Hot and dry: is this a portent of the summer to come? I went up to the allotment in a t-shirt. And the day just got hotter. I was cleaning the shed (well, it’s actually rather clean right now. I was really looking to see if I had remembered to bring the parsnip seeds and left them in one of my hanging plastic bags; I didn’t) and found a small bag of seed potatoes. Rats. It meant that I had to dig two more trenches for the potatoes. Does this crop ever end? I sweated my way down near the end of the bed and put in two rows of Cara main crops. So now, surely it’s all over and they can just get on with growing.

I have about six feet left at the very end of the plot in front of the apple trees now. And that will be the perfect place to grow the cucumbers. I’m going to grow plenty this year, just to beat the slugs. And am looking forward to putting up some nifty structures for them. Anything to keep them off the ground and away from the beasts. And if all goes well I want to underplant the cucumbers with lots of trailing nasturtiums as a sacrifice crop.

I decided that the suffering sweet peas in the cold frame need to get planted, even though it’s too early. They are disintegrating in their soggy loo rolls and not looking pert. I was watching an old re-run of Sarah Raven on Gardener’s World and she mentioned that they are tough as old boots and can cope with a bit of snow. So I have put them in at the end of the bean poles. They look a bit sorry, so we shall see. The entire bean plot is a sorry site / sight. All compacted clay and heavy soil. I have been diligently putting rotting compost into the crossroads of the plot where the beans went last year in preparation for a good soft bed. But I decided to put the beans somewhere else this year. Sigh, you just can’t plan for everything.

The cold frame (now well secured with lots of bricks) is full of just sprouting peas and broad beans, plus a few of the tomato plants that survived their ice bath when the lid blew off last week.

I inspected the pea rows: can’t see anything sprouting and suspect they have all been eaten by mice. So this is my salient lesson. Everything has to be grown in pots, root trainers or jiffys and only transplanted out when they are of a size to cope.

I tried to prepare the parsnip bed. The soil is rock solid at the top and rather soft and damp underneath. We just need a good shower of rain to get things softened up so I can plant. Something seems to have eaten half of my Nerines as well. Grrr. But finally the onion sets are showing a bit of life. I think they were well checked by last week’s cold weather.

Back home – perspiring mightily, but clutching some lovely purple sprouting broccoli. No one told me they were such a long lived crop. Must grow more this year.  And I continued the gardening theme by having a mass potting. So much fun: we are going to be away climbing for a week, so I need plenty of things to germinate while we are away.

Sitting proudly on the kitchen window are 12 celeriacs, 12 parsnips, 24 land cress, 4 nasturtiums, 2 sweet peas, 1 climbing bean (ran out of loo rolls) 15 capsicum, 5 marmande tomatoes, 5 mizuna lettuce and 5 salad mix. It has exhausted my entire crop of peat pots, and labels, but I feel that the numbers are about right. I only had four capsicum plants growing last year, and could easily have grown fifteen. The same about my parsnips and celeriacs. Forget the neat rows that Mick always manages, I think I only germinated about three parsnips last year. And I nurtured just a single celeriac plant. It tasted gorgeous and I really wish I had planted more.

Potted up more climbing beans in root trainers and loo rolls. Sorted seeds into the months that they need planting, and generally had an indoor day (apart from long walk to library to take out yet more gardening books). It’s easy to sow seeds on this big dining table; and I have plenty of space to germinate the plants. I can start them in the kitchen and then once they sprout, move them to the sunny side of the building.  They all grow in their jiffy pots or in the loo rolls. Mind you they start out so lovingly prepared – and then have to get ravaged by slugs and mice and wind and rain and sleet and frost once they get outside. I do feel a bit guilty sometimes.

Well, I’m one day ahead of schedule: all the potatoes are in. It looks at lot when you see the list, but with my narrow plot I only get eight or nine tubers per row.


