Pickled damsons

The damsons here will be ripe soon. Last year we made damson pickle and damson jam. We also experimented with drying the fruit, after removing the stones.

Dried damsons

We used a non-stick tray and a very low oven to dry the damsons and, a year on, the fruit is still good today. We have planted more stone fruit trees, and are starting to propagate various berry bushes, so we'll likely buy a dehydrator for the job in the future. This will be useful for drying herbs too.

The dried damsons can be reconstituted with boiling water and soaking for use in baking, but they're also good to pop in the mouth like sweets.

Damson pickle

This is the recipe we used for damson pickle. It's an old one, passed on by a local lady some years ago (we halved the quantities):

8 lbs damsons
6 lbs sugar
1/2 oz cloves
1/4 oz cinnamon
1 quart vinegar

First day
Take good ripe damsons and prick well.
Boil vinegar and sugar and spices together and pour over the damsons.

Second day
Pour off the liquid and boil it again. Pour over damsons.

Third day
Repeat process, and if the damsons are not soft, boil all together for a minute or two.

Eat straight away or leave for a month or more to mature. Pickled damsons are great with snacks, just as you'd use any pickle; and the liquid in the jar is delicious and fortifying to drink.

Damson jam

Damson jam is probably the tastiest fruit jam out. It has a lovely strong dark-fruit flavour.

We use the simple recipe of 4 lbs of damsons to 4 lbs of sugar and a 1/4 pint of water.

Boil it all up and stir. Squash the damsons against the side of the pan to remove the stones. Skim the stones off as they collect on the surface.

By the time you've removed all the stones, the jam will be about ready. You can check by seeing how the jam on the pile of stones has set.

Toad

Discovered under a duckboard.

Parasol mushroom

Shaggy surface of parasol mushroom.

Underside.

Growing alone in the field, one solitary parasol mushroom. These are delicious to eat, and very nice stuffed, if you can catch them before they open.

There's more info on them, including recipes, here.
(This is an excellent resource for wild food recipes.)

Iridescence

Fly on yarrow flowers.

Quince flower and fruit

Beautiful aren't they, furry too. This is the first year this tree has flowered, and fruited. So, apart from admiring them, we haven't settled on an end use yet (there are only three fruits this year, though).

Wild strawberry

We have these lovely little strawberries all over the place and they fruit right through the summer. They were started some years ago, grown in a pot by seven-year-old Alex from a packet of seeds. Since then they've multiplied themselves both with runners and with seeds in bird droppings.

Interesting note: Perfectly-shaped strawberries are created only if every single ovary has been pollinated by an insect. (Info here.)

Docks

With fields left fallow all around, it could be expected that we would be troubled with docks growing everywhere. We tried a remedy that we'd read somewhere: that was to cut the dock down to a stump and pour boiling vinegar on the stump. We think it worked, but there are so many that this method isn't practical. They've just got to be pulled up or dug up.

That's not to say it's nature's fault alone that we've got as many as we have. We've been quite happily using the soil from molehills around the garden, without being aware that:

A large mature broad-leaved dock can produce up to 60,000 ripe seeds per year.

Dock seed numbers in soil have been estimated at 5 million per acre. The seeds contain a chemical that inhibits microbial decay and are capable of surviving in undisturbed soil for over 50 years.

Info here.

So, the soil we had been using, fetched up by the moles, is full of dock seeds. And you need to pull the dock seedlings up before their long tap root is established, for then you'll need to dig it up. But if you leave a part of the root behind, it will grow again.

In The Poacher, H E Bates writes of an agricultural labourer in Victorian times pulling docks:

Towards the end of May, before the corn was too high, the docks had to be pulled. The men worked with hooked sticks of ash or hazel, using the hooks to lever under the forks of the dock-roots. The docks had to be uprooted unbroken, to the last tip of hair root. And periodically Thompson came into the field in order to watch and see that that was done. He would walk up and down the rows behind the men, watching but not speaking, like a guard in charge of a working party of prisoners. The men were silent too, pulling up the docks and throwing them aside, into the osier corn-skips, without a murmur. Thompson walked only a yard or two behind the men, so that eventually, when a man broke off a dock too short, he would be near enough to kick him in the back.

One afternoon Luke broke a dock short, leaving the root half in the earth, and Thompson, standing just behind, kicked him. Luke fell heavily on his knees and hands among the corn. The blow from Thompson's foot seemed terrific. and for a moment or two he could not get up. While he lay there Thompson kicked him again.

'Get up,' he said, 'can't you?'

Luke got up. He was dazed and could not see Thompson clearly.

'Get it out clean,' said Thompson.

Luke looked round for his stick.

'Get it out,' Thompson repeated.

The stick lay a yard or two up the rows and as Luke bent forward to pick it up Thompson aimed another kick at him.

'Now get it up,' he said.

