Still cold

I am not getting anything thing done on my plot at the moment. Getting the new allotments is taking up all my free daylight hours at the weekend. This weekend I had to demolish the old fence that divided the old plot from what was the plantation and is now the new allotments. Since last weekend when we got the rabbit fencing up there was no way into the new area without climbing a fence. It only took an hour so to get the rails off and stacked and pull out the uprights. Most of the time was taken up with cutting the rabbit netting off the bottom rail.

Pete turned up and back filled the foot of the rabbit fence which was wet and sloppy work. I cut back the top of the posts and now the fencing is complete. I still have the remnants of my cold and being out in the cold had me huffing, puffing, coughing and spluttering.

Sunday was very cold again and I was exhausted from Saturday. I ran Lucy to work then did a few jobs round the garden at home and a few jobs in the house. I still have to work out how to support the step over Apple tree and how to prune it. One on roof panes in the Greenhouse is broken and it is the most awkward position. I managed to repair the spare PC and re-jigged the house PC. I even managed to fit a part on the cooker.

H came back from her night out with the Rothchilds' ladies. We went up the lottie to get some veg and for H to have a look at the work I had done on the new area. We also had a look over the ex-coal board area which is adjacent to the Societys' plots and has been reclaimed and landscaped over the past few months. The contractors finish in a week or so.

P - P - parky

This weekend was the working party that was arranged at the AGM. The posts where in. Steve got some of the rabbit netting and all of the wire. Stuart donated wire ties, 3000 in fact. Pete, Maria and Judith joined Steve and myself in the fog at the plot. There was two legs of fencing to do. We had to dig out 45 metres of trench on the first leg, only 6inches wide and a couple of inches deep. We got on the with the job even though it was only 2 degrees. It only took 40 minutes to finish the trench. Steve and Pete wrestled the strand wire off the roll and offered it up to the posts. I stapled the wire to the posts. When the wire was strung and tensioned I crimped the wire to the posts. Next off the Rabbit netting. Steve rolled it out. Maria, Pete and Judith wrestled the netting into place and tagged the netting the top wire with the wire ties. I stapled on the netting at the posts. We managed to get the netting pretty straight and taut between us. Steve, Pete and I set off stringing the wire and hanging the netting along the second leg whist the nimbled fingered ladies tagged the netting to the wires at foot intervals and trimming off the excess length of tie.

The ground was less regular on leg two and the sun was heading for the horizon. We strung the wire and rolled out the netting. There was insufficient to finish the leg. I had to go the shop for another roll of netting and more staples. We rolled out the netting and tagged it to the top wire. It was clear that there would be insufficient time to complete the fixing of the netting so we left the netting hanging of the top wire. Maria was very quiet. I walked round to see what she was up too. She had completed all the ties and had started back filling the trench. By the time it was too dark to work we had completed leg one and strung all the strand wire, including the two free wires above the netting along both leg one and two and hung the netting on leg two. A lot of work done in four hours.

I went back back on Sunday morning to finished off leg two by excavating a trench, burying the foot of the netting, back filling the trench and pinning the wire to the posts. Someone else can do the tie wiring.

H and I went to the plot late on Sunday afternoon to see what had been keeping me away from the house and to see the works Thones had done on the old coal depot next to the allotment. We had a good walk round. The fencing look good even though it is a bit wonky here and there. The old coal site is getting the end stage. The pond, paths and landscaping is finished at the top end of the site. It looks great.

Despite the cold I manged to get through three changes of clothes because they were soaked through with sweat......nice!

Ticking along

The clocks have gone back and it gets dark at 4 o'clock. Last week it had been raining on and off all week which left the ground sloppy mud. Steve and DaveP and I had decided that we had to put up the Rabbit fencing round the new allotment area. before we can move on. We did not have the wire but we did have the posts. Dave P and Steve got the posts ready. We took it in turns to whack the posts in with the rammer, 24 in total. The weather stayed dry but the clay "soil" made it hard to get the posts in and slippy under foot but we managed. Dave P lost most of the skin of his hands. I lent him my gloves which helped him through to the end.

The contractors had dug a trench a weeks ago for the transplanted trees which are to form part of the boundary. We found the trees but the trench was two foot deep in water. We dropped the trees is and whilst Dave P and Steve back filled the trench I cut a gutter to let the water drain out. Half and hour we had the trees in and water out.

It was the Society's AGM on Friday just gone. There was a lot of work to do to get everything ready for the meeting. The meeting was along one this time, more than two hours, but that is a measure of the developments of the Society. I was going to do a bit today but it was very wintery, a light dusting of snow over night, and cold showers all day. In the end I did the AGM minutes instead and ordered my seeds for next year. So that is another years over Society-wise. Roll on Christmas!

Apples, apples everywhere

This weekend has been Apples pressing weekend. Steve got the press on Friday evening and dropped it off at my house together with the hand cranked apple pulper. We arranged to meet Saturday, early afternoon. On Saturday morning I got everything ready. I arranged the work area. The shed is at one end of the production line. See the picture below. It gives the reason I did not want to move the apples. The shed was full of them.

Just outside the shed door to I set the table up to rough chop the apples; at the end of the table a dustbin with the apple pulper perched on the top, then the apples press itself secured to the work bench, in front of the press a series of empty fermenting bins to catch the juice. Everyone I talked to said the weather was going to wet so I set up the two garden umbrellas, one over the table and the other over the press. I got everything washed down and sterilised and sat back to wait for Steve.



I just had time to finish my brew when Steve turned up. Steve had a few Apples in his car [see the adjacent picture] Between us we reckoned we about a tonne. This year we had more cookers than dessert Apples so we hope for a more interesting brew.

Steve took up station at the press and I the chopping/pulping table. Off we went, the apple pile did not seem to go down very quickly but we got into a rhythm. Same trouble as last year though. With just one press we could not leave the pressing squeezing the apples until we had all the juice. As it was we ending up with 14 gallons a piece. So no shortage of apple juice.

H made Pumpkin soup for a late lunch. We went back to pulping and pressing. At 4pm the lights went on. yet more pressing. At 7.30pm we stopped for dinner [Lemon chicken and roast veg] then continued until 10pm. However the job was not complete. Just before dinner I took the bags pressed and spent pulp to the lottie:
A. To free up the bags and buckets for the next session
B. The top up the compost bins. It makes a great activator.

We had sunshine, light showers, heavy showers and wind building up to a gale all evening. We had emptied the shed of all the my apples and refilled it with Steve's contribution. We even got through a few trays of Apples before we called a halt. We arranged to meet the next day and finish off the remaining nine trays and so it was. Steve came about 10am and we were finished and cleaned up by 1pm.

All we have to decide now is what we are going to do with our juice.

Not About Heros

The weather was against me on Sunday last, although I got some small jobs sorted and did a bit on the bike [check the BM blog for details] and I had commitments on Saturday so no allotmenting was done that day either. I did have an interesting outing on Friday evening with H. We and our friends went to the Sir John Moore Foundation at Appleby Magna to see a touring production "Not about heroes". It was a play about first world war poet Wilfred Owen and his time in an Edinburgh hospital for the shell shocked. There he met his hero, Siegfried Sassoon, who was there for his "nerves". In fact he was in hospital more for views on the war. H was seriously moved by the performance. Me much less so. I did not understand where the narrative stopped and the poems started or visa versa. I got a book of Wilf's poems and then it began to make sense. I read them few times over and only now am I beginning to understand their meaning. It was poignant to know that he was killed in the last weeks of the war, his parents receiving the telegram on Armistice Day, his poems where published by his friends after his death. It has added weight at this time of year.

I am wrote this installment of the blog on Tuesday evening from my apartment in Canary Wharf. I was down there to a meeting and another all day session the next day. So it was with great pleasure I got an email from The Chairman of the lottie to say our friendly contractors, Thornes, had completed preparing the allotment extension. Now I can not wait to get back to survey the scene. Steve say the area looks enormous. It looks like me might have stirred up the Rabbit population too. Now we only have to sort out fencing, paths, car parks and water...oh and the small matter of several hundred tonnes of top soil.

