tales from a pigsty

I have a huge pile of branches that I pruned off the elders and plum trees. It resembles a bonfire but will never be one because of the no-bonfire-rule here. It is in fact kinder to the environment to season it for the wood stove next winter anyway, so I am preparing a place to store it. There is a wonderful redundant pigsty on my plot. I have already, with the help of my husband, cleared out the far end of it as a receptacle for farmyard manure, which I’m hoping the local farmer will deliver into it. The original door end of the pigsty, I am finding, was used for dumping stone and rubbish over the years. The stone is what we need at present, so that’s good and the rubbish is excellent material for the imagination. I do wonder how much we have been conditioned by literature and the media. Would I, pre- Agatha Christie and ‘Z-cars’, on discovering a bottle containing a clear liquid, immediately have thought that it could have contained poison and been hidden there after a terrible crime being committed by its owner?

reawakening

It’s not even February and things are starting to wake up already. Suddenly things feel to be alive and emerging from dormancy. It’s hard to describe quite why since there aren’t many actual changes, it’s just a general feeling. I imagine all the rain we’ve been having is a contributing factor but the temperatures have been higher than they usually are at this time of year. I wonder what will happen when we have the inevitable (I assume!) snow and ice in February and March.

I’ve been making the compost heap out of kitchen vegetable waste, green allotment waste and activator that I have accumulated since before Christmas. It’s a job that’s easier to do in warmer weather so I thought I’d grab the opportunity, besides the soil is too clarty (not sure if I’ve invented this word?!) for digging today.

I’ve been looking at the central path and I’ve realised that it curves along the top of the ridge about half way down the allotment. This explains why I always seem to be confused when I try to work with plans that I’ve drawn up. Back to the drawing board…

winter toadland

Wall-building day, following several days of very heavy rain so slip-sliding conditions under foot. A mutual friend joined us for coffee, lunch and conversation.

I investigated a lumpy bit of ground under the blackcurrant and honeysuckle in my wild area. Under the moss there was old lino and under that was a pile of stone for wall building. I began to move these stones over to where we are repairing the wall but stopped when I was surprised by one of the stones moving. It was of course a toad which sloped off further into the remaining pile of stones, I threw on some moss and have decided to leave well alone until spring.

stone reclamation

The gap in my blogging rather than meaning I haven’t been here indicates instead that I have been absorbed in what I’m doing here.

I have continued to dig for my broad bean bed but this is difficult when it is wet as I’ve discovered the lower section takes longer to drain and the soil stays wet and sticky. Also, the need for more stone for wall-building has led me to recover stone from around the plot, principally alongside the wall. This is an area that every summer becomes impassable because of brambles, nettles and willowherb. In searching for stone I have been digging out these roots and in the process revealing a considerable area containing wonderfully rich soil. I am thinking of planting my peas and lettuce along here as they will have some shade from the wall during the full heat of summer days. What I must definitely avoid is perennial anything as the roots of these are what has caused my wall to fall down, we think. Nasturtiums may be a good option.

One of my allotment neighbours came up with a good plan yesterday when I discovered my very weathered beanpoles under last years’ overgrowth. I had tried to bring them into my shed for protection but they are longer than it. He suggested hanging them from hooks onto the back of my shed. This was the first thing I did this morning.

As I suspected, when I decided to pause in my digging to take photos, the rain has now begun. I will persevere and hope it is blown over by the wind that arrived with it.

the story unfolds

Awoke to snow falling and thought the ground would be too hard to dig today but arrived to find it perfect for digging, not too wet or dry and not frozen.

My 21-year-old fledgling arrived safely in Finland last night to
-7degC and snow underfoot and this is just the start of the Finnish winter, it could go as cold as -30!

I’m sitting in my shed today and am looking at a selection of images of me, some holding birds closely to my chest and others resting my head on my arms, one curled up asleep and another whispering secrets to a friend. These are redundant etching plates, the editions complete, the work of a friend in St.Ives. When we lived there she and I exchanged my modelling for tuition in and use of her printmaking studio. When I visited her just before Christmas she was wondering how to recycle this plate metal and I asked if I could have it for my allotment to be used in some way, probably practically, to edge a path or something. She said it would weather well, particularly the copper. Now the plates are in my shed I realise how appropriate these images are for my situation here expressing relaxation, contemplation, oneness with nature and last but not by any means least the sharing of confidences, hopes, dreams and the becoming of shared stories.

another little bird in flight

Arrived here about 2.45 for the last bit of daylight after delivering our middle daughter to Manchester airport destined for 5 months in Finland. I needed to be here to get myself grounded after an emotional ‘au revoir’.

The Met office is forcasting sub-zero temperatures soon so I’m digging urgently. I have begun to define the top edge of my broad bean beds, which has meant clearing the bank of michaelmas daisy roots. In doing this I have discovered the cowslips that have delighted me two springs in a row. I therefore dug these, cleared their roots of bindweed and replaced them more or less where I found them since I’m assuming they are self-sown and therefore like where they are. Whilst shaking the soil out of one of these plants I found a tiny horse shoe that I decided to replant under the said cowslip and to conduct some research into folk lore as to whether this may have been deliberately placed thus by a previous occupant.

Tonight I am planning to continue reading Levinas’ philosophy of ‘the face’ as my reading this morning has caused me to wonder if there is some relevance for my meetings with people here at the allotment.

Wondering if my little bird has alighted in Copenhagen yet, the first leg of her flight to Finland

anxious robin

I’ve been clearing behind my neighbour’s fence where there are several shrubs winding themselves together; honeysuckle, something evergreen and brambles to ensure an almost impervious cocktail. I’ve come across 3 nests, which when I returned to photograph what I’ve been doing, I saw a robin looking somewhat perturbed. I’m assuming I’ve uncovered last years’ birthing place. I hope I haven’t made it homeless!

I was very pleasantly interrupted in what I was doing by a friend who lives up the lane arriving with a cup of her husband’s homemade winter vegetable soup, containing some of my artichokes.

Last night on the run-up to midnight I was hatching my plan for the layout of beds and sowing for the coming year. I also managed to place my seed order on-line just before the end of 2007, a job well done.