Luke half-knelt among the corn and began to uproot the dock again, his back turned away from Thompson. He felt curiously weak, submissive. The kick had knocked the spirit out of him. He worked at the dock mechanically, conscious of nothing but the pain in his buttocks and his fear of Thompson standing over him. He scratched the dry earth with his hands, like a dog, in order to find where the root had broken off, yellow, under the surface. All the time Thompson stood over him, saying nothing. It was only when the thin spear of dock-root had been pulled out that Thompson spoke again.

'Now you know,' he said.

Luke said nothing.

'Don't you? Answer me.'

'Yes.'

'Then take care you don't forget.'

But docks are pretty, too. They go through a range of colours as they die, from green to red to yellow to brown.

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Later...

It seems that the only way to deal with docks in the veg growing areas is to dig them out whenever they appear and rot them down in a plastic bag. The residue can be returned to the garden via the compost heap; so nothing is lost and, hopefully, the docks will not grow again.

But, thinking about it, it seems that if a plant has such a strong grip on survival, maybe it's got something we could benefit from. There's a couple of videos by Frank Cook, here, that discuss the edibility of dock and the benefits of the root.

After watching these, I researched Frank Cook and was shocked to discover that he had died. This is his obituary.

Weed seed

Old country saying -

"One year's seeds is seven years' weeds."

In other words, if your weeds start flowering, you'd better deal with them before they turn to seed.

August evening

Shropshire scene, yesterday evening.

Mulch

Of all methods of soil husbandry, mulching seems to offer the most benefits: stifling of weeds, moisture retention in the soil and supply of nutrients, as well as a continuous improvement in soil structure. But building up a system of compost-making sufficient for an all-over annual mulch will take some time and some trial and error.

We started by following the method given by Lee Reich in his book Weedless Gardening. He describes the use of layers of newspaper sheets to stifle weeds, with a mulch on top of that.

Having no compost for the mulch, we started with bags of bought bark mulch. and, following the method given in the book, we raked the soil and laid newspaper over the top, several sheets thick, then spread three inches of the mulch over that. The idea being that the newspaper will stifle the weeds and, with the mulch, help to retain moisture in the soil.

Laying newspapers, and bark mulch on top.

The finished mulch. The paths have been marked with cedar bark chips.

Onion growing through the mulch.

We planted seedlings through the mulch and had a fairly successful year. The coarse bark mulch was probably something of a nuisance, in that it provided a great place for slugs and other pests to hide, for the seedlings were much attacked that year.

A slow-worm seeks slugs in the mulch.

The newspaper laid on the soil surface certainly smothered most of the weeds and grasses, but the mulch picked up many wind and bird borne seeds, so that over the course of a year or so the newspaper had completely broken down and new weeds were growing in the soil.

The most successful mulch fabric we have used is a black woven material (not the plastic one, nor the elastic one), which has so far lasted two to three years in the flower beds.

It's possible that the reason the newspaper method didn't work for us, after the first year, was that we're in a rural area and assailed by masses of seeds from the trees and fields around. The black fabric mulch has been successful on the flower beds, but these are perennial plants, so there's no disturbance of the soil surface as there is in the vegetable garden.

The bark we used for mulching, though less expensive than many, was a strange material. There was bark in there, but also other pieces of wood and many strange and varied bits of rubbish:

Some of the contents of the bark mulch.

My best guess is that, along with bark, old furniture has been mashed up, and all the detritus that old drawers and cupboards collect had come with it.

Putting up panel fencing

We put up a fence to give some shelter from the wind on this corner of the field, and to make a sun-facing 'wall' to plant fruit trees and bushes against.

Panel fencing

Panel fencing is fairly straightforward to put up if you use the bags of ready-mixed post-fixing concrete. It can be done by one person, as I did. The only essential in doing it solo is to knock a length of timber into the ground at an angle as a prop, and nail it temporarily to the post to keep the post upright and steady in the hole whilst you pack it in with rubble (broken brick) and add the concrete mix.

Remove the prop, unless you can use the ground behind the fence; in which case, cut the top of the prop off at the requisite angle, push it round to the back of the post and nail it on. I do this for the extra support and because the prop is already there, almost in position.

A method:

1. Fix the first post in the ground. Dig the hole for the second post in its approximate position.

2. Fix the first panel to the first post, using bricks or blocks to support the other end of the panel.

3. Put the second post in its hole. Fix the post in position and fasten the fence panel to it.

Repeat steps 2 and 3 for each subsequent panel.

If you're on a slope as we are, you'll have to ensure you buy posts long enough to allow for the drop as you go down the steeper parts of the slope.

We painted the fence with Cuprinol Heritage Shades, Old English Green colour, to help blend it in to the background.

Three summers later, the plants against the fence are doing well. This grape vine now reaches across three panels and has a lot of grapes on it.

Wire fencing

We put up a post and wire fence around the vegetable patch, with a gate at each end. These are put-it-together-yourself gates bought over the internet. Fence and gates were not absolutely necessary, but they add to the ambience of the garden, giving it a cottage garden feel, and they help to protect it, though from what we weren't totally sure.

