The other evening I managed to reach the allotment after work with little more than half an hour left before dusk fell. There is a special quality about the place at that time of day. All was quiet and what I noticed most was a lovely fresh smell from the plants on the cooling air as I went about gathering vegetables.
I lit a candle lamp which hangs from the roof of my shed and the warm light from this, plus the green gingham curtains on one of the windows made the place look quite cosy, especially after a recent tidy and clean.
It is the end of the season and I am now harvesting the last of my beetroot and potatoes, although I planted a late crop of pink fir apple potatoes that still have healthy and bushy plants, so I shall leave these a little longer before digging them up. The lettuces have done well this year and have somehow managed to survive damage from slugs. A new row planted out about three weeks ago is growing very nicely and it is good to be picking a salad crop for eating at this stage in the autumn to which I then add nasturtium flowers that grow in abundance in my compost every year, until their sudden demise with the first hard frost.
The cucumbers, however, have not done so well and having only harvested one fruit this summer from two plants, I shall take advice from my plot neighbour who built a hotbed using about a metre of manure and a layer of compost on top in which to grow tomatoes and cucumbers.

Sunny September


September has been a magnificent month and on sunny days I have noticed a variety of small creatures going about their business that I would have expected to see in greater numbers throughout the summer season. It is when the weather is settled and warm enough for the place to come to life that I am most happy on the plot, accompanied by two robins waiting to pick up worms as well as bees and butterflies dipping in and out of flowers collecting pollen.
Brown shield bugs have been the most prolific insect this year and I have rescued one or two from my car and kitchen having carried them home among the vegetables. It is the frogs living in my very small pond (a purple flexi bucket filled with water) that I find most entertaining, as they disappear beneath the surface and then re-appear again, their heads barely visible under the weed. I had thought that there were two in there but at the weekend I counted four!
The Victoria plum tree produced another bountiful crop again this summer and so I made several jars of jam and also a caramel cake from a recipe in One Year at Books for Cooks No.1 (1995, Prior Publications) that I would recommend. It can be made with different types of fruit, which are layered at the bottom of the tin, so it looks very pretty once it has been turned out.
My work on building extra beds and raising the sides of existing ones has given me more growing space and I took particular care in preparing the bed for the brassicas, adding garden lime and manure. These vegetables have done especially well and I should be able to carry on cropping kale and borecole throughout the winter.

Secret Garden


On a few occasions, as I cycle to one of my places of work, I catch a very small glimpse of what must be London’s largest and most secret garden when a back entrance gate to Buckingham Palace is open and I can only imagine what kind of landscape lies beyond. This weekend there are many other hidden gems to explore as it is Open Garden Squares Weekend, organised by the National Trust. I visited a few gardens a couple of years ago and the roof garden at the Ismaili Centre was one of my favourites, a beautiful place of serenity in the midst of our bustling urban life.

My own garden at the allotment is somewhat hidden this summer as it sits between two untended plots that are now overgrown with tall grasses, buttercups and other wild flowers intermingled with brassicas that have gone to seed. It is an effort at this time of year to keep my own plot in good order and on each visit I am astonished at how much taller many of the plants have grown. Generally the weeds have not been too bad since I turned over the soil in the raised beds in the winter, adding manure and extending two, the largest and deepest of which is now filled with potatoes.

Elsewhere, most of the vegetables are coming along nicely and I have managed to grow lettuces to their full size, free of damage by slugs for the first time. My favourite additions to the plot this year are about half a dozen foxgloves, which are growing tall and gracefully among the herbs and I should hope may be admired by the fox itself, which remains elusive but for leaving holes in freshly dug earth, most likely in search of worms and grubs.