It is the Society's AGM in a few weeks so preparations are underway for this annual event. There might not be any allotmenting next week either. It is Apple pressing weekend. Despite not trying very hard we have somewhere close a a tonne of apples in the shed to press. I popped out for an hour on Sunday to have a look at Donisthorpe Orchard. I though I might pick up a few last windfall Apples. Steve had the same idea. We got some very nice apples and lots of them. The nicest are a Russett type but I have no idea what variety. Imagine the size of a potato sack and multiply by four and gives you an idea of how many apples I picked. It was nice to be outside given the week I had had and what was before me for this week.

Winter has broken out

The clock went back at the weekend. Suddenly the weather has turned cold. Cloudless skys gives a hard frost and we had the first proper crispy frost overnight on the Tuesday 28th. Some people locally had snow. We just had a bit of sleet. It be interesting to see what state the soil is in at the weekend.

Over exercised

I have been on holiday this past week. I got about a bit, visiting suppliers that I would not normally get a chance to visit. It was nice to get about the countryside without being under pressure to be somewhere. I managed spend some time at the lottie. I dug lot of bed 2 but managed to strain the muscles of my lower back. Bit of a bugger really. The back is feeling much better by today so much so that I did the poo trailer run as normal.

I haver tidied up the green house and potted up some Buddliea that had self set in the front garden. I shall leave the back garden until after Christmas when the plants are truly dormant and then give everything a pruning. I dug out the dead annuals from the front garden and with H direction planted a load of bulbs, of different sorts, for the spring.

H and I have been busy making Chutney's of one sort or another. There has been a lot of pie making as well. We were given a very large number of Bramley apples. It seems a bit short sighted just to crush them all for juice. I have yet to make some Mint jelly. Surprising as it may seem but you need apples for that too.

Biting Wind

The last few weeks were a over shadowed by having to give notice to one of the Society members. It has been on the cards for ages but it is never a nice things to do but now it is done things can move on. The year has turned in the past week. Most of the trees are dressed for Autumn and the wind has an edge to it.

I went the lottie as usual on Saturday and manged to harvest various crops; another Red Cabbage for pickling, some Hispi, some Leeks which although quite small are very tasty and some very odd looking carrots. H came with me just to get out of the house. H tweaked her back a few weeks ago and means she has had a hard time sleeping and that of course affects everything else. She is feeling better by the day so healing is taking place. Under H's direction I bagged what was required. I dug up the remaining early spring sown Carrots, but they were a disaster. They had all split and peeled open. That is because they were not kept watered. However the ones planted late summer are smashing. I planted a globe shape variety. They are sweet and about the size of a gobstopper. They went in whole in to Sunday's stew. I dug up a few of the late crop just to see how they were doing. Very well is the answer. They still have to bulk up but they are nice and straight and without Carrot fly damage. Whatever the herb was a planted with the carrot has deterred the carrot fly. I am trying to remember, I think it was Coriander. I did not like the smell of it and neither did the dreaded carrot fly. So there is a lesson from 2008.

The Pumpkins are ready. I tried to move the vine to tidy it up but it just came off the fruit, ergo it is ready. We have plenty of Pumpkin. Nine in fact. All about a foot across and 5 to 6 pounds in weight. Since the clean up last week the Grape vines are very prominent. I had a good look at them. I still have to work out how to train them.

I went round to my friend Gloria and picked a load of her Apples. They are a bit beat up but should do for crushing. The shed is stuffed with trays and sacks of Apples. There is a fruity, fermenting small about the place. There is still the Salsify to harvest and eat. It is also called Oyster plant because of it taste. I think I will have to have an experiment before it goes on the table before the ladies of the house. I have not been brave enough to dig up one of the Japanese Burdock. I have found recipes for it on the t'interweb. I figure it will over winter until I have time to mess about.

I have this week off, if the weather allows, there will be digging at the allotment.

Harvest time

It is a busy ole time. Crops to harvest, hedgerow fossicking to do and making of preserves to say nothing of winter digging and general cleaning up of the plot. I have even looked at my back garden yet. The Green house is full a Tomatoes, all green, green tomato chutney anyone?

I harvested the remaining Sweet Corn yesterday and the outdoor Cucumber as well as the butternut squash. I bagged a couple of handfulls of Carrots and a nice head a cabbage. I got another Red cabbage for pickling. H has promise Lancashire hotpot which which you can not have without pickled red cabbage. It is a rule. I dug up the Caulis. The curds where really small, about the size of the your fist. They will go for Piccalilli. I cleaned the weeds up as a cleared the cauli. Slowly but surely the cabbage bed is being turned over. This bed is the root bed next year so it is due for a deep dig in the spring. The rain which weathermen promised, started on cue which put an end to Saturdays outdoor activities.

I got to the lottie early on Sunday. The morning was beautiful and it continued to be sunny and hot all day. Pete, my lottie neighbour, was there before me. He had got a bonfire going so I got a chance to burn off off the rubbish that is too tough or seedy for the compost bin. I even got rid of a couple manky pallets and other combustible bits and pieces. I managed to plant out the Savoy cabbage seedling which became very leggy from sitting in the greenhouse too long. I took down the bean frame and stowed the poles for the winter. I considered the "X" frame an improvement over the traditional "A" frame or wigwam so I will be doing that again next year. I think I will try proper bean/pea trench this winter to see if I can improve the crop. This year was all rush so I just threw the seeds in the ground and left them to it. I did not even have the time do proper pea sticks and the yield suffered. However if a I can catch the mice they should be quite porky having stuffed themselves with my Broad Beans and Peas. The Pumpkin are looking magnificent. Let hope nothing happens to them before the end of the month.

Now that the Bean patch is cleared I can see the Grape vines clearly. They look great. They must be at least six feet tall. I have to read my books to work out how to prune them to train them along the wires. No rush though, they have not died back yet. I will better able to see the stems once the leaves have fallen.

There have been developments at the lottie which is like having a weight taken off my shoulders. Still lots to do before Christmas. Most of which I dare not speak about in case I jinx it.

I got back later from the lottie and had to go straight out. I missed lunch so it was a good job I had had a big breakfast. I found a Butcher in Swadlincote that make very good Black Pudding. It is made with course cut fat which makes a very pleasant addition to my Sunday morning breakfast plate.

The Year is Turning

In the last few days the clues that tell you that year is turning are adding up. Firstly we have had the Statues Fair in Ashby. A fair comes to town about the second weekend in September for four days. They set up the length of Market Street, arriving overnight Thursday. On day the street is a busy thoroughfare the next it is a Fair. It stays like that until the Sunday night where upon it disappears for another year.


Another clue is the thick mists associated with the slow moving high pressure zones at this time of year. The fog, it is thicker than a mist, burns off when the sun gets going but not until at least 10.30 or 11am. The overnight temperature is beginning to drop. The leaves of the Pumpkins are susceptible to the cold and very soon start to wither revealing the orange pumpkins that have been growing in the shade of the leaves. It is a bit of a surprise as what you get in the Pumpkin line. Often you get more than you think because one is lurking and you have missed it when checking the plants. Same goes for the French beans except the pods are green. All of a sudden the bean frame is covered with pods that were invisible a few weeks ago.

The final clues is the pleading from the females of the house that it is cold in the evenings. H's nose is the barometer. When it is cold she tries to stick it in my neck to warm it up. I always try to hold out starting the boiler until the 1st of October but it is a vain hope.

All the spuds are in

No blogs last week because I had to up early Monday to go to head office in London. It is a 5am start so early to bed on Sunday. Last Sunday turned out nice which allowed me to get the remainder of the main crop spuds "Cara" harvested. It has been quite dry and I was worried that the soil would be solid making harvesting heavy work. I should not have worried. The soil was quite friable. H left me to it this time. There was a little blight but not as bad as previous years. The Cara's were a good size. Ideal for baking which is H's favorite way of cooking spuds. Miss L tucks away a baked potato quick smart too. I have them all in the shed in sacks but now I am faced with storing the produce in such a way that we can get at everything easily.

I still have a lot of produce at the lottie, mainly brasicass and roots. Luckily they can live out until I need them. Now most the tall plants have been cut back or harvested I can now see the grape vines. I put them in a foot tall sticks with a few leaves and now all the white grapes are six feet tall and showing no signs of slowing down just yet.