We wanted old-style garden gates, strong enough for kids to swing on and with latches that latch themselves shut when you swing the door closed.

We did later discover the fence's value when we were invaded by hungry lambs from a neighbouring field.

The type of fencing we used was square mesh, 4 feet wide with a 1" mesh gap. This made the job fairly easy and is good to look at.

Confusing feet and metres, we mistakenly bought three rolls (as can be seen in one of the photos above) where one roll would have done. As things have turned out, this mistake has proven useful, allowing us to easily construct a four-feet high and wide pen and temporary run to house six orphaned ducks we had to take care of in a hurry. (seen here.)

A vegetable garden from a piece of field

We made the vegetable garden from a plot in the corner of a field.

First dig

In the autumn of 2007, the turf of the field was strimmed, then dug over, with the turf turned and buried.

The first row was dug out a spade deep and placed aside, and the second row turned, turf-side down, into that trench. and then each successive row turned into the trench before it, so that the turf was buried. The soil was left over winter to break up in the frosts and snow.

The pear tree on the left of the picture, which gives good pears, was twice its height and didn't look like it could take a hard storm, so we had the top taken off.

We bought a shredder to shred the debris from the tree lopping, hoping to use this for mulch, but it's slow work with a domestic shredder such as this. However the resulting chips are good as coarse material for layering on the compost heap, and it saves having to waste branches and woody stalks by burning.

Pot marigold orange

The pleasures of fennel

Our beautiful fennel plant. It's about 6 feet tall. This is common fennel. The fennel that has the broad, bulbous base that's eaten as a vegetable is Florence fennel.

Hoverfly on fennel flowers.

We love fennel here. My seven-year old granddaughter and I pop a few seeds in our mouth from time to time for the pleasure of the aniseed taste and the mouth-refreshing effect. If we're out in the garden, we'll often chew a frond of the leaves or a few of the small flowers. Fennel seeds are good for the digestion. They can be chewed or drunk as a tea infusion. Fennel is rich in vitamin A and contains calcium, phosphorus and potassium.

These fat, juicy undried seeds are our favourite to chew, though they do taste quite strong.

Occasionally, I like to break up a few seeds with my nails and sprinkle them on top of tobacco in a cigarette, for an aniseed-scented smoke. I remember some cigarettes years ago, I think they were Malayan, that had cloves in them with the tobacco. They were an interesting and pleasant smoke too.

I already knew that mullein was a common ingredient in herbal tobaccos, but to learn more about what herbs can be smoked, I bought the book, 'Smoke Plants of North America' by M R Ross, about the plants smoked by the Indians. There's a recipe for a smoking mixture with fennel seeds, with hops, mullein, skullcap, damiana and mint. I haven't tried this mixture, but it seems an interesting one. The author says of it that she loves "the heavy, sensual calming effect of the hops and skullcap together. Hops has a funny smell kind of like ripe cheese, but it smokes with a nice flavor and no aftertaste."

A 'warrior' garden layout

The kitchen garden layout makes an icon of a warrior with spear.

The layout started this way because of a bench positioned at the side of the garden, and the dozens of self-seeded pot marigolds from last year that were sprouting up all over the garden.

We didn't want to lose the marigolds, and did want to make the view from the bench the best in the garden. We transplanted all the marigolds to a semicircle in front of the bench, so that in full bloom there would be a mass or orange right in front (orange is said to be a healing colour). Also, and this was the original reason for them being there, marigolds are a good companion plant in the vegetable garden; grown around tomatoes and peppers to repel black and green flies.

Pot marigold extract is widely used in cosmetics. Calendula officinalis (pot marigold) ointment is used in the treatment of skin disorders, for pain, and as an antiseptic. Also, pot marigold petals sre good in salads.

We flattened a path around the marigold semicircle, and made another one up from it to the edge of the garden, as well as another right across the patch.

A lot of potatoes, still buried from last year (though I dug the garden over well), were growing, so we moved them all into a patch over on one side.

We made another, smaller, semicircle at the top, cut through by the path, and planted wheat, bought as duck feed, and red poppies (for a mini meadow or mini 'fields of Flanders').

We had proposed to harvest the wheat, grind it and make bread (with the poppy seed on top) - all as an experiment. We intended, also, to be baking the bread in an earth oven that we've made. But too much rain, and too-close planting, damaged the crop, so it'll have to be done next year.

The garden was planted with seedlings we had grown on in the greenhouse, as well as seeds planted directly in the garden. The seeds we used were from a variety of sources: some collected from last year's crops, a few packets bought in sales and some seeds left in packets bought last year - a miscellany. The idea was to use up any seeds we had around before buying any new ones, and even then to leave it up to fate a bit, seeing what presented itself in a sale, or stuck on a gardening magazine cover.

We used a few seeds collected from last year and were well-pleased with the results, so we've bought some brown paper bags off ebay, and are collecting seeds when they're ready on the plants.

This is how the planting was laid out:

Planting started.

One month ago.

Today.

Once more, a photo of the lovely 'Black Magic' sunflower.