By Anni Kelsey, published 2014 by Permanent Publications.
This book sets out with a clear vision: “Looking towards a sustainable future when a polyculture of perennial vegetables is as familiar a feature of our gardening landscape as the conventional vegetable patch.” The book clearly traces the author’s own experimental journey towards this vision, and shares the information that she’s learned along the way. Continue reading
Following on from my last post on strategies to accept slug damage, I remembered taking a photo of the polyculture bed when the kale had been munched. This was on 12th June:
What a mess. Only two or three weeks later, on the 3rd July, it looked like this:
And a month later, on 12th August, it looked like this:
OK, so the cosmos began to dominate a bit, but … you can see that the bed did recover from a bit of early slug damage. This is how it looked yesterday, 26th August:
Still munched, but clearly managing to grow. By the time we can harvest the kale (from November onwards) the slugs and caterpillars will be bunking down for the winter, and we should have it all to ourselves. In theory!
Keeping a visual record and remembering to look back is a good reminder that plants and slugs have shared the same space for a long time now, and plants do manage to recover. In a month or two, my surviving endives might be thriving. You never know.
I walked out the other day to find this:
Endives seedlings munched to bare soil, despite being carefully tucked up in a pot with copper tape around the edge. I chose endives, rather than lettuce, because I thought it would be tougher and less attractive to molluscs. Not so. I spent the rest of the morning feeling frustrated and helpless, as no matter how hard I try to find edible plants that can survive slug damage, no matter how many precautions I take to try and protect plants, this still happens. My dream of lime green livening up the winter garden started to dissolve. I’m a rubbish gardener, I thought.
But. I’m stubborn. I have set out to garden without (knowingly) killing any wildlife, and whilst still providing food for our table. And I will do it. But I need to learn how to manage these feelings of sorrow and frustration when things like this happen. So here are three strategies I use to feel better when the critters crunch my lunch.
- Learn about your enemy – they might turn out to be a friend. The organic gardener and writer John Walker writes of molluscs: “These amazing, tenacious creatures are part of the dynamic,interconnected ecosystem of my garden. They beguile me, challenge me and teach me plenty …” They are detritus recyclers, clearing up debris and improving the soil, as nature writer Marlene Condon explains: “As snails and slugs become active, they will be delighted to find their favorite food (decaying plant and animal matter) waiting for them to feed upon. When these unusual organisms are provided with such a fine smorgasbord, they don’t bother your growing plants. Instead, they help to fertilize them—which is exactly what their function in your garden is supposed to be.” They are also lunch for other garden wildlife, including frogs, thrushes, blackbirds and hedgehogs.
- Look at what is working. Earlier this year, I dropped seedheads of lambs lettuce and land cress directly onto one of the beds. From experience, these don’t tend to get eaten. Low effort, low maintenance, and great contrasts of colours and flavours for winter salads. These are now coming up and so far, only tiny signs of munching:
- See the bigger picture – is there enough left over for you to enjoy? And the answer, of course, is yes – plenty! Whilst the endives are munched, I still managed to harvest all this for our salad: And the garden is not exactly full of gaps:
So in the meantime, I’ve put the endives up on a table with its legs in water, and will let the remaining plants grow on. When they are bigger and tougher, I will see how they fare in the ground. If they don’t survive, then they aren’t the right choice of plant. There are many others that are, and probably several more that I haven’t yet discovered. But meanwhile, I feel a bit better. Perhaps I’m not a rubbish gardener after all.
My flowers are being munched. Again. Earwigs are the culprit, feasting on cosmos, calendula and violas. So I’ve been looking them up on the Garden Organic website. And it turns out that they also eat garden pests including aphids … I did ask for help in that department. And thinking about it, I haven’t noticed aphid infestations for a while now. Earwigs also provide a food source for toads, birds, and hedgehogs. And they are one of the few insects that demonstrate parental care, with the mother ‘taking great care of them’, feeding and protecting the small white nymphs from predators. The mother also eats mold off the eggs to prevent it from killing them. So I can’t bring myself to ‘control’ their numbers, even with pots of straw. I need to look at how many flowers there are remaining – if I let things be there might be enough for all of us.
Earwigs don’t seem to eat leguminous flowers – beans, sweet peas, birds foot trefoil, and nasturtium. So another response might be simply to grow more flowers that they don’t eat. From experience, this list also includes snapdragons, borage, chamomile, toadflax, and verbena bonariensis.
Garden Organic tells me that earwigs do most damage between June and October. So if I want my violas, I can try timing the seed sowing to plant out in October to flower over the winter – which is when I want them anyway, as they are one of the few flowers that do their stuff in the winter months.
So there are plenty of alternative responses to stamping on the wriggly little creatures. Meanwhile, here’s a cosmos that hasn’t been nibbled yet.
Lambs lettuce is starting to show up all over the place. This happy self-seeder creates splashes of lime-green colour and soft mild leaves for winter salads, perfectly offsetting the dark green landcress and counteracting its strong flavour. The landcress seedheads have now split, and I’ve chopped them down and laid the trimmings directly onto the bed, seeds and all.
My saved seeds from the sorrel (shchnavel) have started to come up, so hopefully I will have small plug plants to add to the beds later for winter salads. There are also red mustard seedlings which germinated in about 24 hours flat, which will add colour to the winter beds. These are strongly-flavoured, but apparently are milder once cooked, so should be a good source of winter greens.
Red orache is producing well, and grew from saved seed. However, I keep forgetting to pinch out the top to encourage more bushy leaf production, so I now have tall plants that are starting to flower. This, of course, means more seed which is fine by me.
Welsh onion is romping away, and is a useful source of oniony greens for potato salad or mash. It has self-seeded, some of which I’ve collected, leaving the rest to sow itself.
Borage is everywhere, popping up out of the compost. Luckily we have learned how to eat the leaves – cut out the centre stalks and sweat them in olive oil and garlic until they look like spinach (don’t add water or they will be too wet).
What’s not working?
Whilst borage-blue sings out with the sweet pea hot pink and runner bean cadmium-red … whilst the bees are in seventh heaven … the actual beans are looking a bit floppy. And no wonder. Runners are thirsty plants at the best of times, and borage is no shrinking violet when it comes to taking up water. So I have taken out every other couple of borage plants to give the beans a fighting chance.
Well … who knew that cosmos would be such a thug? I thought their feathery foliage would be perfect for the polyculture, leaving room and light for leafy veg to grow. But no. No, no, no. The question now is whether to cut it back before it has even flowered, or put it down to experience and try something else next year. With hindsight, perhaps I shouldn’t have included it in the watering with nettle tea (nitrogen). This might have encouraged leaf production, which is the general idea for leafy veg but not for flowers.
There are few flowers in the back garden, so I might try moving some of the cosmos into a pot for back, creating more room for the kale and chard at the front. Some of the chard is so desperate that it is running to seed, but it isn’t too late to start again. Thinking to the future, I might try some herbs in and amongst the leafy veg, such as chamomile and dill. These dainty little herbs may be less thuggish and more useful. I’m sure cosmos has its place in the … er … cosmos, but that place is almost certainly in a pot.