I have not done any pickling this year so I need to get busy with that soon. The garage is full of saved jars which are starting to get in the way. I have been distracted with work but also with the new extension to the allotments. We had a chat with the site foreman about what he could do for us. We agreed a plan and that was last Friday. When I went up to check on the lottie on Friday lottie because I had been away most I found the contractors had made a start on preparing the site. They did up to the old plantation hedge line. I have spent a few hours this morning undoing the staples that held the wire to the posts. I managed to save 70 yards of strand wire but as yet I have not been able to salvage the wire rabbit fencing. I hope the contractors will be able to complete the other section soon. Steve and I can then set out the areas for the hard standings and paths. Where we get the stone fill and top soil from is a mystery at the moment but things have a way of turning up.

Weather, RollsRoyce, Spuds, Tendons and Rossi

Is the change of atmospheric conditions called "weather" because you don't know whether to go out or stay in?

The week was changeable so by Saturday it was promised to be fine all day and remain so on Sunday. I took a chance on Sunday remaining dry. I hoped that the sun and wind would dry the soil enough to let me harvest some more Potatoes. I have had a very tough few weeks at work and was quite low So H said we should go out. H had seen a piece in a local paper advertising an open day at the Rolls Royce works in Derby. We went along. It was really good. It was the Rolls Royce engineering and restoration club. They had all kinds of stuff from the earliest car and aero engines through to the early jet engines up to some quite modern fighter and passenger plane's jet engines. They had the sorts of Rolls and Royce, who incidentally, met and opened there first car works in Manchester, planes, cars, trucks, tanks, rocket motors and lots of bits of special machines and intricate engineering. The museum had every kind of Rolls related thing but the highlight was at 3pm.

Rolls Royce have a restored Merlin V24 aero engine as used in WWII in Spitfires, Hurricanes, Mosquitos and Lancasters. This one happen to be bolted to the frame and they run it. Three o'clock came and the assembled crowd were treated to the massive V24, 29 litre piston engine being started. It had a little cough and chuff as it was turned over by the starter motor before bursting into life with a deep roar. At first it ran quite rough but as it burbled along on the choke which when reduced settled down into a deep, throaty purr. After a few minutes of ticking over, which is quite fast on areo engines, they pulled the throttles open to run at much higher revs. The sound was visceral. It was not ear splittingly loud but loud with a deep resonance. We were stood about ten yards away. They had a cut down propeller on the motor, no doubt for balance and to give the motor a load, but even cut down to 18 inches the prop still sent a hurricane of wind back to the operators stood at the back of the engine. They ran the engine at different revs. It was quite a thing to witness. When the engine was shut down the crowd broke into a spontaneous round of applause. We then went to find the canteen. A cup of weak warm tea later, my spirit restored, by the event and no the tea, we trundled off home.

The gamble paid off. Sunday was dry. H decided that I needed watching so came along to the lottie. I set about the spuds and H did the French Beans. Incidentally the climbing French Beans have done very well but should have been picked weeks ago. I have been growing them up an "X" shape frame rather than the tradition wigwam or "A" frame. It has worked rather well but next year I will make the "X" more pronounced. When I was fencing last Tuesday I bent the end of my little finger with Martingale attached to my sword. It a french gripped foil which is not what I normal use. It did not hurt much, in fact it was not until I took my glove off at the end of the bout I noticed anything beyond a little discomfort. H made me go to the Doctor the next day and they sent me to Loughborough walk-in centre who duly pronounced I had snapped the tendon that controls the end joint of the little finger, right hand. I have to wear a split for two months. ow try an dig up spuds without sing your little finger of your dominant hand. It is a bugger especially when you know you should not flex your splinted finger. So I was digging with my pinky stuck out as if I was having high tea.

H decided that she fancied a go at digging the potatoes. H has a go every year. Her back is not up to that kind of exertion but she like to have a token go. She loves seeing them come up from the soil "like treasure, like treasure" she says as they come up on the tines of the fork. The soil is in beautiful condition so digging is not too hard but the spuds are in deep so a lot of soil has to be moved. I did the first row myself and half the second row. H did the remainder of the row. She was having fun digging spuds. She would dig up two plants worth I would then go through the soil again for the strays H missed and tidy the soil up as a seed bed, It is heavy work for H and she does not have a method so the potato bed looks like a pack of hounds have been digging for foxes. When H finished I went back over the area we had been tramping over, turning the soil and using the fork to restore the soil to a level surface, more or less. We sprinkled on some Clover seeds. I hope they germinate and start to grow before the year turns properly. The Clover planted as a green manure last year worked really well.

As luck would have it the MotoGP in America was affected the hurricane Ike and was delayed so much so I was able to watch it live on BBC2. Another result! I watched another master class by Rossi. He cements his position at the top of the points table. The next race is at Motegi, Japan in two weeks. I had to be out of the house for 5am on Monday so early to bed.

Lottie BBQ

We were blessed with sunny weather for the Allotment BBQ. Last year it was washed out. This year we had use of the community patio which served reasonably well but was a little small. Steve set up the "base camp" BBQ, the tables and the condiments, plates etc. Other folks added to it as they turned up. The usual plot holders turned up, the kids came along too and it nice to see that some folks brought along the parents so there was thirty odd people in attendance with ages from 4 to 60 something.

The BBQ took a bit to get going but that did not bother me. The kids went off in a big gang to explore and came back more or less in one piece and covered in Blackberry juice. We had a competition for the longest runner bean. I bought some cups, one for the adults and one for the kids. I made a fuss of the measuring and recording to make a event out of it. It raised the tension a little. It was a fairly close thing for the kids cup. The champion bean winners were presented with their cups by Steve in his role as Chairman. I made a short speech and we got on with partying.

Everyone drifted away to leave just Steve and I on the Patio with the remaindered bottles of wine. We let the Sun go down whilst we polished off a nice bottle of Merlot and the bottle white wine. and chatted about stuff only to be interrupted by assorted wild life. If they want wine they will have to get their own!

There is a story about how we got home but that is for another time.

Last Day and a Quick Week

We swung on extra day at Deepdale Hall. Chris took us to look at his converted Barn. Beautifully executed in the modern open plan style. The bedrooms and bathroom are down stairs and the lounge/diner upstairs.

H said goodbye the two old dogs that were always ready to petted and scratched whenever we would leave or return to the house. The drive home was uneventful. We came back via the A66 and turned south at the A1. A bit over five hours for the trip.


My brother pitched up on Sunday lunchtime to drop off his girls for the week. Miss L was still on the road from Cornwall. There was lots of squealing when Miss L finally pitched up. My second week off was a mix of allotmenting and chauffeuring the girls to various towns for shopping expeditions. H took them to Twycross Zoo one day and it was declared it was the best one they had ever been too. High praise indeed. The girls all got on well and were no trouble. It was a big day on Thursday as Miss L got her GSE results. She did really well and got what she needed to get into college. More squealing. We had a little celebration for her. She worked hard for it.

Howtown Hotel again?

Today was a much better. A day for walking. We decided to walk to the top of the big hill on the other side of the valley called Place Fell. We had walked near it several times. We walked over the same path to Boredale Hause and instead of turning right for High Street and Coast to coast we turned left up Place Fell. Luckily for us it was very windy and in the right direction which helped us climb to the summit at 2154 foot. It was really steep all the way up with bit of scrambling near the top. It was a full gale on the top but it gave wide views up Deepdale, over toward Kidsty Pike, across the valley the Hellvelyn range and down the valley to Penrith and the Eden valley beyond.
H introducing Glenridding in the valley bottom on the shores Ullswater.

Having taken in the view and took a few photos we then wandered downhill off Place Fell mainly to get out of the gale. We found a likely spot and had lunch overlooking Ullswater. Our next target was Howtown. Howtown and the Hotel of the same name are a couple of miles apart. Getting off the fellside down to Howtown was tiresome. A mile or so of very steep grassy hillside. the path was not much worn and with all the recent rain was very slippy. The Pooley bridge folk don't climb up the fells, they stroll by the water side path. We made it down without mishap. Howtown is just a few houses and a farm. We had decided that if all went well i.e. made good time, we would treat ourselve to a ride back to Glenridding on the steamer. We made good time and had time to spare so we walked up to the Howtown Hotel, round the back to the Walkers bar and had a large Sherry for me and a half a bitter for H. We sat in the garden enjoying the hot sun. As we were finishing up a couple of Geordie families turned up. It is not a big garden so there was lots of stepping on toes, excuse me, squeezing past, sorry pet, what you having and Darren get off that. Darren was about ten and ready for mischief. Within seconds of turning up he was already at the top ornimental rockery, the one that says "keep off, loose and slippy rocks" just past the sign that said "private garden". As I returned the our glasses and fat lass bellowed in my ear because I did not exist and her beloved was at least twenty foot away "They don't have Strongbow on draft pet" and to her dog at her feet, but still above the ring in my ears "where has he brought us". The place that "He" had took her obviously did not measure up.

