Amongst certain friends I am known as Miss Google. My gCal is a multi-coloured work of art and I have a spreadsheet for almost every aspect of my life from finances to ‘what’s in the cupboard’. I’d love to say that it’s just because I am so incredibly organised, and perhaps that is part, but there is the other larger part that is my terrible memory. I wouldn’t get anything done without my Google aids.

In 2012 I started entering various garden jobs into the calendar as they came to light. They were set on repeat at their required frequency and email reminders set with appropriate advance timings to allow preparation time for certain tasks. In 2013, I am ready to take full advantage of the calendar. I can sit back, relax and do as I am told when I’m told (‘makes a change’ I can hear my mum say), with a degree of flexibility, of course.

Due to the garden facing north-east, technically, it’s not great for growing vegetables. We did ok last year, but this year I come armed with a heated propagator and a very kind family member who has a south-facing conservatory and extremely green fingers.

Veg beds are covered to allow the soil to warm before sowing

Manure has been dug into the beds and a top up of compost and top soil ordered. The lower vegetable bed, not receiving enough winter sun, is currently empty so this has been covered with black plastic to encourage the warming of the soil underneath.

The Daffodils are the first to brave the cold

Preparation is not just something that we do at the start if the growing year. The garden is currently beginning to show signs from the Spring prep done late last year. Bulbs are sprouting up here there and everywhere, including Daffodils, who are the first to brave their delicate colourful blooms in these low temperatures.

Poppies have been slowly growing over winter

Wild Poppy seeds that were collected last year have sprouted fantastically in the greenhouse and are desperately begging to be thinned. Sadly, the same can not be said for the Sage cuttings taken last year. Having a lack of things to do and my ‘wrapping in cotton wool’ approach, I greatly overwatered the young cuttings and they quickly yellowed and died. A second batch of cuttings were taken early January in a final bid of cuttings success. Don’t worry, the watering can has been hidden.

2013 Garden Plan

When it rained, which seemed to happen a lot over the past few weeks, I kept myself busy by drawing up a garden plan, see here for a larger image. As you can see the beds will be fairly full with various things and not a lot of anything. We are still testing out to see what is right for us and what grows well together. I drew up a 2012 garden plan but unfortunately it didn’t quite go to plan due to the disgusting weather, so fingers crossed that this year the seedlings will get off to a better start in the heated propagator and be able to withstand anything mother nature throws at them once they are outdoors. I am most looking forward to watching the bright yellow nobbly fruits of the Summer Crookneck Squash grow. Member’s of the squash family are always such little effort with such high rewards. Perfect gardener’s friend.

Late February Jobs

Sow Direct
– Mizuna
– Mustard Greens
– Radish
– Broad Beans 

Sow Indoor
– Chilli Pepper (25–30C). Germination 7–24 days. Sow until end of March.
– Sweet Marjoram (16–18C). Germination 14–21 days. Sow indoors until end of March, then continue with direct sowings.
– Sweet Pea (14–17C). Sow seeds one per cardboard tube until end of April. Stand tubes on a layer of compost to keep tubes moist. Keep tubes moist so roots will grow through.

Garden Jobs
– Dig in 10cm of compost over summer planting areas.
– Check the pH level of your soil to see what will and won’t grow well. Most vegetables are happy around 6.5.
– Chit first early potatoes.
– Check old seeds for viability; moisten several sheets of kitchen towel and scatter on some seeds. Cover with clingfilm and place in a warm environment. If most seeds germinate then you are safe to sow.
– Warm soil for early sowings by covering with cloches or plastic sheeting.
– If you haven’t started a garden plan, get sketching. Do bear in mind in each plant’s requirements especially sun and spacing.
– Place an order for seeds if you haven’t already.
– Keep an eye out for nettle patches if you want to make some nettle wine (recipe coming up in March).

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

A Robin perching in the Elder watching as I dig over the vegetable beds adding chicken manure

Emerging from the innocence of the initial years, I became a very shy child. I would dread school plays and concerts, but being one of those ‘extra-curricula children’ I often found myself with some sort of nominal part. It usually fell to me to assume challenging characters, such as ‘chorus member’ or the particularly formidable task of ‘crowd member’, but never was all attention on me. Not until the day my teacher decided ‘to bring me out my shell’.

