From one petrol machine to another.

We hadn’t tried the hand-me-down rotovator since we picked it up last month and weren’t all that eager to pull it out of the shed now. It threatened to be a right arse and the lawn mower had put me into a mood. As it happened, the M1 Gardener started perfectly and by the time we’d dismantled half of it and discarded the air filter, it actually stayed started.

There is only have a tiny patch left to work and it was damn hard to control the machine within the confines. I’m pictured battling with the machine that was intent on ploughing through the neighbours fruit cage and then dragging me six feet under.

I finally got into a rhythm of ever decreasing circles and the effects on the ground were amazing. I was left with a tilth almost fit for sowing. I can’t wait til the end of the season when I get to churn up the whole plot.

Meanwhile, Lynn spent hours weeding the peas. Either the worms had worked the seeds to the surface or I had planted them too shallow because every weed pulled seemed to dislodge a tiny pea plant. Lynn must have transplanted at least half the row as she went along.

We’ve been researching pea support for last few weeks but in the end Lynn managed to forage enough dead wood from behind our plot to create an impressive architectural structure across both rows.

They look amazing and I hope those peas climb because it was a monumental effort.

There had been quite a hard frost at the beginning of the week and every last spud lay wilted and scorched over the earthed up mounds. I earthed them up again but we are at the limit now so I hope it doesn’t freeze again. I think the peach blossom was probably knocked back as well.

I’ve started to reclaim some of the fancy fruit area by sinking Grow Pots into the weed suppressant fabric and bark covering.

I’ve planted a few squash plants and if I can find a supplier of more grow pots I’ll have melons in there as well.

I had a slight hiccup with my squash seeds. I’d run out of plant labels so wrote the name on the polystyrene potting cups with marker pen. All the details floated away with the watering and now I’m left with umpteen unidentified forms of pumpkin and squash. It’s like last year all over again.

I went over to see Sam to hand in my notice and nearly came away blubbing. It felt very hard handing over my lovely little corner plot that turned from a bindweed monstrosity into a moderately productive little haven in the space of a season. We emptied the shed and carted the trammel and another blackberry bush over to the new plot and rapidly felt at ease again.

We are lucky to be able to start over again, making plans and building stuff, and this new plot is sooo tidy!

It’s rapidly approaching the end of February and yet this was our first visit of the year to the Norbury plot. It’s been so wet and claggy and the snow still hasn’t declared for the season so we haven’t been able to dig or sow. My allotment task list is covered in red overdue stars though so we decided time had come to brave inclement conditions, ignore gardening sense and plant the cabbages anyway.

We knocked up this cold frame top for the seed bed in a downpour and I planted greyhound cabbage, cauliflower, onions and lettuce while Lynn started on the compost bin construction. I don’t hold out much hope for the seeds but that compost heap is a thing of beauty.

Of course my parents are renowned troopers in the allotment world so I might also have hoped to benefit a little from their digging prowess and work ethic as well.

This shot nicely captures Lynn’s fear as she spots the kinky boots I bought my mum a couple of Christmases ago, I like to think she’s wondering desperately how she can backtrack and remove wellington boots from the xmas wishlist she left me with.

Too late though I’m afraid.

I’ve been revisiting an old book “Companion Planting” by Gertrud Franck and it triggered a little obsession with the mass planting of spinach seeds. I sourced a bulk supplier, Seeds By Size, awaited delivery of my 25,000 spinach seeds and then waited for the general mocking and guffawing from the children to die down, before sitting down myself and wondering if I’d gone ever so slightly nuts.

I am reasonably content that the mocking will die down when they find plate-fulls of slimey green stuff turning up day after to day but between then and now there is a lot of planting to do.

Luckily my Dad was quite prepared to get stuck in there and start me off with the first row.

I think the general idea with the spinach planting is to cut and leave in-situ as a mulch or green manure but I’ll worry about the specifics later.

Heading back to the water butt, I’m afraid there is very little left to say.