H and I wandered over to the Ullswater Steamer landing stage just a short walk from the Howtown Hotel. As we got close we heard the tanoy of the steamer relaying safety messages. We quickened our step and were in plenty of time to join the back of the queue. We paid our tickets and settled down to enjoy the ride. As I sat down the tanoy explained they had a bar on board and as I looked about I saw that we were just by the companion way. As soon as the Raven slipped her mooring H and I took in their board of fair in the Saloon. We had a couple of Gin & Tonics and repaired to upper decks to enjoy the cruise. The ride back to Glenridding only took half an hour but it was most enjoyable. We had a nice chat about nothing in particular with a crew member on the way back. As we have loads of time in hand we hung about to see the Raven depart. A representative of every colour and creed got on that boat. I was sure something biblical was going to happen. As SS Raven slipped her moorings the new skipper set off but at the expense of some of the pilings. He bumped the boat on docking and ground the bulwarks on the way out. The boat won't last another hundred years with that sort of treatment. The chap we had been talking too just raised his eyes to the sky, shook his head and coiled down the ropes. Click HERE for info on the Ullswater Steamers.


We took a walk about Glenridding and found the famous climber pub The Traveller's Rest. It is very small and is known for good food and drink and often has live music. But it only holds about fifty people so it get packed really quickly and the wait for food or drink can be way too long. We got a couple of beers and sat out in the sun and people watched. It is a good spot for two reasons:

A. It is on a steep hill so getting in and out of the car park requires close control so it is good value watching to old dears doing hundred point turns, on the hill, with on audience.
B. It is on the path that leads to Hellvelyn. At this time of the evening everyone is coming down in various states of distress.

One crew of professional types had legged it down the mountain leaving their mate behind much to their amusement but he had all the cash. So no money for beer and The Traveller's don't do credit. After a loud "discussion" in the car park they decided to ring him. Glenriding is not Knightsbridge....no signal. Crest fallen they had to sit there waiting for their buddy. To add insult to injury they were shoo'd off the benches by folks who had cash to purchase a pint of the landlord best at the bar. When we left they were still sat there like a couple of sheep dogs waiting there master's footsteps on the drive. In all a splendid day however it was a long slog back to Deepdale from Glenriding. Drink just takes all the energy out of my legs. Still, I was very relaxed.

Wet Wednesday

I chickened out of the monster breakfast and just just a couple of fried eggs and bacon...and cereal...and toast..and Tea and some more toast and Tea. We could not even see the other side of the valley so no hill walking today. We lounged about then took the car to Penrith. Mooched about a bit more then sat in the car in a car park in Penrith wonering what to do next.

We thought lets have a look at Pooley Bridge which the village at the top of Ullswater. It like a mini Windermere. lots of gift shops and tea rooms. We went in one for a brew. See sat there, the staff walked past us. We some more but no one came so we left, a bit bemused. We stood on the bridge over the river. Looked over. No fish. Walked back to the car and that was Pooley Bridge. The weather had perked up. It was even sunny. We saw a sign for Martinsdale and took it. I did spot that Martinsdale was at the end of a five mile cul de sac and just at the end is a one in four hill. There is a church there and that is it. It was a peaceful spot so we took a short stroll. After all it had been a busy day so far an we did not want to over exert ourselves. We got back in the car and trundled back towards Pooley Bridge. We came to the sign for the Howtown Hotel which we had passed on the outward leg. It looked really smart. Being dressed for lounging about rather walking we presented ourselves in the lobby. It was a lovely Lakeland building probably constructed in the Georgian period, low, wide door nicely proportion rooms with names such as the Smoking Lounge and the Public Bar. The bar area was panelled in Mahogany with a hatch for drink to be passed to the waiting staff leading to long corridor to the Dining Room. The bar proper was panelled in yet more Mahogany with stain glass lights and the far side of the bar area was the Walker's bar. Stone flagged floors and built in wooden benches with a big fireplace at the far end, well the far end of a twelve foot square room, and all the bar served by the one little bar.


A very thin but beautiful Russian young lady, dressed all in black with jet black hair came to attend us. We asked for afternoon Tea. That would be no problem and would we like to be seated. She showed us into room off the lobby and would we mind waiting for Tea as the scones were not quite ready. The room was exactly what you would expect from a Jane Austin novel. We looked out across the view to Ullswater. We made ourselves comfortable, which was no great task. Presently the nice lady returned with tray of tea and scones and all the usual paraphernalia for high tea. The scones were still hot and light as a feather. Certainly in the same league as H's scones. We had very civilised hour or so. The Tinterweb says that the Hotel has been in the same family for 100 years. The same report said that the bedrooms do not have televisions or telephones. Sounds perfect.

Feeling that we had found a new favorite place we trundled off in the car, back through and excesses of Pooley Bridge and its adjacent camp sites back along the lakeside road back to Deepdale. An odd day overall. Still no sight of the top of High Street.

High Street

We bravely tackled breakfast and were introduced to Chris's twin grand daughters who were all of three years old and intent on killing each other. The previous day we had bought the makings of a packed lunch for today's assault. I call it an assault because High Street is 3889ft of vertical assent [give or take a few feet]. It is steep too. Deepdale Hall was just across the valley from the start of the assent from the valley bottom to Boredale Hause, which I swear is the hardest part of the climb, then to Angle Tarn, The Knott and Rampsgill Head. These torturous delights we had tackled the previous year on the coast to coast. But what was new was the Straits of Riggindale, the summit of High Street and Thornthwaite Crag. We had intended to descend from Thornthwaite Crag into the valley of Hayeswater and stroll back to Deepdale. With a lot of huffing and puffing we got onto the High Street plateau but could not see more than twenty feet in front of us due to the cloud. This is what we should have seen.

We found the wall which we should have followed to find the trig point that marked the summit. Instead we followed the well worn path which led us to the massive stone pile that marks Thornthwaite Crag. As we could not see the path to navigate accurately we sat in the lee of the cairn at Thornthwaite Crag and had our butties in the hope that the clouds would lift so that we might find our way to the lip of Hayeswater valley and our path off the mountain. We were getting cold [it is only August after all] so decided to retrace our steps. This was a wise move but it gave us a long walk back. We had walked seven miles to get to Thornthwaite Crag via High Street but it was only a little over three miles from Thornthwaite Crag to Deepdale via Hayeswater. About ninety minutes after making our way down the weather started to lift but we where committed to retracing our steps.



The path you can see which seems to lead off the end of the wall on the left is the path across the Straits of Riggindale to the summit which is set well back from the edge of the corrie. The clouds are still covering Thornthwaite Crag but I bet it would have been thin enough to find the way.

The weather having cleared we were treated to Angle Tarn being utterly still reflecting a near mirror image of Angletarm Pikes with St Sunday's Crag in the distance.

H was knackered after the fourteen mile hike but Deepdale had lots of hot water and a deep bath which H took full advantage of. We did not make the full journey round but it was a stiff walk and I achieved a personal ambition to tick off High Street. This goal is offset by the fact High Street is so called because it was the roman road from Penrith to Ravenglass. There is section of the High Street plateau called the Racecourse because the farmers from Patterdale and Mardale, which are either side the High Street divide, used to meet for markets, fairs and racedays on the flat, albeit very lofty field halfway between the two communities.

