Didn’t amount to a hill of beans
Before I get started, some news. A commitment that I am going to spend more of my time doing things that make me happy. One of the things that I love the most is writing this newsletter and taking these photos for you. I have been thinking for a while about how to take this to the next stage and combine it with being incredibly curious about other people’s lives and gardens and I think I have come up with a solution. Would you like to join Gather? Absolutely non-cliquey, incredibly inclusive, blissful and calm and fascinating space for people who love growing and gardening. I have put some details here, mostly because now I have told you, it’s out there and I can’t back out. Have a look and reply to this email and let me know what you think. Wouldn’t it make a lovely present for someone?
Last thing, promise. Lots of work behind the scenes on accountability and social justice here. I am not going to make a song and a dance about it because it should just be a given, but if you would like to read more about it, there are some details here.
Ok, here’s the week. Don’t forget to tie your sweet peas in. They’ll probably need a feed too. And keep cutting all the annuals.
Monday 15th June. I walk to and fro in the orchard. From the compost heap to the emerging dahlias, from the cosmos that need thinning to the archway into the flower field. Each time passing the cherry tree. Somehow I manage to make even a walk from the back door to the studio go the very long way round and pass the cherry tree. They are almost almost ready, but I cannot leave them and on each pass I take a couple more and eat them then and there. I choose the ripest ones I can that have not yet been carried off by the birds but I know they are on borrowed time.
Tuesday 16th June. Rolling thunder and not a drop of rain. At first it just seems to be a tractor in the distance but then the rumbles come closer. The sky stays resolutely blue and we sit drinking tea in the orchard in the storm that isn't quite a storm. My mother brings scones and Hugo shouts at the noise.
Wednesday 17th June. Not even the Solstice, but there are signs of the harvest to come. Plums, green and hard but definitely plums, stud the hedges. There are hazelnuts in the windbreak next the the greenhouse, the most delicate shade of fresh pale green. Anticipating the weather breaking, we walk the dogs early and I am devastated to find that the weld (Reseda luteola) that had been growing enthusiastically by the back gate to the Old Mill and upon which I had my eye has been strimmed to the ground. I have grown some from seed but not nearly enough to dye anything, and I was relying upon these wild ones to supplement my supply.
Thursday 18th June. The rain comes down in stair rods. Some plants buckle under the torrent, and some seem to grow inches in a day. The paths are covered by collapsed ox-eyes and grasses and walking anywhere means legs soaked from mid-thigh down. Some beetroot seed that I had long given up on (it was direct sown in early April and showed absolutely no signs of doing anything) suddenly appear in a sharp line. Turns out they just needed a proper drenching, and they were simply waiting for their moment.
Friday 19th June. As much as I am cheered by the beetroot, I am disappointed by the broad beans. I did everything right and they have just sulked. They have been absolutely covered in blackfly, they have been pale and floppy, and generally just miserable looking. I don't mind too much as I don't really like broad beans, but they are taking up space and I want to get the borlotto (a non-climbing borlotti) beans in their place. I take much satisfaction in pulling them out. I harvest what there is. Barely a saucer of beans in varying sizes. Hardly worth cooking. A very very small casserole.
We'll be adding some edible seeds to the shop at the end of August. The kitchen garden collection will be a few of the seeds that I love growing and eating. Cavalo Nero. Mange Tout (if you grew some of mine from the beginning of lockdown, have you had the flowers turn blue yet? It happens just before the pods form. Just astonishing.)
Broad beans will not be on the list. If you insist on growing them, you can buy the seed from someone else.
Saturday 20th June. Some tours around the garden are on my instagram feed. I got a bit carried away and they were quite long, I'll try and make them a bit more focused in the future. I enjoyed making them, once I got past the self-consciousness and the preoccupation that people would judge me for the nettles under the crab apples and how flat my Highgrove meadow is. Hugo features.
I try and weed, and try and make compost, and try and trim the hedge down the long side, but it keeps raining and I give up and play with my new camera and a jug of chicory. It has taken me weeks to get it out of the box and now I can't put it down.
