Sunshine after the rain


While it has inconvenienced us humans the last few weeks, the weather has provided ideal growing conditions for our gardens. Good drownings of rain, followed by generous doses of sunshine. Though by mid-May it still feels like things are behind given the slow start we got off to following the delayed then drawn-out winter and inclement early spring.


One of the three raspberry canes I planted is showing leaves. I was delayed planting these by early spring deluges, so am delighted to see at least one of them coming to life.


Mange tout tendrils are starting to reaching out toward their climbing frame.


And the green beans have finally joined the party. I was starting to fret about them.


Strawberries coming along nicely.


Potatoes recently earthed up and looking healthy.


Tomato seedlings are on a go slow in the greenhouse, and no sign of the aubergines germinating yet (I’ve put down another batch and crossed my fingers it’ll stay warm enough to encourage them out).


The ever expanding rosemary needs a good prune.


Madge’s roses are getting ready to burst forth in the coming weeks.


Our little bee sanctuary at the back of the garden is coming along nicely.



First day of summer 2019…

…according to some people in Ireland anyway (we don’t want to wait till June).

The garden is starting to take shape after a little growth spurt, and most of our big jobs are done (bar new fencing, painting etc etc etc).

Garlic patch
Mange tout seedlings
Chives and spring onions
Rosemary and sage in rockery 1 (former coal bunker) are thriving. Currant bushes starting to put on more leaves.
Frame for peas, mange tout and green beans
Rockery 2 (former shed) with new plants including lavender, curry, heather and flowers including lupins
Succulent patch getting juicier daily
The liberated laburnum is starting to fill out and flower
Carrot seedlings
Glasshouse goodies

The waiting game


I haven’t had much to say here over the past two months on the garden front, as I’ve been doing more waiting than working.

Waiting first for the weather to warm enough to start seedlings and direct planting (garlic and potatoes are down, various seedlings now started in the glasshouse but a ways off being ready for their next phase). Then we decided to knock down the old brick shed at the bottom of the garden, a sixty-year-old structure that was becoming increasingly death-trap like. (Upon knocking it down we realised that the bottom bricks –some extra heavy precursor to the breeze block – had turned almost to soil). Then the rain started again, turning a three/four day exercise into a three week one (which is still ongoing at time of writing).

The shed turned brickery

Sifting through the wet detritus has been a thankless, backbreaking job – as we try to fashion the heavy blocks of the shed into a ‘brickery’ in the style of our coal shed brickery towards the front of the garden – which we hope will be a bee paradise filled with lavenders and hyssops and rosemary and all sorts of lovely bushy flowering plants. 

The garden transformed: April 2018

This time last year, we had transformed our garden from the plant and muck heap jungle we found on moving in, to an ivy-free orderly growing space with raised beds, a little glass house and new bamboo screening to take the edge off the hodgepodge fencing behind. We were delighted with ourselves. And then, after the unnervingly hot summer, storm after storm battered the place, ripping away the screening, soaking the soil built up around the shed and making it ever more precarious.

A work in progress, again: April 2019

Hopefully in a month or so, a [brief] harmony will be restored and we can focus on the lovely business of watching new things grow. But who knows what the weather will bring. My money’s on ever more extremes.


New Year compost resolutions

I’m starting a new batch of compost. And I’m going to do it right this time, layering my greens and browns, chopping up the plant waste nice and small, keeping the teabags, egg shells and hard to break-down bits to a minimum.

I’ve been using a wheelie bin with a makeshift door cut into the bottom for my compost. It’s not ideal as there’s no drainage in the bottom, but I don’t have an area of ground suitable for an open bottom bin or a heap, so it’s the best solution currently.


About two-thirds of the contents of the compost bin was ready for use (though the lowest parts were very heavy on the egg shells and tea bags), so I’ve transferred that into the largest of my raised beds (which needed a soil top up). I mixed the compost with fresh veg peelings and cuttings, and covered it all with layers of cardboard for the plentiful worms to work their magic on over the next couple of months.


I’ve lined the empty compost bin with cardboard for extra insulation during the cold months ahead, and laid a base brown layer of shredded cardboard and autumn leaves taken from my leaf mould stash.

My brown layer concoction of cardboard and sodden autumn leaves.

On top of that, I added some soil from last season’s grow pots, then a well-chopped up fruit and veg waste green layer, another brown layer, soil and more fresh material bringing the bin up to half way full.

I was less conscientious last year which led to unpleasant smelling and slow-to-break-down compost which wasn’t properly layered or aerated.

This year, I’ll do better!


New seeds have arrived!

My favoured seed suppliers, the Organic Centre in Leitrim, sent out their seed catalogue the other day, and I dutifully went through my seed box to see what I have and what I’d like and placed my first order of 2019.

Already the anticipation of the new year’s growing is upon me!


Including the seeds above, the list for this year’s growing includes:

Black and red currants
French beans*
Kale (as a sacrificial feast for the insects)
Mange tout*
New mints varieties*
Salad leaves
Spring onions

And maybe more…

*new for 2019

Winter wonderland for worms

I’ve covered our three raised beds with vegetable peelings and other organic detritus and a couple of layers of cardboard (one for eating, one for cover), converting them into wormy paradises for the winter time. I’ll add peelings and lighter vegetation every now and then so the worms have something fresh to munch on. Hopefully this will lead to both rich soil and healthy worms for the spring planting.

Worms galore gorging themselves on and under cardboard. January 2019.

Keeping soil fed and healthy

In a corner of the garden I’ve leaves slowly turning into leaf mould for enriching the beds and help the growth along in April/May.


And I plan to make excessive amounts of nettle tea over the coming weeks (just need the nettles to grow first) to use as feed throughout the growing season. I’ll need to invest in a face mask to avoid the stench. It is truly foul.