The assault - postponed

The first days was a wash out so the attempt on High Street was postponed. I decided we should drive over the other side of the fells and see what there was to see in the south west corner of the area. Normally we drove past this area in a our treks to Cockermouth or the hills proper. We went to Ravenglass first. Ravenglass is a port used by the Romans to export lead and iron ore from the Cumbrian hills. A very long time later [1875] a narrow gauge railway was built to run from the port to the foot of the hills inland at Boot. The locals call the railway "lal ratty" [Little rattler] but posh folk called the Ravenglass and Eskdale railway. It is run by volunteers. It takes you up the valley to Eskdale. A pretty run although we did not take the trip this time. We had a walk round the village of Ravenglass instead. As a Roman settlement H was excited to see a bit a roman remains. As it happens they have some large parts of walls from the Bath room. The West Coast railway chopped off a good corner of the fort site so the fort site is just a partial earthwork. Incidentally there is a full size railway station serving the Cumbrian coast so you can get off the full size train and get on the lal ratty by walking across the bridge.

Ravenglass is at the top of a protected estuary. The tide was out when we were there. It has a desolate beauty. The main street is wide and lined with well built house whose name illustrate their former uses, The Old Custom House, the Post Office etc. They are all Regency period which must have been the towns heyday. If you walk down the main street you can walk straight onto the foreshore and into the sea. It is no wonder the houses and well built, the houses on the right of the main street have no back gardens just small yards which back straight onto the foreshore.
















We sat on a bench overlooking the view and had our packed lunch. Ravenglass is so remote the adjacent dunes are used for test firing ordnance. There are big notice boards just outside the town saying not to pick anything up and to watch out for firing days indicated by the red flags. No flags when we were there just the Oyster Catchers, the rain and us.

Ravenglass did not fill our day so we picked another town we had not been to, Millom.

We trundled along the coast. Found Millom, took a stroll around the town and got back in the car. Ten minutes total. Millom was a mining town. The mines closed in the early 1900's and the town has not really recovered. There is nothing of note in the town except the sign post to the next village, Haverigg. On the way out of town we saw a sign to the air museum. I thought I knew the museums around Cumbria. We followed the signs and eventually pitched up at the back an industrial estate outside Millom. The museum could have been an air frame scrap yard. It was run by a over enthusiastic ex RAF regiment bloke and a teenage girl. It was teeming down. It looked as though it probably rained a lot in this part of the estate. The industrial unit was crammed with bits of planes and aero engines from the second world war up to the 60's. German rotary engine, Merlin engines, Russian engines, early jet engines in various states of repair from redundant jet engines to engines recovered from crash site and there a quite a few crash sites round Cumbria. It was a training area in WWII. Haverigg had an airfield hence the loose association. The airfield now houses HMP Haverigg. Having escaped the clutches of our weird host who, from the volume he spoke at, must have spent quite a bit of time too close to jet engines whilst they were running.

We got off the estate and followed the signs from Haverigg proper. That too is an odd place. It seems to exist because the prison is there and airfield was there before it. We parked a small car park by the seafront. There is no prom at Haverigg just the car park, a toilet block and a little cafe. A couple of local yoofs were hanging round the car park trying to be menacing and cool at the same time but being upstaged by a family enjoying their holiday by arguing who was to sit where in the car and the little prince [the chubby grandson] kicking up a fuss because he could not have some small sweet delicacy. We went over to the cafe and sat and watched as the three generations squeezed themselves into the car. It was like watching a flock of Geese settling down to roost. The cafe was all sticky table tops and more deaf people talking really loud about nothing. We chanced a brew, weak and warm but only 60p. You get what you pay for but the floor show was free. We went for a walk to find to high spots of Haverigg. The high spots are the sand dunes and the Duddon Estuary. Very stark and beautiful. Click HERE for a satellite view of the area. It was still low tide so square mile after square mile of sand was on show. The most exiting aspect was a couple of blokes fettling a boat beached on the foreshore and all the different colours of broken glass glinting in the sand with air suffused with aroma of dog poo baking in the sun.

With a mixture of disappointment at the area beautiful had so little going for it and so little chance of opportunity and bemusement at the surrealness what we had seen, we headed back to Deepdale.

We had diner at the White Lion in Patterdale. Portion big enough to choke a horse washed down with a few pints of Guinness then early to bed in readiness for the assault on breakfast and High Street if the weather is something like.

Deepdale Hall

H should write this bit. H found the Hall which is really a working farm on Tinterweb. We stayed B&B. The son, Jimmy met us and showed us the room. it was just the job, quite and peaceful. except for the bleating sheep which was drowned out by the sound of pelting rain. The weather was not that bad, wet certainly but not of biblical proportions as it was last year.

Deepdale was built in the 1600's. It was solidly built and nestled into the valley side. Water came from their own spring, always a bonus, and eggs from their chickens. We got the know the owners over the next few days and all I can say is the Chris Brown's dad made the decision of life time to give up his civil service job and buy Deepdale and the farm back in the 50's and he had never seen a sheep in his life until buying the farm.
Note the 16th century satellite dish over the porch, very period. The window over the porch was to our room.

We chose Deepdale; partly because it was available, I had not decided to go on holiday until the week or two before the actual date and partly because it was near to High Street. Each morning we looked out the window only to find High Street invisible behind the clouds.

Breakfast was always a hearty affair. Free range eggs, local dry cured bacon and locally made sausages, as much toast, jam and marmalade as you could eat, cereals and lashings of Tea. The dining room doubled as the guests lounge. On more than one morning we flopped on the settee to let breakfast go down and have a chat with Chris. I think he liked a chat. It was better than going out in the rain.

The boy's a fool!

We set off for Morecombe via the "A" roads. We got detoured in Preston for roadworks, saw the University, the Prison and the famous Preston Northend football ground and that was Preston. When we got to Morecombe it was quite busy even thought it was bracing. We parked up on the prom and had a walk. H wanted to see the memorial to Eric Morcombe. I wanted a cup of tea. We found the memorial. It is right on the front. Everyone who went there was happy. Even the miserable old gits dragged on holiday by the family and the teenage girls who were far to cool to on holiday with the family broke into a smile. The area has all Eric and Ern's catch phases and a roll call of the celebs that went on their shows.

Click HERE for a link to more info on Eric. It is definitely worth a visit but the town will only keep you occupied for a few hours perhaps a whole day if the weather was nice so you could play on the beach.

Tea and a sarny was next on the agenda. I figured that since we were in Morcombe we should have potted shrimp, a local delicacy. The shrimp for the potted shrimp are caught in the bay, cooked, peeled, put in little pots and covered with melted butter which contains the spice Mace. They taste better once they have left to mature for a few months but could we find a vendor? No chance. Southend embraces it's cockles and whelks, Bury it's Black puddings but not Morecombe it's potted shrimp. We found on odd place on the front. A tiny cafe which only seat twelve people but with a tiny deli in the back room. The ownes are local celebs in the foody set. Hid away on the menu was potted shrimp - result. When the salad came it was half full of fruit. Nice but odd, like everything else. They made their own Bread which was warm when it was served as was the shrimp which made the butter ooze all shrimpy flavoured in the bread, very nice.


After mopping the melted butter off my chin and paying the surly waiter we took another tour of the prom. At the far end is a recently renovated 1930's art deco hotel. Judging by the cars in the car park it is a posh place to stay. Morecombe is trying for another revival. The pier where the ferries used to dock has also been done up but there is three hundred yard stretch between the Pier and hotel end of the prom and the Eric bit of the prom which has not been dressed. Perhaps they will get the cash they need to complete the job.

We looked across the bays to see the hills of Cumbria. Morecombe could not hold us any longer but we still had time on our hands. We took a leisurely drive though the lakes on the back roads to avoid the excesses of Bowness and Windermere and pitched up at Deepdale Hall at five inthe afternoon.

Liverpool

We saw Lucy off as planned on the Saturday. Then up at a reasonable hour on Sunday, a comfortable breakfast then off the Liverpool via Manchester. I had stuff to drop off with Mum and Dad, veg from the lottie, some more of H's Blackcurrant jam and Redcurrant jelly. H's scrounged Dad's over trousers for walking part of our holiday. It is only August after all.

We stopped in Manchester just for a cup of tea and a sarny before heading off to Liverpool. We went straight to Crosby to see the statues via the East Lancs Road. It was a sunny and very breezy day. The men in "real life" look quite strange. As the day wore on and the day trippers dispersed they made an eerie sight. Crosby beach is an odd place. The busy River Mersey and offshore wind farms to the front, the desolate expanse of the Ainsdale dunes to the north, the cranes and docks of Seaforth container port to the south and behind the odd mix of Victorian seaside villas, smart eateries on Crosby's main street and just beyond the poverty of Liverpool. Maybe not the grinding poverty of the 1880's but still a different culture and less comfort then the rest of us enjoy.














