The Good Life - Seeds and weeds

 A view of the raised beds over our shrubs, watering cans, tubs and general junk which awaits a permanent home

There is a saying "Only God can make trees, but I am in charge of seeds and weeds". The weekend arrived and my chores were allocated rapidly by Corinne. She has consulted the lunar calender and announced we must plant legumes by close of business on Friday. Dutifully, and under her close supervision, I have planted seeds for our annual crop of cornichons, patissons, pumpkins, dwarf yellow beans and borlotti beans (all labeled in French which is to be expected). As it has been raining I am instructed the weeds will be gathering strength and I am to pick them from the beds as they appear. We have already plucked and cleared the soil of the deep rooted dandilions which in earlier times and in her native Franche Comte would have been forced, not unlike rhubarb, and harvested for a salad. The French have the following expression for the tenacity and depth of these roots "Manger les pissenlits par la racine" or "eating the dandelion by the roots" which roughly equates to the English expression of "pushing up daisies" implying death being a common denominator.

Enough about death and weeds. After five weeks the transplanting appears to have been successful, and the majority of the plants which have been moved over from the old allotment have survived, and some are flourishing. The rhubarb, chard and chives have all settled in well and buds on the currant bushes have also betrayed signs of life. For some reason my gooseberry bushes, which I am convinced are barren, continue to disappoint me by pretending to be dead. I know they will eventually sprout their distinctive leaves and ultimately disappoint me once again. It is their last chance to turn over a new leaf, or else they will be replaced by red currants!

Over the past few nights when our evening meal had been cleared away, Corrine set out seed trays on the table and we rummaged through the seed bag for seeds that could be sewn under the auspices of the lunar calender. On Saturday evening we sewed more dwarf yellow beans, courgettes and borlotti beans. My thoughts of last years dwarf yellow crop quickly wandered to the massive slug migration that took place towards these plants and the consequent devastation. I asked Corinne if she had considered slug countermeasures this year, and she immediately suggested we use trays of beer. This is a classic technique for luring Irish slugs to their doom. However, I did inquire about the whereabouts of my Christmas present to her; the romantic first edition of "50 facons d'assassier les limaces" by Sarah Ford ("50 ways to kill slugs").  I was informed the book was unfortunately on a short term loan to a French friend and would not be available for consultation.

 Planting the onions in drills

 
Sunday was spent digging dung into the soil and enriching the raised beds; raking them and removing a vast quantity of stones. Following the hard work, we set about planting garlic, onions and shallots in neat shallow drills. Taking advantage of the warm sunny weather and imminent rainfall, Corinne also sewed salisify, beetroot, carrots, parsnips, tarragon and radish. A fleece cloth was staked down over the beds to protect the freshly sewn crop from any frost that may rest upon the ground. The long cold Winter may have just ended but the fingers of Jack Frost still caress the land most nights and may damage seedlings if they lie unprotected. For the next five days I must retreat to my indoor life and existence, with my bright red face, and be somewhat diligent working at my desk, occasionally imagining the growth and developments in the allotment.

The Good Life - No pain no gain!

 Fourth weekend of work on the new allotment - some progress visible!

The day finally came where we had to say good bye to the patch of ground which we toiled over, and planted with great energy and vigor in the past few years. The allotment, or "Venice" as I used to call it had its faults, mainly at high tide and when it rained, however we worked hard to enrich the ground and managed to get cultivate a reasonable production between the months of March and December. In fact we left Jerusalem artichokes in the ground and were digging them up as recently as two weeks ago.

As we closed the gate on the old allotment Fingal County Council allocated us another plot, and for the last three weeks we have been labouring away turning the soil with a fork and spade. My mind constantly wandered to the hard life of a medieval farmer who might have tilled his fields by hand. Thankfully my efforts at digging were further improved by our neighbour John, who rotivated the ground following the digging.

The rhubarb has survived and is leaping out of the ground

Corinne had a limited amount of time to target and rescue a number of plants for transplanting into the new allotment. The first task was to transplant the rhubarb; now over 2 years old the root system was prolific and it took us in excess of an hour to release its grip on the ground. The artichokes also made the cut and also had surprisingly large root systems. The rhubarb immediately found a home, and a large bucket was placed over it to begin forcing the growth. Last weekend while doing the shopping I saw some magnificent pale forced rhubarb from Holland and can only hope our transplanting has not shocked the root systems.

I escaped for an hour this morning to tap two silver birch trees and collect their sap. For a few weeks in March the silver birch [betula pendula] draws up a fructose rich sap into the trunk of the tree, being the nourishment required to kick start the Spring growth and the budding of the new leaves on the branches. A hole is drilled approximately 30mm deep into the trunk of the tree, about 1.5 meters above the ground. The sap will start to flow immediately and you can insert a metal tube with hose attached to collect the sap in a container. It can be used to make a wine or reduced to make a syrup. The syrup is not so easy to produce because you would need over 100 liters of sap to produce one liter of syrup.

There are quite a variety of recipes on the internet for making birch sap wine. Some use modern wine making technology employing various tablets and concentrates. I find the whole topic of country winemaking quite intriguing, since my first foray with elderflower cordial, which fermented rapidly and is now an accidental sparkling wine (success at last). The subject requires further reading to avoid mishaps and exploding jars, so I have decided to educate myself with Mary Aylett's "Country Winemaking", 1953 (now out of print but thankfully available on www.allibris.com ). For this experiment I have decided to steer clear of the complication of syrups and campden tablets, and prefer a rather simple recipe I have found on the river cottage website. This will produce a relatively clear dry wine I believe without the added flavours of apple or grape. More on this topic to follow.

As the raised beds have been prepared, we have gradually planted the sorrel, thyme, spinach and chard. Adjacent to this bed we have set down our "berry garden" (always wanted one of these!); gooseberries, raspberries, white currants, red currants and black currants form the backbone of this vital part of our Summer production liberally fed with a healthy layer of potash and horse shit(e).

We have a break mid week for Saint Patrick's day and we might get a few more hours work in on the allotment in advance of the anticipated long hours of hard labour at the weekend. Today the wind has moved into the south west for the first time in nearly two months, and while the temperatures have picked up and spring noticeably advances, I believe we may have some rainfall in the next few days. When the weekend arrives it will be interesting to observe how this allotment stands up to a spell of persistent rain.

 Hopefully it will taste as good as it looks