- Maris Piper
- Maris Piper
- Charlotte
- Charlotte
- Charlotte
- Charlotte
- Charlotte
- Duke of York (Red)
- Duke of York (Red)
- Cara
- Cara
- Duke of York (Red)
- Pink Fir
- Pink Fir
- Pink Fir
- Pink Fir

I covered the lot with fleece and with it being cold enough to see my breath, I set to with sorting paths (adding the new bark chips down to all paths) and hefty digging out of the old ant nests. Or are they termites? Anyway there are two large mounds that make walking along the side path between myself and Charlotte’s (yet again) derelict site very difficult. So with sharp spade and great verve, I managed to break them up. I don’t quite know what to do with all the soil (still with a few termites clinging to it) but I must confess that I just dropped it over to Charlotte’s side. Bad girl, bad allotmenteer, but she hasn’t been back since that weekend in April and all she is growing is a slug colony over there.

I put up my bean poles. Not in the middle of the plot this year (although I may still do it) but in front of my wheelie bins to try and hide the messy corner of the plot. It feels very optimistic while it is still cold to put up the bean frame, but the forecast is for spring to appear. Any day now.

I am creaking my way back home again: aching back from a few more rows of potatoes. It’s a good thing they are such low maintenance produce after the hard planting. I wouldn’t want to spend much more time on them than I really have to. Crouching low over a trench and crumbling clay soil into acceptable chunks row after row after row is more than enough thank you very much.

Actually I spent the first two hours today avoiding potato planting; and it was most diverting. I was prettying up the shed. And getting things out of pots and salving my conscience about the months of neglect these pot plants have endured. I just know that the when it warms up those poor plants that used to be on our roof terrace will suffer from lack of water. Right now they are out of sight at the back of my little shed. So I rarely go there to inspect. And the poor westringias, which have been absolute workhorses of foliage and white flower, deserve better.

So I dug the soil in the bed beside the shed, planted one of the Madame Alfred Carrière climbing roses, two westringias, and even put the two thyme balls that had been lurking in pots around the front of the shed too. Add to that one of the rosemary bushes plus ivy and things are starting to look a bit better.

Not designed mind you – and a bit scruffy. But thank goodness no-one hands out pretty awards at allotments. Everyone has messy sections, and I’m no different. I can’t wait to put up the bean poles to hide the hideous wheelie bins and rubbish at the other end. The other rose is at the end of the plot underneath the apple tree. And it has to stay there because it is propping the tree up. It leans rakishly unless it has the hefty weight of the rose pot just so. Let’s see if I can water it well over the summer. I love reading about people who have climbing roses growing up through their old apple trees. My poor ones will probably get fly blown or whatever it is that worms its way into my apple crop. They are an inherited ‘joy’, so must take second place to all the other tasks that need to be done.
I finally sawed up the bit of pine tree that was left from the gale. It took ages as I had to cut off all the little branches and then do the trunk in two bits. The smell of the pine resin was gorgeous, but I’m glad it’s now more out of the way.

I had my first go at propagating too. A few of the westringia branches came off as I was transplanting them (careless activity really and so glad no-one saw me yanking them about as I tried to get them into the holes) so I found some grit that was left over from an old pathway, added that plus multi purpose compost to two good-sized pots. I trimmed off the shoots of a few plants and stuck them in. I’ve been watching this procedure for so many years on the tele that I hope I got it right. I know I’m supposed to put a plastic bag over them and keep them in a good warm sunny place for a bit. But I am fresh out of plastic bags (I’ll take some up tomorrow) and warm isn’t a feature of London right now. Today was barely 9C and quite drizzly all day.

Once all the pretties had been planted, and the contents of the cold (freeze) frame inspected, I headed off to the potato bed. You get great exercise at the plot because you are forever forgetting one thing (the scissors, the fork, the labels) in the shed and need to plod all the way back. But there was no putting it off. Well I did do some heavy lifting of multi purpose compost bags (dead weight – 70 litres) because naturally they are in the way. I use them to hold down the fleece protecting the beds, and need to get them off the beds when it’s time to dig. Goodness knows how I’m going to get those monster tomato grow bags into their final spot. I guess I have to do it first thing in the morning when I’m fresh.

Today’s haul of rows were one Charlotte, two Duke of Yorks and two Pink Kir Apple varieties. And I think I only have three Pink Fir Apples to go. Yippee. I covered up the rows with the fleece that wasn’t eaten by the mice in the shed; made a mental note to buy more, and then stood back at a bent crouch and surveyed the handiwork.