A Wood Pigeon sees what he can find

The memory of stepping out from the huddled group of shaking children to clearly pronounce ‘just three little words’ directly after ‘Feed the Birds’ in the school’s production of Mary Poppins will haunt me forever. Needless to say, I am surprised that I was not put off birds for life. In fact, quite the contrary occurred, and a love for our winged cousins slowly developed. It is such a joy when visiting parents – those people with ‘real’ gardens – to watch the various birds bicker over the sunflower hearts.

Snowprints

Our garden however has no bickering. We have a sole, camera-shy Great Tit who comes and goes as he/she pleases. Our Great Tit heads on over for breakfast every day, flying to and from the sunflower seed feeder and pecking open the seed whilst perching in the now bare Elder tree.

Cold and wet paws do not appeal to Bean

Around the time of the recent snowfall, I spotted: a puffed up Robin, a male Blackbird and a Wood Pigeon hopping around, as well as the Great Tit who continued busily flitting to and fro in the snow. It made outdoors look so inviting. But even with all the snow’s pure beauty, no part of me wanted to venture out in to the whiteness. So instead I settled into the warm couch with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and our young cat for company. It seemed that she wasn’t so fussed on traipsing through the snow either.

Snow covered bulbs were moved into the greenhouse for shelter

But it dawned on me whilst snug on the couch, that these new birds in the garden are ground feeders, so how were they feeding with a blanket of four-inches of snow between them and the ground?

One for the birds

Whilst putting out some food on plates, including chopped nuts and apples, I was reminded of Amanda’s recipe at Wit and Whistle. A gourmet treat for birds – a ‘suet’ cake packed with lard, peanut butter, oats and breadcrumbs amongst other ingredients. As well as being a fitting present for my ever-inspiring Grandad who enjoys watching the birds whilst he eats his breakfast, I thought it might be a good time to test one out in our garden too. Unfortunately, the snow had melted by the time they were made, but one is hung up amongst the branches of the Elder tree calling out to local birds to come and have their fill.

A winter-proofed garden

I made a few adjustments to Amanda’s recipe with things I had in the cupboard, including the English conversions, which you can find below.

200g lard
200g peanut butter (I used crunchy but I’m sure it doesn’t matter)
500g cornmeal (polenta)
130g whole wheat flour
45g rolled oats
45g bread crumbs
100g peanut pieces
100g dried fruit pieces

(You have wiggle room on the ingredients and amounts. Birds aren’t picky!)

1. Line an 8×10 baking sheet with greaseproof paper and set aside.
2. Melt the lard in a saucepan over low heat. In the meantime crush or chop your peanuts (I made a fair mess here).
3. Once the lard has completely melted, stir in the peanut butter until smooth. Then mix in the flour and cornmeal and remove from heat.
4. Stir in the rolled oats, bread crumbs and peanuts. Pour the mixture into the lined baking sheet and smooth the surface. Pop in to the refrigerator to set.
5. When the cake has solidified cut into quarters and wrap each piece in wax paper. Store in the refrigerator or freezer until you are ready to pop them in your suet feeder

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

Leeks grown in Cambridgeshire

The start of a new year often brings the beginnings of many other things; eat less chocolate; drink less booze; eat that pesky five-a-day. Amongst my lengthy new year’s checklist is a decision to alter my shopping habits. I hope to buy seasonally available produce from UK farmers rather than beans from Egypt or blackberries from Guatemala. It’s not about totally removing what one wants to eat, but rather replacing with UK-grown alternatives. This morning in a central London supermarket, there were sweetheart cabbages transported on HGV’s from Spain but plenty of spring greens or savoy cabbages that were grown in Lincolnshire.

This way of shopping has many advantages to one’s purse and tastebuds. Produce reaches local shops fresher out the ground and therefore far tastier than when hauled in from abroad as well as being at its cheapest due to having no air/sea-fare. It also gives our UK farmers a helping boost in sales whilst our economy is not so great.

In the recent past, I have tried to do this as often as possible, and indeed new(ish) packaging that includes the product’s country of origin has made this far easier. However, I am unfortunately someone who needs to plan ahead of any shopping trips as I (regularly) fail to make a delicious meal without a recipe to hand.

To aid my commitment to this new year task and to hopefully encourage others, I have designed a calendar where each month lists the seasonally available produce for the UK (subject to weather of course). There are vegetables, fish, meat, fruit, herbs, flowers, fungi and nuts plus some foragable delights that can be found in hedgerows and UK stores for each month, whilst also highlighting those which are at their peak.

