Moi, putting off my day job by sowing lots of seeds? Well, guilty I’m afraid. I couldn’t resist ‘doing’ my half-hardy flowers into some jiffy pots. They all come from Sarah Raven’s Cutting Garden. And I must say that there were very few seeds in some of the fiddly packets. I’ll have to harvest my own seeds of the following later in the year:

- Nicotiana alata Lime Green
- Salpiglossis Chocolate
- Antirrhinum F1 White

Some of the seeds were so teensy (think grains of fine sand) that I had to use tweezers to get them into their little pots. Onto the kitchen window sill and wait until the seedlings appear.

Flower: Antirrhinum F1 White
How many?: 6
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Flower: Molucella Laevis bells of Ireland
How many?: 6
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Flower: Salpiglossis ‘chocolate’
How many?: 6
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Flower: Nicotiana alata ‘Lime Green’
How many?: 6
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Flower: American Spider Flower HC
How many?: 18
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Vegetable: Tomato Tumbler F1
How many?: 4
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Vegetable: Pepper Gypsy F1
How many?: 4
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Vegetable: Early PS Broccoli Rudolph
How many?: 8
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Vegetable: Cabbage Vertus
How many?: 8
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Vegetable: Kale Red Bor F1
How many?: 8
How planted?: Jiffy 7s
Notes: Kitchen window sill

Bliss – a whole afternoon at the allotment. Not entirely guilt-free as I had so much to do, but I rationalised it by thinking that I won’t be going back there for a week. I had an ambitious afternoon’s workload. First I spent an embarrassing half hour trying to put up the bamboo cane supports for the top of the bean poles. What a botch – I tied, watched them fall, arranged them in an arch, saw them ping out of their wires as I tried to neaten up the whole structure; couldn’t reach the top of the poles. I pulled them all out, started again, failed and then just gave up. I tied string around the 12 poles and pulled the whole thing a bit taut like a tepee and just got on with real work. The small bamboo curved supports will have to do for something else.

I planted eight sweet pea plants at the base of each middle support, watered them in and wished them luck. A frost is going to do lots of damage there.

Next it was on for a bit of planting in the main beds. I had some rather spindly cabbage plants that weren’t thriving in their jiffy containers – must remember to hold off and not plant those seeds so early next year (I say that every year). But I decided that if I planted them in rows in the ground they can serve as a sort of experiment. They will either romp away or wither. I planted five of them; put a half plastic bottle over the top of each as a cloche, and did the same for four salad seedlings. It’s great to see a bit of action in the rows at last. Each has a piece of green twine pulled taut attached with small sticks to mark out where I have planted. Hopefully soon there will be these perfect rows everywhere.

I have always been aware that there is a temptation to sow too many seeds in one go and have a glut. But I can understand why people do it – you put all the work into raking a perfect row, making the right depth, watering, running the straight string over the area, getting those teensy seeds into your hand, and you just want to sow the lot. But I think I have come up with a solution. I have placed three little green marker sticks down the row, neatly divided into threes. That way even though the whole row is prepared I will stop one third of the way down. And repeat the sowing a few weeks later. Naturally I don’t have enough of those little white labels to mark out when I have planted, so I will have to rely on this diary to make sure I know when I sowed the seeds. (Complete deficit of those white sticks – I search everywhere for them)

I sowed a row of parsnips this way, and some tiny leek seeds. I imagine everything will catch up and this precision will be wasted, but at least I look orderly.

Next it was on to the potato beds – they are growing wonderfully under their fleecy cover. I was secretly delighted to see some bindweed coming up too. They are just the most amazing weed; I couldn’t help but admire them. In the space of one week they are capable of pushing up five inches of strong straight stem with about ten strong leaves, all unfurling and reaching for the light. I crouched very low over the four bindweed plants I found, dug carefully around them and hauled them out. They aren’t even anchored by a long root. Fascinating.

Each row was weeded and then it was no putting it off any longer. I had to get the shovel out of the boot (unused since I did the major weeding of the beds back in February) get the wheelbarrow from under the bean pole supports and get to work shovelling soil into the spaces between the potato rows ready for earthing up. I am incredibly lucky in that I have a huge amount of extra topsoil at the flower bed end of the plot. The previous owners used raised beds, which means that there is about a foot more soil spaced over an area ten feet by fifteen feet and all lovely stuff. I don’t have a clue about the exact volume of the soil, but by shovelling into the wheelbarrow and wheeling it to the potato bed and adding it to the plants (well, just next to them) I achieved a good afternoon’s work. Achingly slow and heavy work (especially as it was a warm afternoon) but I was on a roll. I feel the potatoes are now ready for a lot of nurturing over their growing season.