New Year


This young fox (pictured) was one of a litter of cubs born in the summer of 2009. The cubs used to play in a ‘no man’s land’ area between the allotment site and the wholesale plant producer next door, which is full of brambles and all kinds of rubbish. The vixen was the least timid fox I have ever met and I suspected it was her that took away one of a pair of leather shoes I had changed out of whilst I was gardening, never to be seen again. One winter’s day, a longstanding plot-holder had fallen asleep in his shed and was awoken by the fox pulling at his sleeve, which I thought may likely have had something to do with a familiar jar of biscuits. The fox that is there nowadays is much more elusive, as well as destructive, since it frequently digs large holes in the soft soil, often just after seeds have been sown.
I have made good progress so far this winter on the plot and shall aim to finish building the new areas of raised beds before spring arrives. Today was a murky day but I shifted a large heap of old weeds and tangled stems to the compost pile and then added a layer of muck on top, watched by a robin at either end. I am looking forward to seeing the snowdrops when they appear next month and I spotted the tip of one hyacinth beneath the protective leaves of a strawberry plant.



As we approach the winter solstice and the temperatures are now dipping below freezing, I look forward to seeing a covering of frost at the allotment to bring some sparkle to the otherwise almost barren and messy looking landscape, when all manner of non-organic artefacts lie exposed on the site.
Although the frost remained on the ground in the shady patches last weekend, the day was bright and the air fairly warm so it was very pleasant for getting on with my work. The plot is undergoing something of a transformation as I dig up three of the small side paths to create extra growing space between the already established raised beds. I also transplanted a few sections of a globe artichoke plant, which appears to have thrived since the start of the autumn having only produced a single artichoke over the summer. There is one more celeriac left to harvest from the best crop of this vegetable I have ever managed to grow and then I shall move on to the swede, which have not done so well as in previous years.
By mid-afternoon I can’t help but notice the loud chatter of birds as they prepare to settle down for the night in the trees that cover the boundary areas of the allotments and sports pitches beyond. One idea is that the birds become more vocal in winter as they call fellow birds to roost, which they do together to keep warm in these cold months. Last month I took a detour via the pond as I visited another plot and spotted a grey wagtail coming up from the water before it settled in the branches of a small chestnut tree nearby and did what its name suggests. Their tails are apparently longer than those of their relatives, the pied and yellow wagtails, and its distinctive, brilliant yellow breast turns a duller, more buffish colour in winter.



Overall it has been a very fruitful year on the plot and I was happy to have a good harvest of plums for the first time from a Victoria plum tree I bought a few years ago at a well-known supermarket here in London. Beside it is my Charles Ross apple tree which came from a grower up in Scotland and it produces such large, rosy apples that they receive many compliments each season. I spend much of September turning the apples into jelly and tarts as they don’t keep well and the birds (most likely parakeets, I think) devour any ripe ones left on the branches.
Already the ditches around the plot are filled with water and keeping the ground above flood level has been much of my focus since last winter’s downpours. I decided to dig a ditch all the way around and have shored up the sides of the beds with planks of wood so that I can pile more compost on top. There is still work to be done but my efforts have mainly paid off and I managed to gain second place in the best plot competition in July.
Typically for this time of year I am keen to begin clearing the beds but the nasturtiums are at their best now, having become rampant across any spaces on the plot until they undergo a dramatic demise when the first frosts arrive. The nasturtium flowers are a great attraction for bees and I marvel at the varieties of bees that come to collect pollen, each often being a different size and colour.

Best summer since 2006


My plot was looking even greener and bushier than ever on my visit at the weekend, after heavy rainfall the previous week followed by more sunshine.
It has been a good summer - apparently the warmest, driest and sunniest since 2006 - and I am very happy to have a crop of tomatoes for the first time since that same year. There are also a few pumpkins and squash hidden among the canopy of leaves and nasturtium plants, which are already quite a startling size, and the beetroot have been bigger than usual even though they were planted from old seed.
My special efforts to grow sweet peas with longer stems have paid off. I was given a book by a friend called Gardening for Pleasure by George E. Whitehead, published in 1947, and followed his instructions by pinching off the tip of the seedling plant, keeping one strong shoot and continuing to remove any side shoots. Some are a New Zealand variety called Erehwon after a novel of the same title (the word reads ‘nowhere’ backwards) and are still blooming nicely.
Our resident flock of parakeets, most noticeable by their loud squawking cries, have been curiously absent all summer and I would be interested to know what has happened to them. An advantage of them not being around is that the sunflowers have been left alone, since they will feed on the seeds as soon as they are mature, so the sunflowers have been the domain of dozens of bees this summer and I am told they sleep in the flower heads at night.