UK Seasonal Produce Calendar: January. Available from info@prideinproper.co.uk

Download the January calendar here and enjoy the fresh and tasty crops of our land. Or please contact Pride in Proper at info@prideinproper.co.uk for the option to purchase a full calendar.

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

Camberwell's Autumn in my hand

Rich merlot, vibrant lime, warm ochre, plush violet, fiery russet and dazzling gold – never before have I noticed autumn colour so vividly.

The wild cyclamen graceum nestles into the undergrowth in Ruskin park

From the greengrocer’s plump pumpkins and sumptious figs, to the surprise pops of cyclamens and zesty berries on pyracantha bushes, my eyes are darting from place to place, absorbing these comforting colours, helping me forget the grey skies and bitter winds that persuade the fallen leaves to dance.

The Garlic stands tall and proud whilst the delicate Spinach seedings lean towards the low autumn sun

Our own outdoors here in Central London is also providing small treats for our eyes. The vibrant red stems of the swiss chard erupt from the dark moist soil below. The peeping garlic shows vigour, whilst the spinach and salad seedlings provide a sparkle of lushious green across an otherwise empty bed.

Some bulbs jump the gun whilst the strawberry runners are looking strong and ready to be parted from their parents

Some of the various bulbs recently planted have burst through worryingly early but are looking robust, so there is still hope that they will make it through to Spring which couldn’t be further away. In the window boxes behind, the silver ragwort glitters in the low morning light whilst sitting amongst their root systems, bulbs prepare to grow.

The purple stems of the sage cuttings provide a flash of colour in an otherwise 'green house'

The purple stems of the sage cuttings are providing interest in the greenhouse whilst indoors, the tomatoes that didn’t ripen in the greenhouse are quickly turning a delectable red.

A quick walk around the neighbourhood offers a host of colours including the lilac berries of the calicarpa dodinierii profusion, a few golden petals of the last remaining echinaceas and the dark purple leaves of the cherry plum trees collecting around my feet.

Even one of Ruskin Park's grey squirrels can't resist a flash of brown this autumn

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

How better to enjoy the garden than sharing a bowl of home grown produce in the sunshine

Bank holiday weekends are synonymous with bizarre weather – this August followed suit. Friday evening treated us to a torrential downpour, Saturday was shower day whereas Sunday, today, had treated us with glorious sunshine since dawn.With rain due tomorrow, there was plenty to get done around the garden. Cuttings of Mediterranean herbs had been potted up in hope they will root for new strong plants next year. Now it was only the boring jobs left to do.

Before tackling the ground elder that had begun to take over the path, the armies of aphids on the runner beans and the powdery mildew suffocating the peas – a lunch (with a glass of white) was required. The lunch surpassed requirements.

I was treated to a scrumptious and healthy lunch made from the fruits of the four runner beans plants that are finally producing a steady and tasty harvest.

Runner beans in herbed oil

Runner beans in herbed oil

Serves 2 | 30 minutes

Ingredients
Two big handfuls of runner beans
One clove of garlic
Four tablespoons of olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Small handful of parsley
Small handful of dill
Four tablespoons of vegetable stock
Pitta bread, fresh bread or pasta

Finely chop the garlic clove and gently fry in the olive oil. Roughly and quickly chop the runner beans into 2cm pieces and throw them in with the garlic, adding a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Finely chop the parsley and dill and add to the pan with the stock. Cover with a lid and cook gently for 20 minutes. Season to taste and serve with bread or stir through pasta.

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

A male courgette flower stretches open under the strong sun

Every year, around 45 million Brits choose to travel abroad for a blast of sunshine on to our pasty skin.

As a child, which wasn’t that long ago (or so I keep telling myself), I remember the summers being long, hot and drawn out affairs. Full of water fights, gallons of ice cream and incessant pleadings for the big blue paddling pool to be hauled out from the shed, we would stop at nothing (sorry mum!) to drop those scorching temperatures.

Peas fatten up in their pods

Those memories will always define my meaning of summer. The summers of the past few years have missed the mark by far. Irregular weather has ruined picnics, cancelled plans and made our nation flee to more predictable climates.

Part and parcel of irregular weather include mini ‘heat-waves’, one of which we are currently experiencing. The British can never be accused of wasting the rare summer sun – legs as white as new leeks are unveiled on a patchwork of summer blankets in parks whilst the pavements are heaving with sweaty afternoon drinkers. In the kitchen, fresh vegetables are no longer dunked into steamy broths but served crunchy in huge piles to be eaten immediately in the garden or any space with a sliver of sunlight.