Next I thought that I ought to give the bottom of the plot under the apple trees their last tidy. Must bring my camera next time as it looks rather good now. I pulled up the last of the ten feet’s worth of carpet, pulled the big weeds and cleared away the tiny brambles that are starting to grow. These are the plants which I had hoped were rose bushes. Oh days of innocence and hope. That was when we first had a look at the long weedy plot and I Had Dreams of rambling roses. Now it’s just cold, harsh slash and burn Sinclair. Yank em out and start again. And besides, they aren’t roses. They’re brambles. So I felt little qualms about digging up the plants and adding them to my only two small bags of rubbish (hidden behind the wheelie bins.)
Then I looked at this last ten feet of land, looked at the huge amount of topsoil sitting right next to it just waiting to be put somewhere. I briefly considered the two solid days I would have to spend on my knees weeding and weeding and turning this not-to-be-used area. And made the cop-out decision. I just started shovelling and covering the whole area with cleared soil. Cheating or what? It was fabulous fun – hot and sweaty, I finally could say that I have a beautiful looking allotment. In just four months I have ‘done’ 20 metres of land (almost 66 feet).

It was getting late; but just as I was considering packing up, David Braeburn and a woman named Charlotte came up. She is taking on the empty site next to me. Perfect timing as I had just pulled my unneeded carpets and was wondering what to do. Chatted a bit with both of them (David wisely advising me to pull off the two seed heads that were forming on the rhubarb. I wondered what on earth they were) and then Charlotte came back to stalk her site with that crazy grin on her face that I remember from my early days. Lucky her. She is a student I think – something you can deduce from that fact that she shares a house with six other people – and very organic. Flowers and herbs I think is what she wants to plant and I’m delighted to have her as a neighbour.

We moved the carpets over to her weedy patch and went on a tour. She has inherited a fantastic Aladdin’s cave of a shed. Full of treasures including a hand push lawn mower which she has kindly agreed to share. That will be great – it needs a service I think, so shall have to look around to find out where one gets such things serviced. And she even managed to have a good chat with our lovely Vietnamese neighbours. They have offered here a box full of Maris piper seed potatoes which is the perfect welcome gift. So now our little area of the huge allotment site is complete. It looks like it’s going to be a very productive year ahead.

Vegetable: Sweet Peas
How many?: 8
How planted?: On bean pole supports
Notes: Middle of the plot

Vegetable: Parsnip F1 Gladiator
How many?: third of a row
How planted?: Into shallow drill
Notes: Bed 2

Vegetable: Leeks Musselburgh
How many?: third of a row
How planted?: Into shallow drill
Notes: Bed 2

Vegetable: Lettuce (mizuna, tom thumb)
How many?: 4
How planted?: Plants. in row
Notes: Bed 3

Vegetable: Cabbage Greyhound
How many?: 5
How planted?: Plants. in row
Notes: Bed 3

I’m going to be house-bound for about ten weeks with a huge project on Climate Change for a new screen play project. Very lucrative for my bank account, but not for my vegetables. I have pledged to get up earlier each day just to fit more work in. And as a reward, I will go up on Wednesday but that will be it for the week. Sigh. It is raining today which is a thrill; soft gentle rain, but at least it has kept up for hours. That ought to break down the hard lumps of soil I created when I turned over the flower bed. I need rain to break down the soil so I can then rake it over and start planting the half hardy flower seeds. On Wednesday I shall see.

Vegetable: Soya Bean
How many?: 4
How planted?: Root Trainers
Notes: Unheated room

Fresh off the Eurostar from Paris with David, we raced home. I created a fast lunch, and then zipped up to the allotment to see what I could do.

First thing was to admire the activity of the neighbouring plot (luckily in a lower sector as we are separated by a main path and a shed. Huge family all hard at work and shouting at each other as they weeded and dug and did all sorts of horticultural things to their once derelict site. I oscillated between being amazed at their activity (must have been five kids helping their parents) and rather put out as none of them came to say hello or consider anyone else’s peaceful activity around them. But I guess they will be weekend gardeners, and I hope to get most of my work done during the week.