Allotment life


Sunday was something of a surreal day at the allotment. The strains of karaoke singing played out relentlessly from the rugby club next to the pitch at the far side of the site and I am hoping that this will not be a recurring theme.
As I trundled my wheelbarrow towards the gate to collect manure I almost ran over a fledgling blue tit, which was making a remarkable amount of noise considering its size. I have never seen such a tiny bird. It was almost round, about 3cm in diameter, and certainly still too young to fly. I hoped that its mother would appear, but when it was still there a while later a neighbouring plot-holder suggested putting it in a bird box on the oak tree in case the cat was on the prowl. A ladder was fetched and it was my job to place the little bird in the nest box along with some bird food.
Shortly afterwards I heard a loud squeaking sound and turned to see Arthur the cat hurrying past with either a large mouse or a vole in its mouth.
Last week I removed a wasps’ nest from the cupboard in my shed and saw for the first time a female black-tailed skimmer dragonfly which, contrary to its name, was a magnificently striking, golden colour with dark brown markings.
As for the vegetables, I have been enjoying harvesting and eating my asparagus, the potatoes and brassicas seem to be doing very nicely and an assortment of bean varieties are just emerging from the ground. Apparently it should be a good year for apples, following our long winter, and I am encouraged by the number of small fruit I can see growing on the tree now that the blossom has disappeared.

Top 100 Gardening Blogs


A few weeks ago I was contacted by someone called Neil Cruz who said that he would like to include my gardening blog in an infographic he was creating called ‘Top 100 Gardening Blogs to Follow in 2013’, which can be found at

Bombylius Major


Only for the past week or so has it been possible to work on the allotment to avoid squelching around in mud and I try to be careful not to cause too much disruption to my grass paths which I now consider to be a feature of the plot. Poor drainage has always been a problem on the allotment but this year the far side of the site has become a quagmire. This has led to a trail of new ditches being dug around the edges of plots, shored up on the sides with heaps of woodchip so that they now resemble little islands.
My best option has been to build raised beds, the deepest of which contains most of this year’s crops of potatoes, having last year lost most of the heritage varieties planted below ground level just before the downpours in spring.
After a long winter I find myself marvelling more than usual at the sudden transformation at this time of year. Forget-me-nots cover a fair portion of a bed at one end of the plot. I shall probably clear some of them away to make room for more vegetables, but for the moment they are creating a swathe of blue beneath the blossom laden branches of my apple and plum trees. Whilst working on this bed the other day a small creature caught my eye which at first I thought was a bee but I then noticed a menacing looking spike on the front of its head. When I looked it up I discovered that this insect has the rather splendid name of Bombylius major, the spike is its proboscis for sucking nectar from flowers as it is harmless and does not sting or bite.

Chips & Sprouts


Needless to say after all the rain we have had this winter the allotment is even more waterlogged than usual, so I paddle up the path towards my shed and then try not to walk around too much on the plot in the squelching mud. There are still some parsnips to harvest, a few swede and what is leftover of the rainbow chard now that the birds have been having a go at it.
I have been reading about the health benefits of Brussels sprouts and will try to remember to plant some next year. Sprouts are not my favourite vegetable, but somehow I missed them this Christmas and prefer to grow my own, although the weekend farmer’s market is also a good source of vegetables to fill in the hungry gap during these winter months.
My two hellebore plants are flowering nicely on the windowsill and would cheer up any dismal winter’s day. The flowers turn from pure white to soft green and pink hues as they age and already I have seen a bumblebee braving the cold to collect pollen from them.
Recently I discovered a neat pile of chips in the corner of one of my window boxes, perhaps left by a crow, so I removed these before they attracted a whiskered variety of pest in search of a meal.