Sunlight breaks through the cracks in the Rhubarb's leaves

After the first week of summer since starting to grow vegetables, I was pleasantly surprised to see a courgette double in size during one blue sky day. Pea pods have exploded out from the shoots which are still climbing strongly towards the sunshine. The beans have begun to produce their delicate flowers whilst the courgette’s leaves have grown to mammoth sizes and still standing proud where as the rhubarb wilts daily from dehydration.

Due to the high temperatures and my inability to rise early, watering has become an evening duty. Thankfully the copper tape that has been placed around the beds and pots gives the midnight slugs no other option than to search elsewhere for their delights.

In the greenhouse, pots of seedlings are turned regularly to ensure straight stems as they lean towards the passing sun

Whilst slugs are kept at bay by copper and the throbbing sun, the weeds are gladly soaking up the rays and growing furiously, taking vital nutrients away from our plants. As we want to keep the garden chemical-free, weeding has become a weekly job. But a job such as this paired with a glass of beer and the big blue sky is certainly no chore.

Between the basking fox cub and our plants hurtling skywards at ferocious speeds, it appears we are not on our own when searching for a piece of the sunshine this summer.

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

territoriality — (n)
the behaviour shown by an animal when establishing and defending its territory

A bird dangles from the vixen's jaws as she decides whether it is safe to continue now that she has been seen

Territoriality is only shown by a minority of species. Territories only exist within a boundary that can be defended without too much exertion from the guarding animal. These animals rely on various threats; auditorial, olfactory and visual displays. The persistent drumming of a woodpecker, a rabbit’s droppings around the entrance of it’s warren, the puffed up red breast of a robin, a bear’s deep claw marks high up a tree trunk and the unforgettable howl of a wolf are all territorial markings. Us humans on the other hand, we build physical barriers and place visual warnings (beware of the dog) to mark our defended territories, but these actions only keep other humans away.

Many gardeners will know that the introduction of motion sensor squirters and lion dung only work for a certain time before the invader realises it will come to no harm. So in the beastly war against the neighbouring foxes (see previous post Ferocious Mr Fox), we eventually became animals ourselves. We banged on windows, hurled stones, hissed, growled and locked glares, but the tired vixen had five hungry cubs to feed so she risked entering our territory again and again.

A healthy cub dozes in the sunshine

In a final bid to discourage the vixen from our humble garden, late one evening, when all natural light had faded, the man in our pack stood in the bathroom, urinating into a pink watering can. Then, creeping around the still garden, he showered his scent over perimeter locations in a bid to warn off the valiant vixen. It did not work. Soon enough the cubs next door were agile enough to clamber on to the dividing wall. At that point we knew it would not be long before they were brave enough to jump down into our garden.

One sunny Saturday morning, a cub was dozing on the sun-filled decking. It looked so peaceful, we did not have the heart to disturb. The foxes had won the war. We gave up our defences and prepared ourselves for turned over vegetable beds and continued midnight screeches.

Too adorable to move

However, no sooner than we had waved the white flag, the foxes disappeared and haven’t been seen since. Was it all a fun game to them or had we just got carried away exerting ourselves in our first animalistic territorial war?

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

The weather has been a hot topic for Britain recently. A large portion of the UK was slapped with a hose pipe ban in April. Two days later we received daily lashings of rain and thunder storms for a good two weeks, and it was getting rather tedious.

The Aquilegias have brought the bees to our garden (despite the rain) and they are pollinating left, right and centre which is great news for us gardeners

The regular drowning of our land, has however given way to one of the lushest Springs in recent years. Grass is looking plush and inviting, trees are vivid green and providing welcomed shade for plants and people resting below. Weeds are sprouting up faster than you can yank then out and our reservoirs are slowly filling up. In typical British fashion, we are getting very wet indeed.

The strawberries are producing fruit which is lapping up the regular rainfall but with low levels of sun, we are worried they won't ripen and instead, start to rot

We sowed the majority of our vegetable seeds just after the hot spell in early Spring and they all quickly poked their heads out from underground and grew to around 6cm in height. Then came the torrential rain and dull grey skies, the plants then, like a lot of the country, went on strike.