I did get a visit from another plotholder: another new blood like me. A man named Peter bounded over from a plot and asked how far apart I spaced my broad beans. That was rather sweet. I’m the most amateur person there, but suddenly there is a rookie who is asking advice. He seems to be doing a plot with two other friends which looked rather convivial. Hopefully I will get to know them a bit better as the season progresses.

But socialising wasn’t the menu du jour. It was planting. I had to set up the carrot bed. First I need to put in four sticks at each end of the space (about 5 feet by two feet in bed 2) and then wrap around a vast quantity of the light breezy horticultural fleece to make a physical barrier about two feet high. This is to deter the carrot fly which infest the root crop. They can’t fly high however, so many people make barriers to stop them landing on the carrots and burrowing in. Mine looks rather twee and small. And the plot is now hopelessly bitty – sticks for peas one bed, this white fleece barrier in another. No razor straight lines and precision any more. I must be learning how to become a real gardener if I put aside my aesthetic sensibilities and opt for practical looks.

I sowed half the bed (rather awkward crouching over this two foot barrier and leaning in) in drills the traditional way, and the other half I did the Holden method of a huge steel spike making large holes, filling with compost and sand and putting seeds on top. This is supposed to create giant carrots that can grow softly and easily into the sand below. The carrot seeds are so tiny that it was hard to just get a few into each hole. Goodness only knows how many fell in during my sowing. I will have to thin. But as the carrot fly deterrence methods start to sound like something out of Harry Potter and the Dark Arts, I think I’m supposed to only pull out the seedlings at dusk or dawn to stop the smell attracting the attack carrot flies which hover like spectres around the plants. Thinning at any other time will invite disaster. Ugh. I’m so full of good intentions, but I’m bound to forget and just pull out the seedlings any old time and Invite Trouble.

I planted the broad beans from the missing bits of the row; planted a row of radish, a row of land cress, which looks an interesting crop. I thought there was only watercress which I love, but cannot possibly grow it as I don’t have a large body of free-flowing clean water. But I saw this packet of seeds in the allotment shop last visit, and thought I’d give it a try. It looks like watercress, but is definitely a soil type. It does need shade, which I don’t have until some plants start to grow up, so this first row might not thrive. I will definitely plant another crop under growing tomatoes or peppers later in the year.

The rest of the sowing was easy: a row of radishes. Just a straight drill and in they went. Lots of watering and that was it.

Watering is of course the big talk at the moment. Thank goodness for moisture retaining clay soil. I’m glad I bought those two second hand wheelie bins (£3 each, a bargain) from the Council as they are going to be my lifesaving water store. There are taps at around every 150 metres or so on the allotment, and I have been diligently scooping up the water that sits in the nearest trough, trundling with my wheel barrow full of the ‘bottled’ water, and taking them to my plot and filling the bins up. I also arranged a tarpaulin over some of the derelict compost bins so I can catch more of the rainwater and feed it into the wheelies.
I get the feeling that most people on the site use the watering can method and transport the water from these taps. I can’t see how they get a hose pipe anywhere near the long plots.

But all this water shortage has made me cut back on the large number of sweet peas I wanted to plant. Too, too extravagant. Shall save the water for the beans instead.

I weeded the potato bed (and unearthed the few that I buried a bit too enthusiastically) and admired the growth. The charlottes are romping away. Must remember not to walk between the rows when I weed. I have to be slower and put down a plank before I launch myself after a weed. Perhaps if I add the extra soil from the future flower beds between the rows that will deter me. (I need more soil to earth them up as they grow.)

Then I went for the final dramatic girlie moment – I put in the 12 huge eight foot poles that will be my central sweet pea and bean support. They are widely enough spaced on each side of the central path that I can get my wheelbarrow down the plot, but I haven’t finished off with the top supports, that is going to involve climbing into the wheelbarrow and reaching up with deft bits of string to attach them. I think I’ll leave that for another day. Time was running out.

On my way back I had a chat with Mick who was watering in the parsnip seedlings he had planted a month before. His rows are immensely long and there must be a hundred parsnip seedlings all growing away. What on earth does he do with all his bounteous produce? They all have to be stored somewhere when they are fully-grown. No doubt he will have an ingenious method and I will learn all about it. We chatted about when to put in our beans – he puts his seeds directly into the soil in the second week of May. Mine are already growing in root trainers on the top floor balcony at home. So once they burst through the bottom of the long skinny containers, there is going to be no stopping them – they will have to go into the soil next week or ten days at the most.

