Why Bother?
‘Why bother with an allotment?’ is the question we are regularly asked and have often queried ourselves lately.
This year has been full of water, winds and high heat and each and every thing has been a test of our determination and tenacity on the plots.
‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to buy veg?’ has been another repeated question, which got us thinking if allotmenting is really just about the veg?
We venture onto the site on a bright, sunny Monday morning. An atmosphere of peace and tranquillity meets us through the huge, green, aluminium gates and not a word about the ‘real’ outside world continues.
Allotments are a real-life leveller. No-one wants to know about any previous histories or employment, just how good a grower you are and how well you keep your plot.
Our site is an immediate sensory overload for most. Rows of bright, green luscious plants on pristine plots are intermingled with flashes of colour from sheds and odd bits of dilapidated bunting dangling along well-worn footpaths.
We shout to plot holders who are carefully tending their precious crops on bended knees. They holler back in acknowledgment and we each get a sense of belonging, of ownership and of pride at being part of a such a close-knit (but peculiar) community.
Continuing along the main pathway we approach our own plots and are hit by the unmistakable perfume from the pretty pink climbing roses radiant in the early autumnal sunlight hanging skilfully onto the fences.
We smile and identify with the outline of familiar sheds and greenhouses. Our plots are bursting to the brim with colour, full to the edges with plants and, like a well-thumbed Dulux paint chart, colours ranging from one shade of the rainbow to the other.
The greens of the foliage meet the vibrant reds and oranges from the blousy sunflowers and zinnias.
The fading purple haze from the lollypop-like allium heads clash with the bright pinks and golds of the rudbeckia. They each dwarf the ruby red veined (somewhat sombre by comparison) beetroot leaves poking up from the raised beds.
It’s colour mayhem, yet it works – admittedly such a plethora of colours shouldn’t, but it’s nature and does!
To the greenhouses. Sliding open the doors we are greeted by the soft waft of ‘days gone by’. Fond memories of being a child again picking tomatoes throughout the long, hot, summer school holidays.
It’s a simple reminder that nothing has really changed through the years, but that smell is distinct.
Only people who know it, know it, but height (and age) seem to be the difference now with us, though the tomatoes grow and smell exactly the same!
That’s a snippet as to why we bother with allotments. They keep us mentally agile and physically fit.
We mix with wonderful likeminded growers on a peaceful piece of land. The biggest difficulty? Well, it’s a tricky one - remembering who wants sugar in their tea?
Kettles on!
We always grow things on our plots that we either love to eat, enjoy to look at in the house or are expensive to buy. It’s as simple as that!
One thing which fits two of those principles are blueberries. Tiny purple-coloured juicy berries bursting with goodness, identified as ‘superfruits’ in the culinary world that can be picked and eaten straight from the plant, fresh in cold in fruit salads, enjoyed warm in porridge or cooked in cakes.
We love them either way, though they can be tricky to grow successfully unless you follow some simple guidelines:
Blueberry plants don’t like being alone in a bed (enough said) but prefer to be in pairs, or even multiples.
They need ericaceous soil (acidic) whether they are planted directly into the ground or into pots and, either way, the soil needs to be well drained for the bushes to thrive and fruit.
Those growing on Julia’s plot are specifically grown for fruiting at different months of the year. This means that the fruiting season is elongated and instead of being confronted with gluts of them in weeks, they are picked on (almost) a daily basis from July through to September.
Blueberry bushes like to be planted close to each other. Julia’s are all together in a single raised bed which she tops up every year with ericaceous compost. By keeping them together in one bed it ensures they are fed the nutrients they need.
In addition, they enjoy a sunny position (don’t we all) and plenty of light too.
This year the old fruit cage that had previously protected the plants collapsed. So, in true allotment style, we recycled four old metal arches creating a new netted bird barrier - so we eat the berries not the birds! Caring is not always sharing…!
Remember back in the 80’s when dried flower arrangements were in every room gathering dust in baskets? Well, those flowers are back on trend!
Back in March we set trays of multipurpose compost for the seeds of the helichrysums - AKA strawflowers.
Easy to germinate, the seedlings were pricked out into individual cell trays until late May when they were set out in rows in numerous raised beds.
Within weeks buds appeared and since then have produced continuous displays of daisy- like flowers in pretty pinks to bright whites.
Beautiful as modern fresh flowers which can still also be dried!
There are few sights that excite us more than ‘Bill the Muckman’ (Bill North) when he arrives on the site in his (always) immaculate Kia Sorento pulling the trailer heaving with bagged up ‘gold’!
‘Gold’ maybe an inaccurate description to non-gardeners but for us, his precious cargo is priceless!
Galloping (Miranda style) along the paths to greet him, we unload the bags straight into our shared muck-bay laying it to rest under the black plastic cover until November.
Then we will pile it thickly over our soil and beds like the icing the top of a cake! Mmmmm!
When you buy netted fruit such as tangerines or lemons what do you do with the nets?
Well, Julia uses them to support her melons - and by crikey they need it!
Melons grow really well in the warmth and protection of the poly tunnel, but whilst the fruits put on weight, they often grow too heavy for the thin stalks to support them, resulting in the fruit snapping off the plant before they are properly ripe.
Julia wraps each growing melon in a recycled net and pegs each to the trellising reducing the weight off the stems.