The peas are now happily climbing up their netting, whilst the spinach waits for some welcome shade. The rhubarb and potatoes (right) are sprouting courageously

Finally though, the seasons have accelerated and threw us in to Summer as the sun valiantly stepped in beating down hard, much to the plant’s and people’s delight alike. The vegetables, especially the peas, are shooting up (no pun intended). The tomatoes in the greenhouse are rejoicing in the raised temperatures and spurting upward so rapidly that we can’t keep up with their re-potting. The potatoes have shot up through the top of the potato bag and we can’t buy compost fast enough to cover them with. The salads have all shot to seed and need regular picking to discourage such behaviour.

The courgettes have grown so rapidly we quickly need to choose the strongest. Whilst the newly sown runner beans sprout with vigour

The occasional shower and cool evening temperatures still give way for plenty of slug attacks, and our parsley seedlings have been demolished to their stems and the rhubarb leaves look crocheted. The wildflower seeds next to the compost bin have been disrupted too many times by furry four legged critters to germinate and have since been replaced with Iris bulbs and some Verbenas. The spring onions have only two skinny brave soldiers battling these rapid fluctuations in our weather.

In the greenhouse, the tomatoes are growing strong, whilst two chili seedlings were an evening snack for a passing snail

Listening to others discuss their gardening woes of weeds, pests and bald patches, drills home that come rain or shine the battle is never over. Frost is replaced by drought; the sun will never deter a hungry slug and your vegetables will never grow quickly enough for your greedy stomach.

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

Organic. The word conjures up so much more thoughts these days than just food grown without the use of chemical based fertilisers and pesticides, it speaks of a way of life. We pay a premium for an organic product so that we know that no chemicals have been applied – god forbid little Timmy consumes those dreadful things! Religious organic food consumers swear that the produce not only tastes better than its chemically sprayed alternative, but that it is also of superior quality. We’ve never bought into the organic lifestyle, dabbled here and there but have usually ended up disappointed and feeling out of pocket.

However, now that we are growing our own produce rather than paying supermarket premiums, it’s time to ask the question; do we go organic?

A bumblebee visiting the Toadflax last year

This quandary partly came about after hearing a small news article on BBC Radio 4 about pesticides affecting the Bumblebees navigational systems and colony growth. With bees being a gardener’s friend and already in trouble, we should naturally make a concerted effort to reduce this threat to our bees. In our garden, we have sown a patch of wild flower seeds to help and attract bees and are also looking forward to seeing them bumble over the purple toadflax (Linaria purpurea) as they did last year.

In many gardens, and especially in large scale agriculture, chemicals are used in abundance. They are present in more places than we may realise; wood preserver, weed killer, pesticides, plant feed, fungicides, herbicides and fertilisers.

As I was informed recently, after discussing this post with a more educated friend:

‘Chemicals (in themselves) are not ‘bad’, as organic fertilisers contain chemicals – just that they are natural chemicals – nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, copper, zinc, cadmium, etc. However, where chemicals could be construed as ‘bad’ are in the pesticide, fungicide and herbicide areas. All of these chemicals (many of them organic chemicals (ie with carbon in their make-up)) are poisons of some sort or other. These are often persistent and remain in the soil, and are then taken up into the plants and enter roots (eg carrots), leaves (eg cabbages) and fruits (eg apples) from whence they enter people as they eat this produce. Many of these chemicals have been banned (after long usage) once it is found that they adversely affect people and can cause cancer, brain deterioration, impotency, heart disease and can even cause or lead to mutation of gametes thereby leading to such foetus and child afflictions as spina bifida, cleft palette, etc.’

Hence, little Timmy.

Nine bags of organic compost were added to the tonne of soil

In our small space we are being as friendly to the environment where possible and affordable. The compost applied was organic, but who knows how many chemicals were in the donated tonne of soil that the compost was added to. Some of the seeds sown were organic, most were not. The wood of the beds was not preserved in any way, but one bed was lined with a membrane to stop the Elder roots entering the bed. A water butt was installed, collecting water from the roof. We have used recycled materials rather than buying new when suited. We have a compost bin for garden and kitchen waste to provide us with the perfect garden mulch.

As we are not selling our produce, we do not need to certify our Swiss Chard as heavenly organic, but, how far do we go in removing the use of ‘bad’ chemicals? In terms of protecting our plants, the previous post listed our garden enemies and how we have kept them at bay. But as well as protecting, our plants need helping.

One of many patches of nettles bordering our nearest community park

As ever, nature provides an answer for everything – few herbs are more generous than the humble nettle. Over recent years, foraging has become trendy. Most cookery programmes feature it and there are shelves of recipe books based on it. Foraged nettles are used in various recipes from nettle soup and nettle pasta to nettle tarte tatin – the uses of nettles in food go on and on. We, however, are feeding nettles to our plants, rather than to our tums.