I collected about ten stalks of rhubarb for my neighbour Sally. She loves rhubarb, and made the mistake of trying to buy some from our chi-chi green grocers in Primrose Hill. They wanted £5 for a small bunch. Outrageous. She got mine for free. I wish I liked rhubarb more. I always think that it is part of becoming a British citizen – you have to just love rhubarb crumble and declare it your favourite dessert. Quite frankly I tend to reserve rhubarb for the medicine cupboard: one small amount and I find I am obliged to spend monstrous labours in the water closet. Still it does look nice; and grows as you watch it.

It was late by the time I got home, and spent a happy half hour potting on the tomatoes, the capsicum, the kale and the cabbage seedlings. Things are growing wonderfully.

Vegetable: Carrots Very Early Nantes 2
How many?: a few rows
How planted?: Half into prepared holes, half into drills
Notes: Bed 2

Vegetable: Radish French Breakfast
How many?: 1 row
How planted?: Into shallow drill
Notes: Bed 2

Vegetable: Land Cress
How many?: 1 row
How planted?: Into shallow drill
Notes: Bed 3

Back after what seemed like a long time climbing in Spain. I was rushing like mad this morning because I was dying to get up to the allotment for a few hours (I had groceries to buy and lots of work on the science journal to do) I must confess that plans for the garden was all I thought about for most of the holidays. Great thing to do when you are belaying your husband on a difficult rock climb – will I plant the radish now or wait another week?

Such verdant growth greeted me when I went up. The rhubarb in a week has put on a foot of growth; the apple trees have buds; the grape hyacinths and daffs are out (and white ones too, that’s a bonus; I find the yellow ones too perfectly bland.

Weeds yes, some pushing up in the beds, but less than I feared. I thought the place would be positively carpeted with the things.

But the most exciting thing was the sight of the skip. And only half full. I knew what my first job would be. On with some grungy clothes, out with the wheelbarrow and lug things to the skip. It’s about 200 metres from my pile of rubbish to the car park where the huge metal bin is positioned. And I think I did 11 trips. I gave up counting as it was such an asinine thing to do. Some of the bags were so full that I positively struggled to get them up over the high sides of the huge bin. Luckily Oswaldo came to my rescue on some of the heaviest.

And I was spared carrying the last load as I was intercepted by the Irish plot holder Mick. (I asked Oswaldo his name – and he shuddered with fear and mentioned his name sotto vocce. I’m glad to know that other people are a bit scared of him. He is the arbiter of the rules in the area.) And naturally I Have Transgressed. I was putting things in the skip that could have been burnt. I was hauling some rotten carpets in the wheelbarrow past his plot at the time. The carpet sprouts another carpet of weeds that have grown through the rotting material. Luckily as I was explaining why I was dumping it, he was unable to tug away at the grass that was the offending matter. I grovelled and played rather stupid and was let off with one of those ‘well nobody saw you put the grass in, so you are in the clear.’ What a relief. I would hate to be in the bad books for crimes against orderliness.

But what orderliness there is now at my plot. Gone are those bags and bags of mess, the wheelie bin full of dead carpet and plastic. Now I just have to do a small job of burning the last of the mess and rearranging the carpets so that the last strip of weeds don’t grow through.

Actually one of the other surprises was the neighbours plot. Over the Easter weekend someone has turned it from a waste field to a brown churned up plot. I did think that they had put a hundred Boy Scouts to work, but then realised that they took to it with a rotovator. How strange that is – it just digs in the weeds. But my goodness, the area is done in one weekend what took me a month. But Mick has tutted over it. Just look at that place in two weeks time. All the bind weed which has been cut up by the blades will sprout a hundred times more than before. Having been on the gardening game at this allotment for about 30 years I get the feeling he has seen all this misplaced, rushed enthusiasm before.

Am I tarred with that same brush? He did approve of my hand weeding my beds – so I may be spared his scorn. Sarah asked me if I am accepted by the old timers at the allotment. I don’t think so. Especially as on Sunday I plan to put up the sweet pea pergola (it is also the support for the beans) and they are going to gag with the girlie-ness of the whole structure. And it will throw a bit of shade on the potatoes which is probably anathema to them. But they do like to visit me. So I guess that’s something.