We found the Hotel after a minor detour. Cheap and cheerful and in case you were wondering, yes we got a room with a view of the Dock and at no extra cost a view of Birkenhead. We could see a bright blue arched bridge in the distance. H and I wondered if it was the bridge over the West Float where Liverpool Victoria had their boat house. The hotel had a large scale map of the area and it was indeed the West Float where we used to race. Liverpool Victoria Boat House would not be out of place of the Thames or the Isis instead it is backed onto by a scrap yard and derelict warehouses [when last we saw it].

In evening we took a stroll round Victoria Dock. It has been developed a lot since I used to go there. We sat on the benches looking out across the Mersey to Birkenhead. The tide was was just coming the high water slack and there were several ships making their way up stream to their berths. We watched all the nationalities wandering about but then we started to think about filling our bellies. We looked round and to our surprise a Pizza Express. No second thoughts. We even knew what we would have. Dough balls and a Capricciosa pizza which is prosciutto cotto ham, anchovies, fresh strips of red pepper, capers and olives, topped with a free range boiled egg and washed down with a Perroni beer. Having taken time over dinner we strolled back to the hotel.

We had a comfortable night's sleep and in the morning, a good breakfast . We set off for the Lakes but seeing as we had loads of time, we could not check in until 4pm, we went via the "A" roads and decided to stop for lunch at Morecombe.

Scouse Humour

H and I are getting ready for our holidays. A day has become free so I looked for something to fill it. H has always wanted to see Anthony Gromley's installation "Another Place". I rang up a hotel in Liverpool to book a room. The hotel is in the Victoria dock area. I asked "Ian", the jolly chap who was working reservations that day, if the room would have a view [of the Dock]? "Yes Sir, all the rooms have windows" came the reply.

Click HERE for a YouTube of "Another Place"

Spot Weeding

The weather has been very accommodating, heavy showers then a day or two of a dry spell and more showers. Even at night the air temperature is 17+ degrees C and in the day in the mid to high twenties. This has caused the plants to shoot up. That suits me. The strong leafy plants tend to crowd out the weeds. It is only the Onions that suffer since they offer no shade which lets the weeds get established.

At this time of the season I just spot weed and push the hoe about where I can. Any weed that shows flowers is allowed a few days in the sun and is then yanked out. My hope is that the plant has expended a lot of energy growing put out flowers for the bees and other insects and pulling them whilst in flower means they do not set seed. If they have not set seed they can go in the compost.

I friend of mine, Alan, was after a few seedlings to replace the Sprouting Broccoli that had failed. I only had Sprouts but that was deemed an acceptable alternative. We had a tour of the plot and bagged a couple of handfuls of what ever was ripe. He went away with a big basket of fresh veg. His missus, Julia, will make something fantastic. She is a great cook. It will be all that WI training. On the way back we had to drop in at The Railway, where payment was made, in the form of a couple of pints of Guinness. I was such a pleasant evening we sat outside and talked of "cabbages and kings" and other such nonsense over our pints.

The Parsnips have been a disaster. No more than a dozen have germinated and the speed they are growing they will look like mini-veg on Christmas dinner plate. The Carrots are doing nicely. There is a green fuzz in the rows where the seedlings are growing and the weather is perfect for them. I have been round the leaders of the pumpkin and cut off the growing tips. This will force the plant to fill out the fruits. One of the pumpkins is already bigger than a football. Broad Beans are ready to crop as are some of the Peas. The climbing French Beans have some pods but they look lumpy rather than smooth. Perhaps I have left them too long on the vine. The early cabbages have been eaten by baby slugs so I will have them out shortly and plant out some of the Brussel Sprout seedlings in there place. The successional sowing cabbage has work quite well in the patch except for the cauli's They all came together and went to seed between my visits.

H has had a triumph with her first attempt at jam making. The Blackcurrant set just right and is just the right balance of sweet and acid. The Redcurrants from Gloria have made a very nice jelly. We had some with the Bacon for tea tonight. The blackcurrants came from our garden and made twenty jars of jam and enough left over to make some Cassis. Mum was clearing out under the stairs and found some part bottles of Cognac left over from parties years ago. I do not like spirits but made into Cassis it is a different matter.

We went to Manchester on Saturday to our dear friend Jill's birthday. The big four oh. It was a smashing evening. We saw folks we had not seen for a long while. They were all amazed at Miss L. Some one them had not seen Miss L since we left Manchester when she was eight. Jill's dad, Charlie, who is a lovely chap, kept referring to Miss L as his super model friend which Lucy liked a lot. There was a young chap, Adam, who sang along to a backing tape. He was fantastic. He sung songs of Dean Martin, Sinatra and Matt Munroe and swing interpretations of more modern tunes. H was all agog because he sung Gershwin's "Someone to Watch Over Me"for her. Ella Fitzgerald did the most well know version. The tune was also used in film the same name with a young Tom Berenger in the lead who is also one of H's favorites.

I have a trip to London this week and I go on holidays next weekend so there will be a lot to do. I have made a list. I only hope I can tick most of it off before I leave.

The Moon

Whilst I was writing the blog this evening I watched the Moon rise. The clouds are thin and stratified. The three quarter Moon rose slowly behind Bardon Hill, huge, red and tastefully obscured by two thin wisps of clouds. As the evening wore on the moon continued it slow upward climb and changed in to its usual milky white colouring. The clouds and passing moon had made new elegant tableau's each time I looked up from typing a paragraph. Just now the moon is hazy but sitting on a cloud layer. It would be a nice night to be aboard. If only I had a reason to be out.

In between writing the blog and musing over the moon I found a photo of the lottie from 30th March this year and compared it with the one I took at the weekend. It is a striking change. See for your self.

March: Frosts, digging, manuring

July: warm, dry, plants hurrying to harvest in full vigour.

Weekend 20th July

I had just a few hours on Saturday to do what was needed at the lottie. Miss L coming back from her sojourn to Cornwall at some point on Saturday. As it happened it was seven in the evening when we went to collect her. Miss L was off to Manchester to stay with Gran and Grandad for the week starting on the Sunday so I only had the morning to do lottie. It was a very busy week at work but managed to get a look in at the lottie during the week and see my buddy Steve to get the orders for watering the plants whilst he is on holiday.

I was was the on the trailer run so was up fairly early. The weather was not helping my timetable, heavy showers were blowing in and out at various speeds. At one stage in the morning whilst working at lottie, a shower blew in and by the time I got to the car it had blown over but I was soaked. I dug up a row of Charlotte's and a row of White Duke of York spuds. The Broad Beans are shoulder high and the cabbages are full flow. The weather has been perfect, warm and wet which has made the spuds bulk up without me having to kill myself watering. On returning the trailer I took a dinners worth of Spuds and some Broad Beans for Chris & Angie. Since I was going up to Manchester I made up two baskets both with two varieties of spuds. One baskets had a cabbage [Candissa] bottle of home cider and a bottle of the demon Damson wine, the another soft fruits from the garden and some small cauliflowers. Mum and Dad got the fruit basket, Uncy Derk the basket with the fortified refreshment. Even sharing the bounty I still had more than enough to do the week.

Digging the spuds was relatively easy work so long as you do not have too many to dig at once! Despite all the rain the soil was just moist. The spuds had sucked up all the water. The Duke of Yorks are great croppers and I intend to leave them in as long as I dare. They make great roasting spuds being large and the insides fluffy when cooked. Here is a picture of the harvest from one of the plants.

I planted ten seed potatoes in each row, not more than a pound in weight for the row and this year they have returned, on average two pounds of spuds per plant. Not bad going.

I even got round to placing stakes behind the vines and tieing them in. The Vines are just about up to the first cross wire which is at about hip height. They might make it to the shoulder height cross wire by the end of the season. Another wait and see.

The only disappointment is the French climbing and dwarf French Beans. They are not doing well at all. I think it is the wind that is chilling them. They just don't like the cold. On the other hand the Pumpkin is making a bid to dominate the whole lottie. I can fell a pinching out session coming on.