Plants mostly gain their necessary sustenance (nitrogen (N), phosphorus (P), and potassium or potash (K)) from the soil, but these nutrients deplete over time, which is why we regularly dig in manure. Nettles are extremely rich in nitrogen, as most dark, green and leafy plants are. The fertiliser made from nettles is therefore rich with nitrogen. Many plants, especially dark, green and leafy plants, thrive on high amounts of nitrogen, where some require far less, such as flowering or fruiting plants. This is because nitrogen encourages leafy growth, where as phosphorus encourages root and bud development and potassium promotes fruit and flower production.

Nettle brew

To get our nettles, a quick whip around of our nearest community garden gave us three carrier bags full of nettles, so we marched home with gloved hands and just two stings. We used garden gloves when picking the nettles, however, it is said that grabbing the nettle with care and determination and avoiding accidental brushing, can eliminate stinging.

Nettles under one and a half breeze blocks

Making plant feed from nettles couldn’t be easier. Collect the young stems of nettles and scrunch to bruise the leaves. Stuff these into a watertight container and place a heavy weight on top (we used one and a half breeze blocks). Then fill the container with water, to just cover the nettles and leave in a minimally used area, as it causes quite a stink. After three to four weeks the feed should be ready to use. Dilute to use, around one-part feed to ten-parts water and water liberally on or around plants (keeping in mind the plant’s NPK requirements). You can keep the container topped up throughout the year and once Autumn arrives chuck whatever is left on to your compost heap. You can also replace the nettles with Comfrey.

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature

Now the plants have been enticed out to bask and grow in the sunshine this has brought a barrage of pests to our land. Within two weeks, the garden has gone from brown and resting to green and fighting. Every plant and creature is fighting for its life on nature’s battlefield.

The battlefield

The Elder’s bright green shoots are turning black from a camp made up of hundreds of thousands of aphids with only a scattering of Marmalade Hoverfly (Episyrphus balteatus) larvae forcing their way through slowly. Anything green and within a metre from the ground has Swiss cheese leaves from the armies of slugs that bide their time until nightfall, in the dark and damp terrain under the decking. In the borders, the wild garlic and a recently sown patch of wild flowers has become a recreational ground for cats and foxes. Even the resilient and generous strawberry plants which are fighting to flower have found themselves with a traitor lurking within their grounds, that of a ruby tiger (Phragmatobia fuliginosa) caterpillar. It appears our garden has become a battle field. Our defenses have been down as we excitedly made new ground and we have now had to retreat. However, we do have a few tricks up our green sleeves.

New shoots on the Elder engulfed by Aphids

With the larvae outnumbered and a hosepipe ban placed across the South East of England, we have turned to the classic soapy water spray: 10ml of Ecover washing-up liquid/two tablespoons in one litre of warm water. With regular spraying we are hoping this will eventually wipe out the aphids or at the very least reduce their numbers. As a long term solution to reducing aphids we are going to plant mint, fennel, dill and yarrow to attract aphid eating insects to the garden such as ladybirds (Coccinella septempunctata) who can eat over 5000 aphids (or other soft body insects) during their lifetime of about a year.

Slugs had a feast munching on this delicate tulip

The slugs have been waging war since August and have relished the delights we have introduced into ‘their turf’. They have claimed our winter lettuces, destroyed our kohl rabi and this year have devoured the delicate coriander right down to its stalks. With the addition of a small greenhouse on the decking, we have offered them a free all-you-can-eat Michelin star restaurant, right on their doorstep. After reading last year that slugs and snails don’t like sliming their way across dry sharp surfaces, we stored away the pine needles from our Christmas tree and have been patiently waiting for a use for them, because if they get wet they don’t work. Now, when you enter the greenhouse, not only does it smell like Christmas, there is not a silver trail in sight and our seedlings are able to grow strong in safety.

Old trunks are wedged against the perimeters to discourage digging

The larger of the warriors give cause for a larger defence than pine needles. Trunks, twigs and window panes have come to our aid by barricading the perimeters of our land to cats and foxes and providing a fortress over seeds and recently raked soil. Regular watering of this ground has also discouraged these pests to stay away.

Twigs and Window panes protect seeds from digging paws

Ruby Tiger caterpillar heading for shelter

Our Own Outdoors
Our Own Outdoors - Documenting our trials and tribulations about living alongside nature