Once I had done my rubbish clearing (skip now almost full, eek), it was time to minutely inspect growth. The shallots are romping away. So too are the onions and garlic. Most of the broad beans are thriving. Some of the ones that suffered from the cold promptly died. But I have only lost three plants out of about 16 so that’s fine. I must remember to push some seeds in the rows where the gaps are.

I planted the lilies in the other pot plunged in the bed. Had to water like mad first. The taps are finally turned on and I need to move the water closer to the source of garden. I think I will bring lots of plastic bottles and do a bit of to-ing and fro-ing from the distant water butt and try and fill up my wheelie bin. That way my watering can be more spontaneous than plodding and tedious. I wonder if there is a rule against that?

Next I had to see if there potatoes were growing. And managed to have yet another one of those embarrassing garden moments. What on earth does earthing up the potatoes mean? I could see that at least two plants in each row are up and romping away. But do you earth up and cover the plants entirely, or partly? I just had no clue. So I looked over my shoulder to see that no one was watching, then scratched up the soil and mounded in around the plants. And when I finished, well, quite frankly, they looked like little cat funeral plots. Since coming home and inspecting the photographs of the Encyclopaedia of Gardening carefully, I have realised that they need mounding up around the plants, but not covering them. So that will be a Saturday task. Undoing the amateur job of the trip before.

I only had a few hours to do my work as I have another trip tomorrow – to Paris for three days of a Science journal annual meeting. So I felt frustrated that I had so little time. I have the sweet peas to put in and lots and lots of flower seeds to get in. There are the cabbage and kale plants to get in the ground. Carrots and leeks to sow, grass to cut along the edges. More major work on the flower beds And my work on the climate change project looks like it will be taking off. Egad, I will have two part time jobs that will take up more time than I want because all I want to do is grow flowers and veg.

Vegetable: Stargazer Lily
How many?: 8
How planted?: In pot, then into bed
Notes: Bed 3

Vegetable: Feltham First Peas
How many?: 6
How planted?: Directly into the soil
Notes: Bed 4

Spring cleaning. It was time to open the windows in our bedroom for the first time since autumn and get to the window boxes and give them a good feed. The poor ivy had suffered over the dry winter, but the rosemary and the geraniums had done quite well. I spent a happy time shaking out the dead ivy leaves (and spraying the people walking on the street below), cutting back, and then force feeding them with seaweed compost. Bliss. Every plant in the house had a dose, and I pruned back the eucalyptus tree on the roof terrace.

The poor tree was completely desiccated by the cold and the wind, but it seems to be still alive. I pruned like mad and have to hope for the best. I sprayed the roses as best I could in the wind, and conceded that I may be an organic gardener, but by god the roses get their magic chemicals before the black spot and mildew hits. They are Madame Alfred Carrière climbing roses in pots on the balcony, and they have put on tremendous growth in their first year. But I let them suffer with all sorts of rose diseases through sheer ignorance. And then we went away for two and a half weeks in August they suffered through lack of water. So this year they are going to get their doses of fungicide and insecticide; and get a drip water system installed before we leave.

The tomato plant has been potted on (into a rather sumptuous but small pot of chocolate ice cream I devoured last night) and the seedlings watered.

Tomorrow I need to pot up the runner and French beans. And have come up with a design for their wigwam.

What a treat to go up to the allotment four times in a week.  David is away at a meeting in Cambridge, so my days are a bit long right now.  I have scavenged some more parquet from the neighbours – and will head up there after my run.

The water at the allotment usually is turned back on in March.  But this year there is no activity in the taps and I wonder if they are going to delay even further in an effort to save water.  Coming back from my run I found my nematode slug control package sticking half out of the letter box. Instructions – dilute package in plenty of water. Argh.  These little critters have a shelf life – mine said 26th April. I debated whether to wait until we came back from holidays before ‘doing’ them; but realised that the potatoes may have already come under attack from the slugs and I needed to get going.  First I had to collect water to take up.  Buckets, bottles and all sorts were put into service – I carefully placed them in the car and prayed that my poor driving skills wouldn’t result in suddenly screeching to a halt. It would have been a very wet ride.

I made it to the allotment incident free, and just had to explain to the nice Irishman what on earth I was doing hauling buckets of water out of the boot.  He didn’t seem phased by the organic method of slug killing.  He uses pellets, but only the paths.

