Tuesday, 21 March 2017

The Pasta Spoon Revelation

Every once in a while you get a 'light bulb' moment.  You know, when you hear or read something that makes you go... 'Of course! Why didn't I see that?'

Now you probably already knew this, but that hole in your pasta spoon is there for a reason.  It measures out one perfect adult portion of pasta.  Of course it does! 

Thursday, 16 March 2017

Bean Sticks

The seed peas in the polytunnel have grown into proper little plants complete with tendrils.  It won't be long until they are ready to go out into the garden but before I plant them I need to make some supports for those tiny tendrils to twine around. 

I will probably make traditional bamboo tee pees for the runner beans and climbing peas. 

I like the look of these cane fences for the bush peas and beans.  

I've been doing some 'research' on plant supports and found lots of lovely ideas, for example, this rustic string bean trellis. 

Imagine the scent of sweet peas when you walk under this simple archway made of tied twigs.

I was really impressed with this Gothic arch made from green sticks, not that I have any use it, but it is beautiful.  Do you have a clever way to support your climbing plants?  

Wednesday, 8 March 2017

The Watermelon Story or Sugar Babies

When I started to sow seeds for Sugar Baby watermelons my thoughts immediately turned to my late Uncle Shanny.  He was a brilliant gardener who grew these delicious little melons just for me.  So when I saw the seeds were available in our allotment seed catalogue I knew I had to try to grow some.

Now that the seedlings are up I am reminded of my little brother.  When he was just a tot, we were eating slices of watermelon in our back garden.  He took great delight in spitting the seeds as far as he could, usually to detriment of his little sneakers.  His aim or range wasn't good, anyway.... 

He asked our Dad, 'will these really make watermelons?' Daddy answered in the affirmative but said they must be planted first.  Little brother picked out a sticky seed from his slice of melon and with a podgy, little finger shoved it into the ground.  To make sure he'd properly planted it, he stomped the seed further into the soil with his foot.  'There', he said, 'that will grow'.  Dad and I exchanged knowing looks.  This little seed didn't have a chance.  How wrong you can be! It did grow and produced a proper melon.  I can only hope I am half as lucky with these little seedlings, my first ever crop of Sugar Babies.