Weekend 12th July

This is a busy time of year for me mainly because parts of every weekend are spent ferrying Miss L round various parts of the country. It is a double whammy this weekend because Miss L is a away for the week with a friend and H is away for the weekend with her sister. Miss L just needed ferrying across town to her friends house on Friday evening Miss L, Jess, her Mum and the dog "Ollie", red bandanna and all are to go camping in Cornwall for the week. H was going over the Hathersage to see the Silly Burgers , a compilation of tribute performers. Apparently H and Sis danced their socks off.

I saw H off on Saturday lunch time the went to the lottie for a few hours. There is not a great deal to do at the moment. Weeding of course. I did the carrot patch on my hands and knees and filled the wheelbarrow twice. It looks good now. In the adjacent area I has found that there was no sign of the Parsnip I had planted six weeks ago. There was the odd one which I transplanted into a single row. I figure the slugs had them so re-prepped the area and sowed two whole packets of Carrot seed for the autumn instead.

I dug up another row of Charlotte spuds and washed them. H likes them all clean from the lottie. I checked on the French Beans - climbing and dwarf in bed 2. They are not doing so well. The Pumpkin I put in has got it@s feet under the table and is romping off across the lottie. I had a couple of Butternut squash plants available so I dug a big hole for each one and dumped in five shovel fulls of manure and planted the squashes on top. I also had a a dozen outdoor ridge cucumbers so I planted those around the edge of bed 2

I had a six foot strip of bed 4 which had not been dug over since the winter. I had a load of assorted brassicas to plant out so I set to. The soil was like chocolate cake to dig over. The weeds fell to the fork with ease. Half an hour later the digging was done and I set about planting the seedlings. I have made a discovery. I always plant the seeds in modules and when big enough plant them out. I figure I give them the best start and usually they are big enough to the resist the slugs. I have been gradually increasing the size of the modules. I ran out of modules and sowed the last batch of brassicas in a big deep tray. They turned out to be the best seedling yet. This has lead me to the conclusion that to have vigorous seedlings one must plant them in deep trays so as not to restrict the root growth. Another lesson learnt.

I had an invitation to honour. By tradition Steve has a BBQ on the first weekend of the summer holidays. That was this weekend. A fortnight ago Steve asked me if a could make Elderflower Champagne to order. I said "I don't know". I had only made it once before. I spent a wet but invigorating afternoon tramping round Hick Lodge collecting Elder flowers. I followed the recipe and took the results to Steve's BBQ. The bottles were tight as drums. That made me think they would probably be fizzy. Yep, it was fizzy. It exploded out of the bottle. It was an interesting taste, sweet but slightly bitter and a low alcoholic content. A nice drink to start a summer party with. A bit later the red wine came out and things go a bit silly. All in all it was a very pleasant evening.

H came back on Sunday about dinner time. I had a lie in then a light breakfast and a sit down. Luckily there were heavy showers which stopped any plans for the lottie.

Better than Boggies

I not not do much on the lottie this weekend because I got an invite to a launch day of Honda's CB1000R. Saturday morning was spent travelling up to Manchester. Miss L came along too but just to go shopping in the city you understand. I dropped Miss L off at her gran's and I disappeared to the dealers. I did the sign in thing and elected to ride the CB1300R, CBR1000RR and the CB1000R. The was a free butty van so I partook of burgers and coffee to fill that empty spot. Then for a good look round the bikes. It was a bit of a cheat really, brother Derek's best buddy Harvey works at the shop and Derek has had a couple of bikes from them over the years so it was not like walking into a unfriendly place. Derek with a couple of others were tasked with chaperoning riders on the new bikes round the test circuit.

Whilst I was kicking stones, killing time until my first ride out I had a look at the bikes in detail then I suddenly heard, from across the shop, "Dave 8,4 - Dave 8,4!". It was one of the lads I used to ride with when I was a courier all those years ago. EZ84 was my call sign, Dave's my name. There are about a couple of dozen people in Manchester who get their tagged with their old call sign. I am one of them. I had a chat with Steve. He seems to have done alright for himself. We had a chat about bike's, as you do. Then it was time for a spin. The CB1300 has a 1300cc engine and is big, soft and comfy. Derek wangled it so I went out on my own with one of his buddies. We did not hang about and zipped around the ten mile circuit of motorways, dual carriage ways and main roads. A good mix of road types to show off the bikes traits. Next up was the CBR1000RR a.k.a. the Fireblade. It is the out and out sports bike of the Honda range. It was £&*@ fast, beautifully poised with phenomenal brakes and fantastic exhaust note once the revs were above 4000 rpm, Oh and did I say - blisteringly fast. That was a smashing ride. The riding position was a good if a little short fo leg room. I should have done a few yoga exercises before I got on. The CB1000R was saved until last. That was almost as fast as the "blade" and all most all the things the blade is except more street styled.

Honda have released a special bike called the DN-01. There are only 15 in the country. At the end of the day Derek got to take it up the road to be filled with petrol. It is an odd styled thing. It is essentially a 700cc twist and go scooter.

Once everything was packed away I went back to Gran's to pick up Miss L and spend a little time with them. Of course they got a digest of what I had been up to for the past five hours. Miss L and I popped over to see Uncy Derk. No trip to Manchester would be complete for Miss L without a visit across town. Derek and I had a debrief about the bikes and characters we saw on the day. Auntie Teresa recounted the story of her grand-daughter. I had sent them home when they visited a couple of weeks ago with some homemade jam. The little 'un loves jam butties so tried some of mine. The verdict is that my jam is "better than boggies". Since the jar is almost empty I will take it as a a compliment. Have supped plenty of tea, Miss L and I trundled home in appalling conditions.

Next next morning the weather was not much better so I pottered about in the greenhouse getting the trays ready to be taken down the lottie for planting out. Miss L had a bunged up nose an a sore throat. She was left at home whilst H and I went for a walk round Staunton Harold. It was just a light expedition. We got back to the car just as it started to rain. We managed to almost ignore a car-full of out friends who were just leaving as we arrived back in the car park. It was not until they wound the window down we could see in.

I went up to the lottie about 8pm, just for a look. I did about and hours worth of hand weeding and manged to get my nice trouser scuffed with mud. There will be bother when H finds out. I picked some Broad Beans and Rhubarb and went home. All this rain and sunny intervals is making everything grow like mad, which is way it should be.

Jewels in the soil

From the title I reckon you can guess I have been digging up my new potatoes. It has been a week since my last visit to the lottie. I have been in London this week on business. The Charlotte's are in flower. Two plants makes a dinner of spuds. I hope that this week I can get up to the lottie and bag some Broad Beans and have a nice supper of fresh spuds and beans. It is simple but delicious.

The transformation since last weekend is startling. Everything is twenty percent bigger than last week. The potato patch is a solid mass of haulms. The Charlotte's are in flower, Purple. The Duke of York's are just coming into flower, White and the Cara main crop are not ready to flower but the leaves are the deepest lush green. The Broad Beans are three foot high and the onions are just keeping ahead of the weeds. Even the brasiccas that were scoffed by the Partridge are racing on.

The carrot and onion patches needed attention. I had bought a special swan necked onion hoe but the weeds were too advanced for light weeding. The rain had loosened the soil so it was relatively easy work if not a little daunting. The odd Carrot that got pulled out was in good health, up to that point anyway. The onions are plumping up nicely but it will be some time before we can enjoyed them. In an area about two thirds of a bed I managed to fill the wheel barrow twice. Just as well the compost bins are mulching down so there is room in the top for more.

I have a few things left in the greenhouse to plant out. I might get a chance to got the lottie one evening this week to prep a planting spot for the weekend. The garden at home is over run with Lettuce. At the moment it is lettuce with everything.
The soft fruits are really on song. The strawberries are still in full flow. The raspberries are staring to get ahead of what we can comfortable eat and the Blackcurrants continue to ripen. It is hard to keep from "testing" the odd one for ripeness. The Fig is making a living but I do not expect any fruit for a few years. The Apple trees are doing very well. The apples are about the size of golf balls.

H is delighted that the hard work clearing the hedges, prepping the soil and building the beds has paid off of so quickly and abundantly. I say it is all down to barrow loads of good quality hos muck.