I did the deed – it really was simple, but time consuming filling so many watering cans of water and sprinkling evenly over the beds.  There were supposed to be enough nematodes to cover 40sq metres of soil. And I think that’s what I have.  But it seemed to go a bit short; but that was possibly because I lingered too long on the potato beds.  Anyway, the beds had a good watering and if it works it will be wonderful.  The soil has to be moist for a few days to keep the nematodes alive. So I just have to hope the weather is as stormy as it is now.  It rained later in the afternoon when I was weeding and I did welcome it.

The fleeces had to go over the potatoes again, and when I was tucking them in I noticed, I think, a potato seedling on the surface.  My first little potato crop.  It’s weird but as I have never even seen a potato plant I don’t know what to expect.  People just assume you know what they look like. I am too scared to ask people whether they flower and if they are attractive, these things just aren’t done. I suspect they aren’t.  I can well remember my surprise at discovering how attractive broad bean flowers were when I grew them for the first time on the roof terrace last year.

I spent the rest of the afternoon weeding the last bit of the flower bed. Hard, hard work as it was at the bad weed end. Lots of nasty long hard to pull weeds and quite a few slugs.  I was delighted to push the fork in for the last time.  Now I have a week off (climbing in Spain) and when I get back hopefully I will be able to work it properly and start to sow flower seeds.

Was ambushed by the great Oswaldo at the gates and had another hyacinth thrust upon me. I drove home with the sweet sickly smell overpowering me from the back.

I was wrong: it’s going to take one more day to clear those weeds. I finished the day with a patch of about four feet by four feet of weeding to go. And couldn’t turn another bit of earth.  Mind you, I could have just stayed out there until I finished, but working more than four hours a day seems like a rather extravagant amount of time for one’s ‘hobby’.  This is only meant to be a part-time dabble.

It was cool but sunny and I arrived just at the same time as the nice Vietnamese couple next to me. (Nothing beats not having to wrestle with the front gate and the sticky keys. I just swanned in and the lady locked the gate behind me.  We all seem to have the same routine. Open the boot, change one’s shoes, pat the resident allotment cat, get out the tools and stalk over to the site.

I’ve noticed that I don’t get full sun until about 10am on the beds closest to the fence.  May affect the growth of the cabbages and root vegetables.

I had a bit of time to Avoid Weeding – I decided it was time to trim the edges of grass first.  We are supposed to take charge of the paths next to our plots.  And I have a long lot of grass next to me on the main path.  I have the tool to trim the edges, but no lawn mower.  For one mad moment I thought I could do it all by hand with my shears.  But once I finished my edges I had the most tremendous blister on my middle finger to show for it.   Plus two bags of grass cuttings.  I’m going to have to make friends with someone who has a petrol mower. We have no electricity so I can’t invest in an electric strimmer.  Jana, I think, just ignored her grass.  But I am trying to be a good citizen. So will sniff around when any of my neighbours starts up their mower.  I remember my father’s hand mower – a wonderful tool which made the most lovely sound as it ran back and forth across the grass.  But I do recall you had to spend a bit of time oiling and fiddling and maintaining the blades.  But who knows, maybe someone has that sort of ancient machine – it certainly won’t be something you worry about getting stolen from the shed.

I did have a fantastic morning of scavenging before I came up to the garden today.  Having an allotment makes one bold – and even wealthy Primrose Hill has some rich pickings.  I got a wooden wine box from the local Nicholas (a Lalande de Pomerol no less. Shame it was empty) so I can plant up my salad leaves in some style.

I also boldly went to the neighbours who have one of the only big gardens in the street and asked for some cuttings for my pea sticks.  They make a willow sculpture in their garden each year for their children to hide in – a sort of garden bower. And they gave me about 20 sticks of last year’s pruning for my peas.  And lastly I managed to get some of the beautiful parquet flooring planks from the house opposite.  They are gutting the house and just chucking it away.  It’s rather fun to see the hideous kitchen units going, but I am surprised that no one wants to re-use the floor.  I’m going to use them as planks to walk on up on the beds.  And if I can get dressed in time, I may go over and get some more.  I can hear them piling everything in the street and waiting for the crane to pick it all up and take it to the dump.

I had a look at the broad beans I planted yesterday – and boy are they sulking. Not very happy about where they are poor things. I knew there wasn’t a frost last night, but it must have been colder than I thought. I hope they improve.  It does mean that I will put off putting out the rest of the little seedlings until I come back.  They can sit out on my roof terrace and harden off up there for ten more days.  The seedlings ‘under glass’ (well tacky plastic bottles) are fine.