The other day I remembered that it is now ten years since I took on the plot in June 2002. This might have been good reason for a celebration, but there has been so much going on this summer what with the Jubilee events and the Olympics here in London. Bunting has even reached a couple of the plots, to help scare away the birds, and back at home what I was most happy about was that the pansies and geraniums in my window boxes matched the colours of the Olympic bunting when it went up along the street.
Weather-wise it has been a strange summer, with so much rain earlier in the season causing a lot of standing water all around the beds in July. Nevertheless, I have had good crops of beetroot, chard, beans and carrots. My winter crops of swede, celeriac and parsnips are not looking too bad either. Fending off slugs and snails has been quite a challenge, even with a large frog living on the plot. She (I think it’s a ‘she’ because female frogs are larger than males) has been enjoying the cool water of my new pond lately, during the final sunny days of summer.

Wet Summer


The allotment is probably looking prettier than ever this year. My new flower bed is brimming with plants that are coming into flower, the roses are in full bloom and elsewhere the plot is green and lush, but I am wondering just how much vegetable produce I shall be harvesting this season. The summers when I have wondered what to do with a glut of tomatoes are now a distant memory and the soggy, humid conditions are perfect for blight to appear again this year.
Without the sunshine there has been a distinct absence of butterflies and, although I haven’t been missing the squawking cries of the parakeets, they have been uncharacteristically silent so far this summer. Keeping down the slug and snail population has been an ongoing battle and they have munched their way completely through a couple of young courgette and pumpkin plants.
Another creature that seems to favour the conditions is the chafer beetle which has been increasing in numbers at the allotment site over the past couple of years. Recently I discovered quite an astounding number crawling on the flowers of some parsnip plants left to go to seed on another plot. The ones I had seen in previous years were a magnificent emerald green all over, but these were even more colourful, with a reddish bronze area at the front of the abdomen.



At this time of year there is a nearby street I especially like to cycle down as it is lined with cherry trees laden with big bunches of pink blossom. But what I most look forward to is seeing a couple trees on the opposite side of the road where I live in full bloom. After three weeks, the petals are now floating about in the wind and beginning to lie in white drifts along the edges of the pavements. For this brief spell the spring blossom must be the most uplifting transformation to our urban landscape.
A couple of weeks ago, just as the flowers were reaching their full spectacle, tree surgeons came to lop off quite a number of branches. Whilst voicing my objections to the man in charge about the timing of the pruning, there lay a rapidly increasing pile of branches in front of the shredding machine, filled with beautiful white flowers and buds preparing to open. I was given a few minutes to collect some of the blossom for myself before it was fed into a machine, munched into a green mass and driven away.
Down on the allotment the buds on my apple tree are beginning to open and I have trailed some branches from a wild rose bush through the middle, which will keep producing white flowers for most of the summer.

Bumblebees in Winter


Back in January, whilst we were experiencing somewhat milder weather than usual for the time of year, I was working down at the allotment and heard a buzzing sound. I could hardly believe that a bumble bee would be out and about in the middle of winter, but there it was collecting pollen from the multitude of flowers on my two hellebore plants.
Only the queen bee survives the coldest months, usually in hibernation, but lately bees have been more commonly seen in winter, apparently due to the availability of pollen from winter flowering plants in people’s gardens rather than as a result of any changes in temperature.
For a few months my large windowsill (half a metre deep) was devoid of plants due to re-decoration works to the building taking place together with protracted negotiations over health and safety issues. So far, a pot or plant has not fallen off my windowsill, but following the instalment of wrought iron sill guards and insurance against damage from a falling pot, the plants are back there once again. These include the two hellebore plants that I hope the bumblebee at the allotment can do without until the spring flowers arrive. I have to say that the sill guards look very smart, but I am most happy to be looking out onto my window boxes and a bit of colour once again.

Christmas Rose


For the past two years the allotment has had a good covering of snow in the run up to Christmas. This year, even after a few hard frosts, I have been amazed to find that some of my stocks and scabious are still flowering and the plot is generally looking somewhat greener, and less brown and muddy than usual.
One plant that comes into its own in these darkest and coldest months of the year is the hellebore and a couple of Helleborus niger, that are growing in pots on the plot, have produced more clusters of their white flowers than in previous years. Being an alpine plant, which grows wild in the mountains at high altitudes, they are happy with the cold. Helleborus niger is also known as the Christmas Rose and a book that I have on the heritage of flowers tells the tale of a peasant girl who came to Bethlehem wishing to give flowers to the baby Jesus, but could find none, so an angel touched the snowy ground creating this beautiful flower.



