I had to look up my last year’s diary to see when the potatoes went in, and I’m glad I did. I now remember reading that some people swear by them all going in by the last weekend of March, but the 8th is way too early. I shall content myself with weeding today instead.

It is actually very warm today, and I am most inappropriately dressed. Fleeces and heat do not combine well. I ate my lunch marvelling at the birds and the warm weather. The garlic has come up. And in some places I have had to feel about under the surface and ease the single green stalk into the light.  It is looking very neat I must say. And when I put in my endless rows of potatoes, well! It will be half done.  I will sow another row of peas next week. But just weed some more land. Must hold back on the potatoes. But it’s mighty temping with this weather.

I put my cold frame further out in the sun. It is hidden by the shed and getting a bit too much shade in the early morning. For some reason one of the clear boxes was full of water. Can’t quite work out how it managed to get under the Perspex lid, but who am I to question these mysteries. I emptied the water out on the westringia shrub being bonsai-ed in its pot right now. Can’t think of those poor plants – they just have to cope with life in pots until I get them either to France or give them away. (I have to do something about my bottle brush trees too. I have sort of pledged them to my hairdresser if she gets her house sale. But how on earth will she get them there? And I should be venal and sell them on the internet. Save some money…who knows. Gardening is so much about sharing that I dread making money out of so much lovely pleasure.

More daffodils for the vase and home I went

I never knew that daffodils had a scent until today. I cut some that were growing round the back of my allotment shed and brought them home. They positively perfumed the car. It’s not a strong scent, but it does make you want to stick you nose inside the petals and have a big inhale. They are a bonus from the previous tenants of the plot. Madame seemed to be keen on her garden flowers and there are plenty around the shed. Most of them seem to get crushed by my plant pots and stuff. I always feel guilty when I realise that I have deprived a crocus of life. But there are plenty more under the apple trees at the other end of the plot.

My other surprise was the skip sitting proudly in the car park – not locked away behind the chain link fence – as is its usual location. This was good news; it meant I could chuck away a few of my accumulated bits of mess. Two wheelbarrow loads of the heaviest and soggiest material I have in large plastic sacks beside the wheelie bins. I nearly lost the whole load when I was lifting them into the high sides of the skip. What a bad way to go – pinioned underneath a slime of garden matter with no-one to dig me out.

I usually love coming up to the allotment during the week. You can almost guarantee the place to yourself in the morning. Just Mick perhaps; and the other Irish gentleman. And my Vietnamese neighbours don’t turn up until lunchtime. The rest of the plot holders are the ones I usually only nod to and say hello. No time for talking, that’s my favourite allotmenteer. Mind you that is ungrateful. When I think of all the help that Mick has given me last year, and the extravagant flowers from Oswaldo. (I haven’t seen Oswaldo yet this year. Hope he is well.) And now this year I’m going to take up Rino’s kind offer of tomato seedlings grown in his glasshouse. I really need them to get a good start. He is also going to give me some artichoke seedlings in May. That’s a treat. I was going to buy them having studied long and hard about how erratic they are to grow from seed.  He starts work at around 4 in the morning and gets to the allotment around noon; we have little chats – his vocabulary is limited, but his generosity is endless. A good neighbour to have for a first time gardener.

I came back from the skip utterly muddy and smelling strongly of rotting matter and realised that it wasn’t just me. The wheelie bin that I have not put much use to last year resembled a stagnant pond. We have had a good three months of rain and things have started to turn into soup. A real reeking, gagging soup. I hoiked out as much of the mess I had stupidly dropped in there at Christmas (old contents of flower pots and such. Good ness only knows why I even dropped them in there, except that the apple tree branches make it difficult to get to the expiring compost bins at the far end. That will teach me for being lazy). And then I had to try and tip the contents onto the ground. It weighed a ton. And I’m afraid that I only managed to tip it half over before I realised that I just can’t do it on my own. And who on earth would I harness in to do the rest? It’s a shameful sight indeed. So it just sits half tipped over and looking forlorn. The other bin I am happy to report is almost full of water and will be put to good use very soon.

Planting today was fun.  More like embroidery than planting. I am doing the black weed proof membrane thing again. Down went the membrane onto the patch of plot that is destined for onions and garlic this year – pinned into the corners. Out came the scissors and I snipped little crosses into the cloth in neat rows about 10cm apart. Rummage about with the trowel to make a small hole and drag out some soil. Take a small onion set and place it in the space. Cover with some of the soil as best as possible and then move onto the next incision. Surgery, planting, embroidery, take your pick. But if it stops the thundering amount of weed growth I will be happy. I planted about 30 sets (I know, extravagant) but really, I didn’t want to waste the little critters. I bought them from the allotment shop earlier in the year and they only seem to come in jumbo sizes.