Then it was up to the apple trees and more weeding. I have it down to a fine art and actually sit down now rather than ruin my back.  But it is becoming tedious in the extreme. Possibly because there are less slugs to scoop up, and very few weeds under the soil to distract me.  Must remind myself that this is the first and last time I have to do this sort of heavy work.  And on Friday I will finish.

It’s nice company to hear my ‘neighbours’ chattering away in (I think) Vietnamese nearby.  They are incredibly hard working and diligent. And like all gardeners, seem very generous. They offered me some seed potatoes. I had to explain that I had all mine in the soil already and under fleece, so didn’t need any more.  But it was kind of them to offer.

I finished the day with another swoop on my prepared beds. It’s tremendous fun – you spot a bit of green poking through, grab it out and find it’s attached to a tremendous couch grass root. Down you go on hands and knees and start hunting the rest. I pulled up a lovely handful. So satisfying.

Home to tend my blistered hand.

Well, it’s gone cold again. So annoying with my peas ready to go in. David and I had a long walk around Primrose Hill and Regent’s Park last night and we were positively dressed for winter. Hats, cloves, huddled into coats and moaning at the relentless wind. But at least it’s sunny. After my morning chores I shall go up with my improvised cloches for the peas. Cut down water bottles. They will look positively ghastly, but Rino has them (that’s where I cottoned on to the idea) and if I bury them deep enough they may not blow over in this gale.

Half-time at the football (listening to Arsenal against Juventus Champions League quarter final) and I have emerged from a wonderful bath. Waiting all that time for the plumber was worthwhile. First long soak since February. But on with the garden news. I did the peas and the beans and weeded the garden, and did my silly plastic bottles.

And there are now three rows of broad beans, which is plenty. And I must leave room for the dwarf French beans growing lustily on the roof terrace. The peas are in place in a slightly wonky row. I seem to recall you can cram the peas into the trenches, but I just didn’t have the heart. So there is going to be a bit of space between them. No slugs in sight thank goodness, and I remembered to water each plant before I placed their plastic cloche over the top. It’s rather dry right now and I have no idea how they are going to thrive in such clay soil. But at least the clay does keep in the moisture if there is any.

I watered the plot from my supply in the wheelie bin and positively glowed with Good Egg Behaviour in being able to recycle rain water. The taps haven’t been turned on, so I wouldn’t have been able to water them any other way mind you. I wonder when the water does come back on at the taps?

I reckon I have one more big day of weeding to finish the first work on the flower bed. As I stood back and gazed at the immense amount of work at the end of today I thought – my god this space is huge. I won’t have enough seeds to plant this area, let alone the vases to hold the flowers. But nothing beats over-ambition in the garden dreams department. I’ll just have to plant more nerines and sedums along the back. And maybe make the paths around the sides a bit wider.

But that’s a long way off. No more planting until we come back after Easter.

Vegetable: Sutton Dwarf Broad Beans
How many?: half a row (8 seeds)
How planted?: Directly into the soil
Notes: Bed 4

Vegetable: Sutton Dwarf Beans plants
How many?: 3 plants
How planted?: Directly into the soil
Notes: Bed 4

Vegetable: Klevedon Wonder pea plants
How many?: 8 small plants
How planted?: Directly into the soil
Notes: Bed 4

Vegetable: Feltham First pea plants
How many?: 4 small plants
How planted?: Directly into the soil
Notes: Bed 4

12.10pm and the plumber still hasn’t shown up. Tis the plight of Londoners that you can never get workmen to come, and if they do you are a hostage until they show. I am stalking about the house gnashing my teeth and desperate to get up to the allotment. I potted on a dwarf French bean which was bursting its jiffy container. But will leave the rest of the outdoor garden chores until it’s warmer. Besides, I can’t hear the doorbell ringing up there.

4.10pm and he finally shows up. Ugh. What a waste of a day. Mind you I did order lots of flower seeds online to pass the day. Sarah Raven’s website is getting a lot of my business this year. And the one joy I have realised about having my very own garden – I can grow what ever colour I like. And I only like crimson flowers. So I have ordered heaps. Plus a few lime green and white ones just for a bit of variety. I shall plot the design while he bashes downstairs with our boiler making a mess and a huge dent in the housekeeping fund.