Rino came by to survey as well. He is in twists of anxiety about his tomato seedlings in his greenhouse. The poor man grows so many seedlings for all of us, he takes his responsibilities seriously. And this cold snap has slowed down and even killed off some of the growth. He is a worried gardener. And unlike me – who has noticed that I managed to snap freeze about a dozen little seedlings – I don’t have to share the fruit of my labours with other allotmenteers. The lid came off the cold frame and the poor little teensy plants ‘enjoyed’ a night in the elements.

I am putting a lot of the new bark chips to use by adding them to my long straight paths. That’s another first thing in the morning job; leaning into shovel loads of recalcitrant bark chips that have been dumped on long grass on refuse to budge is good for one’s soul. But not the back. But they aren’t doing much good just lurking at the edge of the plot. And I can see some little weeds already poking through the old path. Time to get mulching and try and slow the blighters down.

I’ll go up first thing tomorrow (I did manage to leave my wallet and mobile phone and mp3 player there yet again) and do those potatoes.

The makeshift cold frame at the allotment was very cold indeed. The lid blew off. I drove up in a gentle snowstorm this morning and was disappointed by the weather. This was to be my first morning of a three day session of potato planting I had planned. But I wasn’t deterred. I stopped at the garden centre and bought six huge bags of multi-purpose compost. They bashed merrily into all sorts of displays on their way to the cash desk. Serious trolley malfunction occurring just as I rounded the paint displays. Not sure I will be welcome back for a while.

And once I had heaved them from the car to the plot I decided to put off the heavy potato work with a spot of planting peas and bark chips first. I may not have perfect crops, but my paths are a sight to behold. Scooping up the freshly chipped tree branches that were left behind by the tree surgeons last month, I merrily decorated the paths with this pale fresh crop of mulch.

And then did another row of peas. Such symmetry, it’s bliss. And then after a slug of water and a few scoffed biscuits, I got down to the potato work. It isn’t pretty but at least I lots done. In total today I had put down six rows of potatoes, three peas and a few extra broad beans in the gaps. The robin has come back to supervise my digging which is lovely. And I even had time to mulch around the rhubarb. It isn’t romping – but it’s still early spring.

It’s snowing ever so lightly here in South Kensington. Not madly or dramatically, but enough to make my poor plants suffer up at the allotment. But the ones here in the house are growing on merrily. The Kale and cornflowers are up; and the others are showing some tiny signs of life. Must make sure they don’t dry out in this under glass warmth.

Instead of gardening I am looking at Australian plants to buy on the internet. And the good news is there are three garden suppliers in the south of France who look like keen breeders. It may save me a packet in postage and handling to get them there. But they aren’t cheaper than the ones at the Old Walled Garden. It seems I have to pay around £8 per healthy plant.

I’m going to have a good clean out of the shed today. And I was all set to take up my little jiffy pots of flowers that I’m germinating. But I just heard the weather forecast for next week – it’s to be a return to winter. So I don’t think taking them up to the cold frame is a good idea after all. I unpacked the bags and put them back behind the large glass ceiling to floor window beside my desk. Rats. This always happens in March; one is so impatient to get going. But I will take up a few root trainers of French climbing beans and mange tout peas I potted up last night.

And my special treasure are also going up to the plot today – ground pegs. I have been hunting for them for ages now ever since Homebase ran out of them back in January. With all the swirly wind one gets in spring I need to be able to secure my coverings on the plot. And now I have two whole packets of long shiny spikes that I found at Dominic’s hardware store in Primrose Hill yesterday. That and a huge ball of green twine. I do so love independent hardware stores. So many treasures inside – but you never know where to look.

I’m looking forward to seeing the little grape hyacinths that were sprouting merrily below the apple trees. They are rather hidden in the long grass, but they are still little gems. I may even get down and have a good sniff too.  I just finished reading Led by the Nose: A Garden of Smells by the poet Jenny Joseph and it does make you readjust your olfactory senses. I never know half the things the woman writes about were aromatic.

