I've been waiting two years for...

The first of many (I hope!) June 2023

Last year I got no zucchinis whatsoever.  The slugs at the allotment ate all my baby plants soon after transplant, and the single one left was crammed into an unfavorable position at home at the last minute and ended up not produced anything.

Somehow I neglected to buy new seed;  at sowing time this year late April), I sowed every single seed from a collection of varieties dated 2018.  I oversowed by a long shot, but wasn't sure any of them would sprout!  Luckily I got about 10 plants--and I have since bought a new packet of seed in a £1 sale, for next year.

All but two of the plants are growing at home in the kitchen garden, as I wanted to play it safe:  no problem with slugs here (thank you ducks).  The two at the allotment seem to have managed to survive the slugs, but it's unclear whether they'll produce just yet;  neither have formed any flowers.

But at home, in a bed newly enriched with partly composted chicken manure, the zucs are happening--after two years without I'm a little excited!  Several days ago I picked the first yellow one pictured above.  It had grown to a nice size and was delicious raw;  I marinated it (and some lightly blanched broad beans from the allotment) in a vinaigrette and we ate it on some lettuce (also from the garden).  

The I picked the first green one yesterday which went into a delightful minestrone soup alongside a garden cabbage, new garlic and fresh herbs;  we ate it with another salad, this time with marinated artichoke hearts (from the allotment).

Why so worked up?  I know zucchini has a reputation, but it's always been coy with me.  I envy the stories of people unable to give away their overabundance--this has never been my personal experience.  Maybe later this summer I'll be complaining about overflowing zucs (I can dream).

Protecting my food

 

Trying to save a few cherries, June 2023

Although I love my local wildlife (and they love my garden), I'm not quite willing to share everything with them.  I operate on a "don't ask don't tell" policy with bugs and slugs:  I don't actively try to kill them unless they are destroying in plain sight--such as cabbage caterpillars. 

Lovely lettuces, June 2023

The birds too are allowed a free rein with nearly everything in the garden--unless their idea of sharing means I don't get anything.  Obviously, the birds don't get the caterpillar treatment (ignomiously fed to my ducks), but I have to take a few precautions with particularly vulnerable plants.

Radish seedlings coming up--let's keep the pigeons off, June 2023

This year I'm protecting my lettuces and my direct-sown seed beds, mainly from pigeons.  Last year a pesky pigeon nipped off all my little swede seedlings as they came up, so this year I'm proactive.  The French beans were covered in mesh until they sprouted;  the radishes had the same mesh but graduated to plastic trays after sprouting (apparently pigeons particularly love brassicas), and the lettuces all have a bit of bird netting loosely draped over.

Apparently it's not too hard to protect against pigeons because they won't go anywhere they can't immediately fly to or from--and as they leap straight into the air to fly, this means they don't like to go anywhere with any sort of obstruction.  Thankfully my protective measures seem to be working.

And my little Stella tree is draped in some mesh and an old net curtain to save its 20 or 30 cherries (mainly from blackbirds although they are fair game for anything feathery out there).  As I mentioned previously, none of my three small cherry trees have produced much this year, and in a choice between a pittance of pie cherries or a pittance of sweet cherries:  I decided on the sweet.

Catching up, June 2023

Getting bigger, May 2023

Last winter I picked off all the small to medium sized unripe figs from my little tree, and also gave it a rather extreme haircut.  This year the newly formed figs have gotten big much quicker than usual, and there is plenty of new growth.  I wonder if they'll ripen earlier as well?  Normally those over-wintered fruits do "ripen" but are too dry to bother eating--only the new season fruits go soft and juicy.

I'm still busy in the garden, though the main planting is finished now.  I still have several seed trays on the go, all for successional planting;  the maincrop plantings are all in.  Right now I'm keeping on top of the weeding and watering.

It's been a very dry several weeks;  my water butts are all but empty, and the furthest reaches of the veg beds are suffering from lack of rain.  We have once more shoved the washing machine exit pipe out onto the garden for irrigation purposes but it doesn't reach all that way (the garden hose is at the allotment).  This week already has been very hot and is meant to stay that way. 

The ducks have lost their splashing tub until it rains again too, as we can't easily fill it otherwise--although they can still splash their heads in their smaller water tubs (which hold about 5 L each).  We're down to two ducks now, as our white duck (female) was found dead the other day:  at four years old I assume it was down to old age. 

No fruit formed this year on Laxton Fortune apple, May 2023

My little fruit trees aren't as productive this year, perhaps because of the cold spring.  The apples didn't really flower (they seem to flower biennially anyway) and all three of my little cherry trees have only sparse fruit;  I usually net the smallest, a Morello, but I don't think I'll bother this year: the birds can have them.  The Kordia is small but too big to net--maybe I'll net the Stella instead.  It also has only a couple dozen fruits, but as we've never got any, it'd be nice to taste them!

Providing wildlife habitat

 

Returning to the scene, May 2023

I've seen the hedgehog a couple of times recently in this bed, and it has retreated to the far leafy corner both times, leading me to suspect it has a nest.  Perhaps it has a nest of hoglets?  Recall we lost a week old duckling to a marauding hedgehog--maybe even the same hedgehog.  I can't blame it however, and am still glad to see it.

Unlike most of our neighbours, our garden has a mixture of all kinds of plants;  and instead of an open lawn with just one or two levels of plantings in perimeter flower beds, it almost resembles a slice of forest with a mature horse chestnut tree to a variety of smaller trees (hawthorns, laurels, fruit trees), shrubs from very tall to very small, a small bit of meadow (aka lawn) and lots of layers in between.  

All this provides good habitat for birds especially, who love our garden.  Mostly I love them back, although I'm not 100% about the pair of wood pigeons who keep trying to eat my lettuces--luckily they are foiled fairly easily with some loosely draped netting.  All the different leafy layers means there are a lot of places for birds to quickly fly to in case of danger (which is usually us, or one of the neighbourhood cats), and the different plantings provide lots of food, particularly bugs.

It's an excellent space for creepy crawlies with lots of habitat everywhere, for worms and woodlice to bees and beyond.  The birds are constantly feeding; I see the same male sparrow every day picking aphids off my plum tree (I think he has a bunch of hungry kids in the eaves).  In fact, it's the prime time of year to see parents teaching their chicks to find food, and what better place than our garden?  Soon we will have ripe berberis berries, and after that a steady stream of berries and seeds all over.

The wildlife that live and visit here rarely make trouble, and are either harmless or positively beneficial (like Mr Sparrow);  any drawbacks are small compared to the advantages.  They help me grow better food by eating pests and I love their feathery antics and songs.  I encourage them, the bugs, and even that bloodthirsty hedgehog with my garden design.