Hello, did everything in this part of the garden get up and leave?
This part of the garden is my favourite – I built it after I made the other four raised beds, and just layered up vege scraps, grass clippings, dead leaves, seaweed and coffee husks on the sand – someone had made a garden in this bit before so the sand looked a bit richer than most other parts of the garden. The pallets protect things from the southerly, and those broad beans are the happiest in the garden. But the black plastic garden is looking a bit dreary and I want to rip out the plastic and start again – hence these Brussels sprouts, cavolo nero and rainbow chard refugees. And the artichoke, who has been asking for a home for several months now.
But one thing went right in that black plastic desert – this cauliflower was pretty happy! She’ll be dinner this week. I left a broccoli plant next to her to hold her up, and a good thing too, given all the wind we’ve been having lately. Lots of power cuts on Friday built up Rata’s vocabulary some more (“Powers off!”) and broke a lot of brassica leaves.
Brussels sprouts for Louis tea this week too! I picked some a week or two ago and Rata snaffled the lot – raw! I can’t stand them myself, but I did eat one raw the other day and they’re much nicer. In that they don’t taste like Brussels sprouts. These are growing in a raised bed that is not lined, so the compost and topsoil is sitting directly on the sand. And the direct comparison between this bed and the lined one is what compelled me to rip the lining out. Things are flourishing, fruiting, doing all the things they should be while their exact twins sat across the path doing little.
Meanwhile, I take it all back about the red Brussels sprouts – they are not secretly cabbages. Something is finally happening. I’m hoping that moving the ones in the other bed will inspire some panicked fruiting.
This bed also has black plastic lining it, but my garlic is there so I don’t really want to disturb it. Every bulb took, which makes for a very tidy little patch. I’m hoping to plant some more elsewhere, you know, so I can compare how it went in different beds but time is running out.
A winter garden doesn’t have much wow factor, which is probably why seed catalogues are sent out to woo bored gardening eyes with all colours of tomato and chilli. I have been well and truly smitten with several varieties of each, while having to remind myself that we may have to move in January and miss eating the lot! I haven’t grown tomatoes for the last three years for that very reason, but this year I have dastardly plans to tempt fate, plant heaps and throw caution to the wind. And it would only be our landlords moving in anyway, I’m sure they’d be happy to share… right?