I parked and saw Mick bending over a large trench and perspiring mightily. He was putting his early potatoes in. Oh dear, I thought, I wasn’t going to do mine until the end of the month. But Mick is an oracle of sorts at our allotment, and I tend to follow his sage advice. I looked at his perfectly straight trench, at his perfectly crumbly soil (looked like rich chocolate cake crumb) and spotted all sorts of things going into the bottom – chicken pellets, slug pellets, but no potatoes yet. He looked pleased to pause for a rest and a chat. He wasn’t too concerned about the return to winter next week, thinking the depth of the soil will protect the little tubers. So, my thoughts of domestic shed cleaning were quietly put aside. I think it’s time to get my spuds in.

And gad it was exhausting. Unlike Mick’s beautifully tended plot, mine is rather a football field of clay. And I heaved and sweated and dug and dug, – and managed just two rows of potatoes after over an hour of work. And I felt terribly for the tubers that went in. They weren’t going to like what I did. I managed a deep trench (going deeper and wider this year after last year’s sorry effort), but I just don’t have buckets and buckets of compost to put back over the top. I managed big handfuls of multi purpose compost over each potato, and tried to spread a lot back into the trench. Then I found myself placing clods of clay about the size of my fist over the top. If it was grave digging, I wouldn’t get good marks. The poor cadavers would probably poke back out.  I will have to buy in more multi-purpose and get a better amount down the trench if I’m to plant the rest.

And how on earth am I going to do it? It will take about two solid days of digging to get in all the Duke of Yorks, Charlottes and Maris Pipers. Not to say anything of Caras and that extra Duke of York variety over-sprouting behind the curtain here in the living room. (They are getting plenty of growth on the chits, but turning a bit wrinkly too. Way ready to get them in the ground.)   I guess I will have to hope the weather turns at the end of next week when David is in Norway and I get some serious uninterrupted digging in.

I took the Perspex lid off the cold frame and gave the seedlings inside their sun kicks. Lovely warm weather and everything is sprouting beautifully – shame they may get frozen next week. And I gave the roses in their pots a good water and poured a good bucketful of water into the westringias in their pots. I really must take cuttings of them for future life in France – they really are good plants. Plenty of small white flowers in early spring, and verdant and cheerful.

Naturally I had to have a break after all this soul destroying digging; so I went and did have a good clean out of the shed. I even had a ceremonial pulling down of the jet fighter poster that was on the ceiling – and found a lovely crop of greeblies underneath. Honestly you would think I was making a Nature radio programme about wild creatures in that little shed. Plenty of spiders and other odd things in corners. Now I’m afraid they have been rather disturbed and may not come back. They had been having a good feed on some of my weed proof membrane rolls. I had to peg one out and hope for the best. They are more than welcome to gnaw at the stuff out on the plot – it may take their minds off the peas that I planted last week. There are definite signs that something has been deftly been digging them up. I will have to plant yet more in the gaps. I have done some in root trainers as well, just to have a fresh store of juicy plants to replenish.

Had to head back home in the late afternoon – people coming over for dinner – and what a pleasure to be able to bring back an armful of daffodils plus the large handful of hellebores.

I do believe I received a touch sunburn from my gardening sojourn today. What a lovely development. Back aches like billy-o, but you have to invest some pain to get some gain.

I spent the day avoiding Janet who seemed quite chirpy today (the tulips are out – but she is still going on about replanting the fallen pine tree.)

Rino was hard at work with some complicated exchange with a man further down the site. I think Rino either swapped two enormous cardoon plants, or was given them, or gave them. I couldn’t unravel his English today, bless him. But he did remind me that I still have some artichoke plants to come in May.

It was so warm that I had to keep going to the shed to get more water to gulp to slake my thirst. The taps aren’t on yet, so I have to rely on bottled stuff from the shed. It’s a mess in there. I really must have a clean up. But not while there is weeding to do. I’m almost behind schedule now that the soil is warming up. I laboured up and down the soon-to-be potato bed and then started in on the part that will be the flower bed and the new cabbage patch. I kept snapping off tasty little morsels of the purple sprouting broccoli plant as I went past. They have done well over the winter, despite looking straggly. And I have managed quite a crop for a dinner party on Thursday night. I also removed half a dozen leeks. They are sitting in the sink trying to soak away the clay soil as I type. I wish I liked them more – they just don’t thrill my taste buds.