It was disappointingly uneventful.

The guttering was erected in moments, Lynn and my mum sorted the trajectory without recourse to swearing and the whole thing was dressed up like a work of art before I had chance to get my hands dirty.

My hands may have remained relatively clean but I didn’t let my folks get away with anything easy.

All in all they transplanted two fruit trees, dug the grotty front patch, planted a rhubarb crown, transplanted a row of spring cabbage, commenced the sowing of the 25,000 and demonstrated a bit of synchronised digging.

I did give them a cup of tea though.

A shed related edginess cast it’s shadow over our corner of the site as a slight “tension” emerged between the lazy starter-leaver (me) and the task focused completer-finisher (Lynn). I was of the view that without a hammer, a ladder, the time, the inclination or the right clothes, we should put the soon to be rotten shed roof to the back of our minds and continue with Plan A, returning to the shed problem next week.

Lynn isn’t built out of the same “sit down and ponder over a cup of tea” mould as me and it was clear that we were going to have to get this job done pronto or suffer the consequences.

Plans were hastily rearranged and after a quick retreat for tools (and a flask of tea) we were back and ready for action.

I tucked myself well away from the stressy end of the plot and dealt with the rubbish pile while Lynn got up close and personal with the shed.

The rubbish pile was the main reason for our planned quick visit, most of it had already gone – thanks to the committee ladies who had been helping us to dispose of all the crud. All that remained was for me to bag up the few remaining bits of polythene and carpet and evict a few squatters. Seven mice and a toad ran clear of the carpet (at least the mice ran, the toad just looked aghast and covered up his private parts).

We’ll have to add “Build Wildlife Haven” to our construction to do list now.

We left the plot with a new air of satisfied calm – the shed roof was repaired before the rains returned and the shed interior began to take shape as the “Room of One’s Own Mug” returns to it’s rightful centre stage spot in the prized construction.

When we first signed up for the plot, the good ladies of the committee informed us that we wouldn’t be able to install a shed until we had proved ourselves for a full year. That and the absence of running water almost amounted to a deal breaker but I was keen to start the plot transfer before the growing season kicked in and hoped we might be able to broker a shed deal in the New Year.

Last week we were rather overjoyed when a steady stream of committee members paid a visit and then offered us first dibs on an abandoned shed. It proved to be a rather smashing shed, probably a 7′ x 5′, half painted and yet completely draft proofed with expanding foam.

Roll on this weekend and the perfectly planned visit from Reg, shed builder extraordinaire, aka Lynn’s Dad.

I’ve done shed transplanting before and found it to be extremely stressful, so to be fair, if Reg were to come up with a suggestion that even hinted at making life easier, regardless of the comedy factor, I was going to jump at it.

And so it was when Lynn arrived back. Reg had constructed a sedan chair par excellence. Having unscrewed the floor all we had to do was enter the shed, close the doors, take the strain and walk it straight off it’s foundations along the road and onto our plot.

There were a good few people on the site that Friday morning but I have to give them credit, not one single digger looked up to gaze at the apparition of a walking shed. Maybe these things are commonplace in Norbury.

It was a heavy job and my forearms are still screaming but it was the most satisfactory construction project I’ve been involved with to date. In 3 hours only we had shifted the shed, mounted it on a level surface of bricks and pavers and completed the painting job.

Three cheers for Reg who came up with the bright idea and managed to sell it to a pair of doubting Thomases who ended up being extremely grateful for a job well done.

There was enough time left over for the more usual allotment chores such as digging, paving, planting and muck spreading. I’ve just set out a few herb plants between these paving slabs to provide an aromatic division between the beds and Lynn has prepared the holes ready for the fruit trees that we can shift across next week.

We decided to show mercy to our remaining forks by building raised beds in the concrete zone and filling them with the soft crumbly mound of compost piled high in the Clampett’s yard section of the plot.

