A Country Diary - 48
21 September 2006
IT’S BEEN three months since the last country diary. How slack I have been. Must try harder. I resolve henceforward to write them weekly. The summer was long and hot and we had a great visit from Crass founders Penny and Bron, who completely renovated our front garden, planted an apple tree, built a bench and did most of this work either completely naked (Penny) or topless (Bron) which must have caused raised eyebrows when the farmer drove past in his tractor. Four chicks were born but all died within a couple of weeks — we suspect that they were trodden on by children or dies after being over-squeezed. So that was sad. The garden supplied huge amounts of Duke of York potatoes, peas, French climbing beans — purple in colour — lettuces and chard. The roots were very slow and today the beetroot, which I sowed months and months ago, are still tiny. Half of the carrots never germinated and I wonder whether that root plot was low on fertility. Having said that, though, the parsnips are flourishing. Leeks have done well, too: a couple have gone to seed already, producing those strange-looking sci-fi bulbs at the top of the plant. We’ve got loads of lovely Red marner cabbages about to be ready for picking. My big failure was not to sow lettuce often enough. We had a good supply for a while but I kept procrastinating my sowing which is a daft thing to do. Next year I am going to do more parsley, too. My friend Alan gave me two coriander plants which instantly flowered and then died, so I don’t know what went wrong there. Loads of rocket self-seeded from last year, plus there were piles of mint and camomile everywhere. Things are a total mess up there right now, but the brassicas have stayed alive. All grown from seed, we have a few cabbages, three kale, three brussels sprouts and I’ve just sown a few more cabbages. I did plant out six brassicas in the front garden but all but one were lost to snails and slugs. I also plan to get down to the nursery and buy some brassica plants and fill up most of the rest of the plot with them. With any luck it will provide leeks, parsnips, kale, sprouts, broccoli, chard and cabbage all winter.
A NEW BUNNY has arrived, a gift from our neighbour Caroline. She is called snowflake and is big of ear and shaggy of coat. Very cute. This time we are keeping her in a hutch, with regular outdoor or kitchen sessions. The other two have become so wild that they are impossible to pick up and stroke. So at least while she’s young, we are going to keep Snowflake a bit more domesticated.
NO HEN deaths to report. On our fourth attempt at chickens seems to be going all right, touch wood. We get, I suppose, three eggs a day out of six hens. The cockerel, as Caroline pointed out, is a real gent. When food is thrown to them, he always waits until the ladies have all had their fill before moving in and eating himself. We shut their door at night when we remember, and keep them inside in the morning so they don’t wander off and lay the eggs in a secret spot. Last week we were wondering why we weren’t getting many eggs and then Arthur and I found a pile of 15 in an obscure corner of an obscure outbuilding.
ARTHUR has been helping me run the Idler’s mail order operation. We have had a few problems due going on holiday and getting behind, but we are gradually catching up. Arthur finds the book or t-shirt, gives it to me, I pack it and address it, he weighs it, I look up the postage cost, give him the stamps and he writes Small Packet or Parcel on the item. Then they go into the sack to be collected the next morning by Steve the postman. Our mail problem at the moment is that the house always seems so dirty and messy. Try as we might, Victoria and I don’t seem to be able to get on top of it. Maybe this is a natural result of having three small children and lots of animals and working from home, I don’t know. Anyway, the carpet cleaners are coming today so maybe that will cheer us up.












"The answer to how to live is to stop thinking about it. And just to live. But you're doing that anyway. However you intellectualise it, you still just live."