I had a look at the onion sets that I planted and have realised that I really shouldn’t have mulched them before they put on a bit of growth. It’s going to be hard to find them if they get trapped under the black plastic. I will remember that for the next times. Only plant seedlings through the covers.

To take a break from the endless weeding and slug snipping (it’s my new technique – I have a pair of scissors in my pockets and bring them out when I find a slug. Cut in two and on I go) I planted another row of peas. Most satisfying, but I do wonder if any will come up. The mice managed to have a good ravage of the broad bean plants. I will definitely have to fill the gaps. But I’m feeling positive and just have to watch and wait.

No real time to sit down and have lunch (and I forgot to bring any) instead I stalked about my beds and tried to picture where everything will go this year. Here is my tentative plan.

The tomatoes can’t be near the potatoes, but as my plot is half potato farm it’s hard to hide the toms anywhere. I had no blight last year so hope it won’t strike either vegetable this time round. But it was this musing that has brought me to the dilemma. Two gardens (one in France and this one) mean that one is going to get neglected at the same time the other is nurtured. And at this stage David is plotting our decamping to France for the entire month of August. And I can’t quite see how my food will survive a whole month without watering. So I have to hope that most of the crops can cope – potatoes and cabbage – and that the rest will be a gamble. It makes me wonder why I bought those two incredibly heavy grow bags for the tomatoes after all. But I shall give it more thought and try to come up with a solution.

I rummaged around in the shed to see if I couldn’t pot up any more dwarf French beans and leave them in the cold frame, but instead came across a packet of Nerines. Sprouting nicely. Oh dear. The shed is obviously emerging from its winter storage slumber and turning into sauna. I knew I had to plant the poor tubers out, even though I haven’t really made the flower bed yet. It’s going to be a waste if they don’t survive, but I planted them right at the end of the path, just at the intersection, and hope they come up or just prefer their current resting ground. But then who would want to spend their lives in a clay-thick heavy soil with only slugs and mice for company? I ask you.

What I love about home grown veg is the certain frisson of worry about the critters that come into the house. Last night I dumped the leeks in the sink and the purple sprouting broccoli on the counter. Went climbing for three hours; came back and found two rather large caterpillars making a big for freedom across the kitchen floor. Blech.

It was 18C today in London and way too warm for my winter clothing that I wore on my walk to Primrose Hill. But spring is definitely here. To celebrate I am plotting going up to the allotment tomorrow to put in more peas and make a start on the potato rows.  And this afternoon I had a happy hour planting little teensy flower seeds into jiffy pellets and putting them in the bottom of the bookshelf in the sun.  I planted three of the following: nigella damascene double white, cornflower B, antirrhinum white, bells of Ireland, nicotiana lime green, alpiglossis chocolate, cleome spider flower and scabiosa black cat. Half of these didn’t survive the slug attack last year, so I’m looking forward to nurturing them to a longer life this year. I had a bit of space left, so planted two different kales (red bor and nero di Toscana) and finally some capsicum seeds that I scraped out of a capsicum bought from the supermarket. I wanted to plant the F1 jumbos – but the little packet was bare.

The shed is mine, hurrah! Had a long rather surreal conversation with Antonio, one of the Sicilian brothers who paid for it two years ago. He sounded very gruff and threatening on his earlier phone messages, but revealed that he is a healer and an artist and lived for a long time in Australia. I didn’t want to go into too much detail about my life in case he felt I needed a spot of healing (he spends a lot of time ‘healing’ Janet).  But I did want to impress upon him the fact that I’m a serious gardener and I really need the shed. Done. So the cheque is in the post and on we go. And I have finally learned the name of the allotmenteer who had my plot for over 30 years. His name was Bill Hamilton. Now that’s a nugget. Antonio even remembers helping him prune his apple trees and that was a long way back.

Planted eight more dwarf French beans in cardboard tubes this morning. I know that I am going to lose at least half to the slugs, so I have to sow lots.