After opening the cupboard in my shed the other day, I saw the two sunhats sitting there and realised that neither has been worn all summer. Apparently it has been the coldest summer since 1993 and I also spent quite of bit of time on my visits to the plot sheltering from heavy downpours.
All the same, it has been an excellent year for fruit and the apples on my seven year old Charles Ross tree have never before grown to be so plump and rosy. The three varieties of potatoes that I planted back in April have also done extremely well and I managed to dig up almost a whole barrowful a couple of weeks ago when I decided to lift the remaining plants.
This year there is no allotments prize-giving ceremony due to cutbacks in the borough, but I gained a few more points on the last time and received my Certificate of Excellence in the post together with the judge’s scores.
The compost was one area for improvement, perhaps partly due to it being so well hidden by a mass of nasturtiums and the expansive leaves of a pumpkin plant trailing over the top. Last week I re-painted the wooden compost bin and in it I have started to create what I call my ‘deluxe compost’ by adding layers of muck, kitchen waste and a bagful of seaweed which I brought down from Scotland in my car earlier in the summer. Next to it is a large pile of composting garden waste and manure that I shall leave undisturbed for a while as I found that a toad had made a home in it and will most likely remain there throughout the winter.

Frogs & Newts


One creature that I imagine might be taking some pleasure in this soggy July weather is the frog. I have met a couple on my plot recently; one was a large adult (that didn't mind having its picture taken) and the other a tiny little frog, which must have been only a couple of weeks old, clambering amongst some tall grass stems. Frogs are useful to have around the place as they can help to keep down the slug population, but my concern this year was that the frogspawn had been consumed by newts, which have appeared in greater numbers in the pond this season.
I can’t help being a little fascinated by newts, which are smaller and more delicate looking than I imagined them to be, although I have never seen a great crested newt. They are the largest of our native newt species and can grow to about 15cm long.
I am not too averse to the damp weather conditions myself, as it saves on watering, but I was enjoying working on the plot during the warm twilit evenings last month, when the place takes on a magical quality and other life forms begin to emerge from their daytime resting places.

Roses & currant bushes


Quite of lot of my gardening takes place on my windowsill at this time of year and it is now packed full of pots sitting behind the window boxes as I wait for the seedlings to become large enough to transplant.
All the roses are already blooming and I can now try to identify a bush which self-seeded last year and has produced a profusion of small, white flowers. I was expecting a dog rose with pale pink flowers, but the one that I have got has pretty white roses with heart-shaped petals and a gentle scent.
Earlier in the year I built a wooden frame around my currant bushes and one of my jobs over the weekend was to put a net over this before the fruit fully ripened. When I looked for the currants, which I had seen only the week before, I realised that I was already too late! Every single one had been eaten by birds, leaving only bare stems and absolutely no trace of the fruit at all.



At the start of the month I read a couple of newspaper articles on snowdrops which gave some insight into the nationwide activities of galanthophiles (snowdrop enthusiasts) at this time of year. I am not surprised by the popularity of these pretty and delicate little flowers, which seem to appear as if by magic from the cold ground as harbingers of a change in the season as we move towards spring.
On the allotment the snowdrops were flowering in time for Candlemas Day, a Christian festival on the 2nd February, from which they take their old English name of Candlemas Bells. This date is the midpoint of winter, halfway between the shortest day and the spring equinox later in March.
Another plant to brave the winter weather is the hellebore, with its beautifully subtle shades of flowers. I have two Helleborus Niger that are currently blooming magnificently in pots at either end of my windowsill.
On the allotment the roses have been pruned and I recently turned a large pile of composting manure which I will use to fill a new raised bed. I am more wary of removing the compost from a wooden bin containing kitchen and garden waste after seeing a nose and whiskers appear from a gap in the frame and suspect that a rat may have nested there for the winter.