Lynn spent the best part of two days trying to clear this area of unmentionable cruddiness. Hundreds of decaying carrier bags billowed up like a detritus confetti shower when the grim piles of stained carpet were hauled away.

The strawberries were collected from around the plot, pretty much the only surviving plants from the previous tenant. They are temporarily in situ, awaiting arrival of the fruit trees and weed suppressant fabric when they will go back in for good.

The whole nasty little job brightened our lives somewhat when the second depressing mound was cleared to reveal this stash of treats. We’ve got Victorian edging stones and classy looking paving slabs just waiting to transform our plot into something very special. What a find!

I’ve already gone mad with my seed catalogues and can see my completely frivolous purchase of three assorted crowns of rhubarb sitting quite at home in a geometric bed of terracotta tiles.

I’ve started digging in the second bed and it was considerably easier than expected. It was clumpy clay soil but at least I could get my fork in and out without requiring a trip to Homebase with my receipt.

Two rows of garlic have gone in and maybe the broad beans will join them next week.

The results of 3 weekends labouring are mapped out on the images below, top row showing the view from the bottom of the plot and the bottom row shows the top down view:

I spent most of those hours pottering in the greenhouse we resurrected on our last visit. It’s just about hanging on in there but looks like a very well worn teddy, complete with stitching and bandages – I don’t think I’ll manage to squeeze another season out of the plastic covering.

I banked all the sides up (inside and out) with old and new grow bags to try and protect it from the ravages of the wind and then set to, planting 15 assorted tomato plants and experimenting with an array of self-watering gadgetry and fancy supports.

The first watering system I tried out was the “Growtube” but my bottle reservoir just evacuated its contents within the space of about 45 seconds and resulted in most of the contents of the grow bag spewing over the sides. I was reasonably happy with the alternative bottle attachment you can see in the right hand side of this photo. It at least held the water for the 5 hours I was watching it. So long as it hasn’t got a permanent blockage I shall be happy.

While I was sweltering under the polythene, Lynn was out in the open, constructing stuff that actually has some sturdiness about it.

The plot won’t know what hit it.

We now have a bean support system that doesn’t look as though it will crack under the weight of the first two pods, a peculiarly creative broad bean “thingy” and a stretch of wind break that will offer further protection to the rapidly decaying greenhouse.

I’m feeling quite happy with the plot at the moment. We seem to have got on top of the situation and set ourselves up for a good growing season.

The challenge now will be to keep on top of the watering and find enough space, that hasn’t already been colonised by the ubiquitous onion sets, to grow actual food. I’ve got 12 squash seedlings in the greenhouse but have no clue of where to put them, perhaps I need to get myself on the waiting list for a second, dedicated, squash plot.

I got a few really helpful comments to my last post, it seems both Easygardener and Kethry have learnt hard lessons with similar contraptions. Just to confirm, the frame is slightly submerged under the soil as is the excess polythene and I have now weighted this down further with a grow bag on each side. There are also 4 guy ropes attempting to hold the whole thing together and a number of clips holding the polythene to the frame.

Although it sounds super secure, I spent a bit of time in there today rearranging all the young plants from the front room nursery and gave myself one hell of a fright everytime one of the high speed trains whizzed past. The whole contraption feels as though it rises a couple of inches from the ground and then slams back down again. All the clips seem to pop off the frame as this happens and I’ve already retrieved 6 from the pond. If I had a bit more space I’d be tempted to go around the outside and bank the sides with growbags as well.

I’ve made the mental note to dismantle it before winter and if its still usable come next year I’ll locate it away from the railway line.

It is going to be much more of a hassle to deal with the opening and closing of the door. I’ve left it closed for now as I want to ease the plants gently into life outside, I’m thinking to nip to the plot tomorrow though and open it. From then on in I’m hoping it will be ok to leave the door permanently open. I’ve clearly got a lot to learn about undercover gardening.