Nettle tea brewing
Super smelly nettle tea. Last brewed in Spring 2017.


2018 highlights: Gardening while Rome burns


What a year 2018 was. We had such weather extremes – multiple violent storms, the heavy snow in March, the rainless, intensely hot summer, the grey dampness of November and December, and now the unseasonable mildness that precedes a promised cold snap (or as it is better known, winter).

Climate change is here. For the last few years it was happening ‘over there’. And it wouldn’t be with us for years and years. But this year she flashed her ankles in earnest and put us in Western Europe in a bit of a daze. God knows how we’ll cope when her knees come out.

But rather than slip into helpless, horrified anxiety about the imminent end of civilisation as we know it… I’m going to distract myself with some of last year’s growing and gardening highlights.

January & February

These were months of heavy lifting as my beloved and I tried to transform our messy little corner of the urban hinterland into something more habitable. We shifted tonnes of earth around the garden into new raised beds and a rockery (dumping the rest around the sides and back of the freshly painted shed), and we lay paving stones where before a tangle of earth and weeds had been. And when that was all done I got sowing – garlic and shallots went into the ground, seed trays were filled, and potato chitting commenced.

Broccoli, lettuce, coriander and parsley seedlings starting on the windowsill
Chitting potatoes


Snow in March 2018
The dogs enjoying the early March snow

March opened very dramatically with many inches of snow falling in this part of the world. Everything ground to a halt (including bread deliveries, which sent the country into a frenzy of baked-goods hoarding). When I wasn’t sitting in our front window judging the people outside needlessly battling the drifts (they were out of bread presumably), I was at the back window fretting about my garlic and shallots, trapped under the icy snow. They survived, though the earth around them was heavily sodden for weeks after.

Spring sprang back later in March, and I was all about planting potatoes. It was my first time to grow them. And I found it very, very exciting.

Potatoes sown in raised beds, bags and pots. Late March 2018.


April & May

Our garden improvements continued apace, and in April and May we put up bamboo fencing to improve the look of the place, and assembled a lean-to glasshouse against the only available bit of actual wall in the garden, which thankfully also happens to be the sunniest spot. With our raised beds and our glasshouse, we were taking this home-growing business to a new level!

And all the while, I was diligently keeping my spud leaves insect free by hand, and earthing them up, and possibly singing to them.



Potatoes flourishing, mid-May 2018

May was also the month I discovered the mild narcotic effects of lemon balm. Good times.

June & July

And then it was time to start eating! June yielded strawberries, shallots, beetroot, lettuces, kale… And our first potatoes!

Storm Hector in June knocked the shit out of the bigger plants, including my beloved potatoes, but they all lived to see another day.

Windswept potatoes after Storm Hector, June 2018

The beans, peas, courgettes and tomatoes started to take off.

In July, the long heat wave began, and I watered as carefully and conservatively as I could. And thankfully the plants thrived throughout (well apart from some carrots and parsnips in too dry soil, and some potatoes scabbed through dehydration).

I harvested the remaining potatoes in the bed as they were coming under attack from insects (there were small holes in the majority of the bed crop, I wanted them out before too much damage was done. The skin on several of the potatoes shows scabbing – a symptom of not having enough water.

Plants that thrived to the point of becoming sinister were the hoikkaido squashes, whose ever-searching tendrils took over a substantial portion of the garden. Bean and pea pods swelled, little courgettes appeared, all my tomato plants started fruiting…

August & September

August was all about colour. Our wildflowers came up in abundance, helping us do our bit for the bees. The tomatoes started to ripen from shades of orange into deep, delicious reds. And the courgette glut commenced.

The crystal cucumbers were also ready to eat. Sadly, I was their only fan.

Lemon crystal cucumbers. Delicious served cold from the fridge with a little rice wine vinegar/soy sauce/sesame seed combo. A delicate lemon flavour and crisp flesh.

September ticked along nicely giving us a plentiful supply of tomatoes, courgettes, and loads of spring onions.

October, November & December

When the excitement of the glut died down, so did my gardening and blogging enthusiasm.

I didn’t have much in the ground for winter – my pot-based carrots weren’t doing well into October, November. Ditto the bed-based beetroots. The sprouts, thankfully, had made it through storms and rain to Christmas time, providing the traditional excessive festive flatulence. And my kale plants, of course, are looking fresher and lovelier by the day. And are, as usual, going largely uneaten (I just can’t warm to the stuff).

There are still plenty of little sproutlets to be harvested, the last tomatoes are changing colour in a ‘sunny’ spot on the kitchen counter, and my flat leaf parsley seems to just love the current grey and largely damp weather conditions.

One of the main learnings from the year that was is that squash takes over the garden, and I’m not all that keen on eating it. So that’s off the list. Another is that runner beans need to be eaten whole when they’re young and tender – and there’s only so many you can eat so don’t bother growing so many. So they’re probably off the list too.

My peas didn’t do well this year, and I think I heard that this was a common issue among growers in 2018, so I’ll try again next year and just up the number planted.

For a second year my shallots didn’t keep past a few weeks, so I think I’ll admit defeat on that front and pour my onion energy into leeks, spring onions and chives instead. I’m still working through the summer’s garlic haul so they’re a keeper.

Also, in a small garden and given how long they take to grow and the amount of water input required I’m not going to bother with broccoli in 2019 either.

New on the menu will be aubergines in the glasshouse (and tomatoes and chillies if there’s room), the aforementioned leeks, french beans and maybe mange tout. Plus all the usual suspects, including excessive amounts of potatoes. Roosters this time I think.

In the meantime there is much work to be done on the garden. The bamboo fencing got blown to bits in the various storms, our brick shed is a damp and dingy place that needs to be demolished, and everything generally looks like crap.

Let the fun begin…