I then covered up all the black membrane with bark chips and stood back to admire the small plot of tidy work. I’m naturally concerned that the little shoots will somehow get stuck under the plastic and not find the light. But I will just have to coax them into life if they sprout. This is what I found with the garlic I planted last month. They are growing well, but somehow get a bit lost on their way up. I peered in each little opening and pulled them into the light. And to my amazement most of them came up (well, not the elephant garlic, but that was expected).

Next it was on to the broad beans. They have been sprouting happily in the makeshift cold frame and were ready to do battle with the mice. I had already prepared the bean bed and tried to see how many of the ones I planted directly in the soil had survived the mice. About half is the answer, but they are manfully growing and looking rather lush and green. Beside them I put the root trainer grown beans – five more rows.  What a crop. The allotment is rather long and skinny so it’s easy to think I am going way over the top in my food factory numbers this year. But I don’t get too many per row. I manage about eight broad bean plants a foot apart. (Well, a foot is anyone’s guess. Gone are the special measurements and careful plotting of the row this year. It’s just hand’s width and a bit more then plonk them down.)

I will fill the gaps in the earlier rows with beans a little later to conform to the idea of successional planting.  Mind you last year I don’t remember that worked very well with the broad beans, the drought had come by the time I planted them and they really struggled to get going. This year I am hoping for an absolute glut which I can freeze.

Next beside the broad beans are to be the peas. Now I have studied Mick’s pea factory further down the allotment and I have learned that you really can cram the critters in. I was way too cautious last year, worrying that they wouldn’t have enough space to grow. So this year it was a fair sprinkling of peas into the shallow trench and then covering them up with multi purpose compost and then some of my mighty clay soil on top. Not much mind you, a garnish of the stuff. I don’t want them to struggle just to get out of the soil.  And I set up some bamboo poles at each end of the rows, and tied three lengths of twine around poles spaced at regular intervals in between. No twiggy sticks for me this year I think. They are charmingly rustic but do tend to fall over or list in high winds. More bark chips over the area to make it conform to my less weed rule. And then on to lunch in the sun.

This is the fun part of the year. You sit on an upturned bucket at the end of your garden and just imagine how it will be in a few weeks time. There is going to be some serious potato production this year. It’s a good way to make use of the whole plot and they put on such growth that few weeds beyond the dreaded bindweed have a chance. (I can’t claim the whole plot yet until I get word from on high, but I just love the idea of not worrying about sharing the shed. And if I can’t manage the whole length, at least 30 feet of the site will be well secured under weed proof plastic this year.)

I have started a very tentative seed planting at home in South Kensington. Just the few cabbage and tomato seeds and beans that will go early. The sunny window next to my desk is quite the perfect site. And it’s lovely to look over from my work and see things sprouting into life. The basil seeds germinated most pleasingly. But will they suffer the same fate as last year? Slug food in just one night. I’m going to be tempting them with a lot of cheap beer in traps beside each seedling this year. Just to give the little plants a chance.

Well over in the French house diary you will discover that we have taken the plunge and put in an offer on a French farmhouse and 17 acres of brambles, sorry, land. It is going to mean that gardening in both countries will be a challenge; but I’m keen to try. I thought that I could plant trees and shrubs in France, and get on with the allotment as a food factory for a year or two more.  And even perhaps put in asparagus over in France. It will take three years before I can harvest properly. And who knows? Maybe we will be able to live there more often in a few years time too.

Getting a decent night’s sleep has been almost impossible since we agreed to buy the house. Finally I get an ambitious garden. But the poor London allotment will not be neglected; and I will try and keep this diary for this year’s food and flower production going.

Today it was too wet to even think of doing the peas up there. So I contented myself with inspecting the boxes and boxes of potatoes we have about the house: they are sprouting  – sorry chitting – nicely. The little first group of tomato seedlings are getting their exposure to the air. They call it hardening off, I call it wind burn. We shall see if they survive this cold spell.  I always find that this first group of seedlings are more an experiment than a serious planting exercise. It’s just our way of saying we are impatient for the growing season and want to get on. I remember last year all my cabbage seedling were well leggy and straggly as I planted them so early. They did survive mind you – but grew at very rakings angles.

I may ask Rino to use his greenhouse to grow tomato seedlings for me this year. Right now I’m off to the Royal Horticultural Society library to learn how to survey my potential 17 acre plot.  It’s a shame it’s pouring with rain, I was looking forward to the 45 minute walk.