My seedlings have been going crazy in Shakti’s front room nursery, the beans are threatening to smother everything in sight and the tomatoes need staking. None of these things go well with toddler sized birthday parties so they need to go. Not wanting to shock them into submission with an immediate relocation to the outside world, I’ve been hunting down one of those mini greenhouse affairs to act as a coldframe. I spotted something even better from Wilkinsons though, a full on walk-in greenhouse complete with staging for £40.

Considerable rearranging was required to squeeze it onto the plot. The compost bins were pushed to the corner shaded by the hideous ivy which seems like the best spot for them considering nothing else will grow there except for slugs. More problematic was the wigwam I planted up last weekend with some 7 year old experimental peas. It’s quite a palaver trying to retrieve ungerminated green orbs from a patch of soggy soil.

Given my unchallenged bodging tendencies, I’m quite surprised but pleased to say, the greenhouse went up relatively well. It only has one little tear in the polythene and I’m sure that existed before I took it out of the box. I’ve piled the edges up with soil, staked, pegged, clipped and tied down anything threatening to flap and if it’s still there tomorrow morning I may well do a little jig.

I’m going to plant the tomatoes in grow bags around the base – anything to try and keep the structure anchored, and I think the chilli peppers and aubergines will be overjoyed.

Before the construction started we (I had Shakti’s help today) transplanted the greyhound cabbages from the seed bed and sowed a row of yellow french beans. We also managed to acquire a load of broken paving slabs from the site skip and have a veritable highway laid out between beds. Unfortunately the new compost bin and greenhouse layout, blocks all access to the bottom of the plot. I haven’t a cat in hells chance of accessing the peas if they decide to crop.

We left with a sack of multi-coloured delights for tea – Ruby Chard, Broad Bean tips and some of the overwintered onions.

How long could it take to install a single span of guttering? To give the game away right from the start, it took me 3 hours and as I left the guttering was propped up on the inside of the shed, thereby serving absolutely no use whatsoever. Perhaps a few more hours tomorrow will see the task complete.

I started by siting the butt at the back of the shed, leveling the ground and preparing a raised support, then I had to repeat the whole process at the other side of the shed as someone had seen fit to install a flippin birdbox slap in the middle of my guttering route. I intended to put the gutter with a slight downward slope so that the water just trickles into the butt without the need for fancy attachments and downpipes but my first attempt failed at the first hurdle – the roof overhang went beyond my guttering and the rain just slipped over the edge.

Batons were sourced and cut to force the guttering out beyond the overhang but then I had a problem with my screws – too short – too long – the usual. I got a bit knarked and started hammering the screws and a few nails until walloped my finger with a direct blow. I wanted to hop, scream and swear like a lunatic but an audience had assembled on the overlooking platform. I had to smile and take cover in the shed until I could cope with the throbbing finger. It also gave me the opportunity to retrieve all the items scattered on the floor after my banging frenzy.

I regained my composure and finished the job off, slid the guttering into the brackets and went in search of some water to test the trajectory. Still with an audience I poured a bottle of water into the middle of the guttering only to be welcomed with a splattering sound at the wrong end – someone installed the shed on a flipping slope. You just can’t get the workmen these days!

Off to Homebase again to buy an end piece for the guttering so that the water gets directed back in the right direction. Guttering apparently works with some impossible connection that took 3 beefy guys from the customer service section to be able to break into. I was sent off with the suggestion that I loosen up the rubber with some hot water and washing up liquid. I needed a cuppa tea anyway so just chucked the end piece into some boiling water on the trangia. When I remembered to fish it out again it looked a little on the overcooked side and rather twisted out of shape. No hope that it would fit on the end in the designed fashion. Not to be outdone I opened up my tub of bitumen and smeared great dollops around both ends of the pipe. So now its propped inside the shed, hopefully drying into super sturdy water proof seal. We’ll see tomorrow.

Although I am clearly the worlds worst DIY’er I can console myself with being probably the worlds best cabbage grower. I dug up one of my monsters today and had to utilise the bike trailer to get it home.

I’m sure Norris McWhirter would be interested in this photo.