Happy Birthday

Well despite my prediction, it rained for Miss L's birthday party. I have not been good at predicting the weather in 2008. Never mind we had a great time despite the rain. The rain curtailed the BBQ H had decided that I was going to do. Lucky for all concerned that they were saved that treat. As it happened the food worked out very well. Auntie Sue made a smashing cake for the occasion.

Miss L was delighted that everyone turned out for her especially Uncle Derk and Auntie Teresa.

I did no gardening at all. In fact it was like a holiday. I had the day off work on Friday so Miss L and I could go to the MotoGP practise day at Donnington Park. It was a beautiful day. We saw our hero, Valentino Rossi. We saw his long time rival, Danni Pedrosa dump it in front of us. I dragged Miss L away from the fence and went up to the marshal's post to;
A, See Danni up close. He passed withina foot or so of Miss L as he was be ridden back to the pit by a marshal.
B, to see a GP bike, even a crashed one, up close. It is not often you get to see a two millions pound motorbike.

We walked miles. We checked out in in field shopping areas and the coffee bars. I managed to stay away from the Beer vans but it was a "top" day.



Watch the clip with your speakers turn up to the max and it is only be half as noisy as real life. The clip is of Rossi of coming down the main stright, right into Redgate and disappearing over the brow into Cascades.

I took Uncy Derk up to the lottie to show it off. I had bagged a couple of plants worth of new potatoes on Saturday morning. They are just just coming on stream. The blog could have been called Damson, Damson everywhere but not a drop to drink [with apologise the Coleridge] but the bottles of Damson wine have been taking it in turns to blow off their corks splattering the inside of the shed with fruity wine. During the party we tried a couple of bottles of the home made with predictable results. Before the wine over took us the tasting note were as follows, the Damson wine was really fruity, sparkling but not dry or sweet with a fruity tang at the end, the Apple was very dry but not what you should have after a sweeter, fruity wine. The Pea Pod is still a bit of a acquired taste.

On Sunday everyone was surprisingly bright. We had a nice breakfast and then Uncy Derk let me have a spin on his borrowed Honda. We did not like it. Not enough Horse Power for our tastes. We waved Uncy Derk and Auntie Ter off into the breezy mid-morning air and settled down to a day of doing absolutely nothing. H took Miss L and my Mum & Dad for a spin to Lichfield. It is her favorite town. Apparently Erasmus's garden was in it's full majesty. Click HERE for a link to the website of his house

Be careful what you wish for!

It has been a blowy day. It rained during the night continued with a few blustery showers today and again tonight. I had wished for some rain. I hope the showers are dumping on the lottie as well as my house. The rain will do the spuds good. They have needed a good soaking. But do not worry, it will be nice for the weekend. Miss L always has good weather for her birthday party.

I have been out in the garden this evening. I have tidied up the Greenhouse. I have taken out the big shelf on the right of the greenhouse to give the Tomatoes room and light. I also had a furtle about in the Strawberry patch. I was not on my own. There was lots of Toads hiding under the broad leaves of the Strawberry plants. Here's a few of the berries that lasted long enough to have a portrait but only just!

The Vineyard's Complete

It has been a long dry week and I have been short of time to go the the lottie in the evening. So it was with trepidation I went to the lottie on Saturday morning. I was on trailer duty so I was at the lottie quite early. I was chuffed to find that everything was making a living. I thought the plants would be parched. I was not sure what I was going to do at the lottie this week until I saw the plot. Then it hit me. I decided that I would finish the path at the end of the lottie. It, like the side path, has never been touched since I took up the plot and I had resolved at Christmas to make a vineyard round the edge of the plot. This end had been waiting its turn. The end of the plot has been home to fifty big milk cartons which I used to use to hold the fleece off the seedlings. The cartons, part filled with water, kept the fleece ten inches or so above the plantlets which stopped the fleece beating up the little plants in the wind. I emptied the water out of the cartons and put them in the back of the car. On the return trip with the trailer I spyed a recycling point in Overseal. In one trip I dumped the cartons and the trailer.....result.

I went home to collect a few tools and stock up on breakfast and drinks. The first job at the lottie was to splashed plenty of water about especially on the Potatoes. The wind was blowing gently away from the plot so I decided to take advantage and got a fire going in the trash can. I got a good blaze going. Once it settled down I had a good base fire I piled in all the dried weeds and Brocolli stem and other assorted combustable rubbish and left it to its own devices. I set up my well worn routine, wheelbarrow, fork and bucket for stones all to hand. I put on my Ipod, wide brimmed hat and gloves and set to converting the scruffy end border into to a neat and level path. I went home at one pm for a break and a sandwich. H looked after me. I was a little despondent. Toiling in the heat of the day I had only manged to dig over and weed about half the border. Mind you it was a treat to have H's Elderflower cordial to cool me down. H has found the right measures for the cordial which is sweet yet sharp. I still had the remainder to dig and weed, put in some extra edging , rake and compact the path, loose all the excess soil and plant the two vines. I went back to the lottie about two pm, plugged the Ipod in a again and set to. I had a crisis as I got the last two foot of the bed because it was an awkward space to work in. However I broke it. From then on the work just flowed. I made a raised area which I intend to pave and compacted and graded the remainder of the path. At about five pm I dug out the holes for the last two grape vines and planted them with a bucketful of home made compost.

The vines are Muscat Hamburg which is dual purpose [dessert/wine] red variety. I figured the end of the plot got the Sun for the greatest part of the day so the red grapes would get a sporting chance to ripen. The grapes in I spent the next 45 minutes watering. The white grapes got a dowsing. They have settled in and are growing vigorously. The spuds got another soaking. I allowed myself a few minutes to admire my handy work. Finishing the path was the last "infrastructure" type job that needed doing. On reflection it is something of a milestone. My back was aching but I picked some Timperly Early Rhubarb for H and went home.

Sunday was Father's Day. I got to lie in. Then a cup of tea in bed. Miss L got me a gift and had my breakfast made for me when I finally decided to rise. H made made a full english for me. H has always had trouble with fried eggs. They nearly always end up crispy round the edges and runny in the middle however she is a dab hand at fried bread. Whilst there is fried bread, running yolk, brown sauce and hot tea on the go you won't hear any complaints from me. H was out on Saturday and bought a bunch of books from a local fair. I had just finished reading a book by Dave Crystal "By Hook or By Crook". It was a meander through the Welsh marches by way of India, America, texting, accents in Bees and other animals in search of language, dialects, idioms, Pubs names and the roots of village and towns names. It took me ages to read it. A couple of pages at breakfast, half a chapter at dinner time and here and there when I had a few minutes spare. H met Crystal at a recent seminar to do with her current work and was blown away by his ideas. I just enjoyed the book. I have started another book. One Man's Furrow by Reg Gammon. It is sub-titled "Ninety Years of Country Living". He was born into farming stock in 1894. He was a writer, artist and countryman. He made a name for himself writing for the Touring Cycling magazine and other periodicals. He even went to Galway, Eire in the thirties on cycling holiday. Some of my readers might know why that is important to me. It was an easy read and I finished it Monday evening.

Because it was my day off H decided we should go for a walk. The signs were ominous. H got her boots out, her rucksack, stick and made sandwiches. H said airily that we take a walk to Overseal by way of Donisthorpe, Acresford and Netherseal. That is all well and good but Overseal is a couple of miles from our house and that was supposed to be the end of the walk! It was a nice day and I was still happy about the lottie. As usual after a couple of miles I had to take over the navigation as we went through new territory for us. It was a hot day and a gentle breeze that was very drying. We had to detour round some fields. They grow cows round here and the fields seem to be full of: Bullocks being fattened, they are frisky buggers and would quite happily trample you under foot as they barge about the field. Heifers with a Bull or the old ladies with calves, with or without a bull. In any case beef on the hoof is trouble. It just come in different sizes but they all seem to be brown. H's route manged to miss all the village centres and the pubs found therein. We bent the rules a bit by skirting Overseal and headed for Shortheath, a hamlet that has a beaten up sign that proclaims "The Centre of England". It is only half an hour walk to our house from Shortheath. It was interesting to see the villages from a different perspective.

Monday night a hopped up to the lottie after Tea and did some serious watering and a bit of light hand weeding. The Fat Hen is making a bid at the moment but it is only growing in a small area of bed 3. Odd but never mind.