Some people celebrate new year in January with fireworks and champagne. Some people sense a new start in September, all new notebooks and sharpened pencils. I come alive in when the soil does. As the green weeds cover the patches of mud, as the buds of blossom bursts my gardening year starts.

 

This is usually towards the end of March. This year is slightly askew, and I find myself in April before the sensation of hope arrives at Malus Farm. The cold and wet has slowed everything down, the only upside of which is that everything is now arriving together. A clash of narcissi and tulips, Amelanchier and cherry. Wild garlic merging in with the cow parsley.

 

I need to clear space for all the sweet peas that are going out and harvest a wheelbarrow full of leeks. They are slowly braised in butter, stirred into stilton and eggs, and baked into a quiche. Not a picnic quiche; even when the sun is out, one cannot mistake April for June. But eaten in the middle of the day, catching the rays of the unfamiliar sun, there is bliss. From barren to abundant in the space of a week.

 

Talking of wild garlic, things to do with it, apart from pesto:

Wild garlic salt by Lucy Brazier

‘Not only are flavoured salts quick and easy to make, but they instantly transform the most basic of dishes. All you need is 125g of good quality, flaky sea salt, 25g wild garlic and a sterilised jam jar. Wash and dry the garlic leaves and trim the stalks before blitzing them in a blender or food processor with a third of the salt. Add this paste to a mixing bowl with the rest of the salt and combine thoroughly. Spread out the salt mix on a tray covered in baking parchment and leave it somewhere warm and safe to dry out for at least 12 hours. When the salt is dry to the touch decant it into a sterilised jam jar, or several tiny ones if you are giving as gifts. The salt can be stored in the fridge or a dark cupboard. Sprinkle liberally as a seasoning. It’s an absolute winner on boiled eggs.’

 

Wild garlic & Cheese scones by KaT Goldin

Ingredients:

150g sharp cheddar – grated

230g plain flour

1t baking powder

½ t bicarb

½ t salt

50g of chopped wild greens (dandelion, wild chives, steamed nettles, spinach and/or wild garlic work well here, as does cooked, chopped broccoli)

125g cold butter

200g 100% hydration starter

120g milk

Method:

1. Cut the cold butter into small pieces and mix with the flour, salt, bicarb and baking soda until it resembles crumbs.

2. Mix in the grated cheese and chopped greens.

3. Mix the starter and milk and add to the flour mix.

4. Mix just until everything is incorporated.

5. Roll out to about 3cm thick and cut scones.

6. Bake at 180F for 10 minutes or until brown.

 

Harvest

Fill your house with tulips. Give some daffodils to a loved one. Brown paper and string can make anyone into a florist.

Cut one huge branch of blossom and put it somewhere prominent. It might be fleeting, but it is all the more incredible for that.

Also out now:

/ Brunnera

/ The last narcissi (or it would be if the narcissi weren’t so late this year)

/ Japanese quince

/ Amelanchier

/ Brunnera

/ Fritillaria

/ The first red & white campions

/ Grape hyacinths

/ Primroses

/ Leucojum

 

TRAINING & NURTURING Roses

I have quite a few of the taller, longer roses. I have lost track of what is a climber and what a rambler, or indeed what is just a shrub rose with ambition (that’ll be Claire Austin, but I forgive her because of the incredible cupped blooms) but anything with a long, thorny cable is getting the Niff Barnes treatment. By which I mean twirled and circled and tied back on itself. I am starting with the easiest, a long but well-behaved white rose on the studio. It was a gift from someone via Joshua Sparkes and therefore, characteristic of the chaos of the genius that is Mr Sparkes, arrived without a label. It may be Félicité-Perpétue, it may not be. Either way, now is the time to start either twirling new rose growth into interesting shapes, or tying it in to hazel domes, depending on how you grow your roses.

 

If they are really putting on growth, give them a good mulch and a feed. If you are lucky enough to have comfrey in abundance, a scattering of that at their feet never goes amiss.

 

Start dahlia tubers

I thought I had enough dahlias. But one must always hedge ones bets with dahlias because there is the risk of losing them in a long wet winter. I fear the ones I left in the ground may be gone forever, although they have surpised me before. The second consequence of such a wet season so far is that there are slugs everywhere and when the tubers first shoot, there can be a perfect balance between the rate of growth on a dahlia and the rate at which a slug can consume it. They sit there looking like they aren’t doing anything, but they are. As the soil gets warmer and the sun grows stronger, the dahlias win the battle of attrition and burst into bushy growth. Right now, that’s the thing I am hoping for. I may be waiting in vain.

 

And so I bought some more. Despite the focus on seeds and drought-tolerant, low maintenance perennials, I cannot resist a dahlia tuber. Some tubers intended for cutting arrived from Halls of Heddon last week, with a promise that the rooted cuttings will follow. I feel so indulgent, I dig out the old seed I saved from Bryn Terfel last year, because Philippa of Just Dahlias inspired me to try my own dahlia breeding. And then I shuffle through the seed box until I find the packet of seeds from Chilterns, ‘Sunny Reggae’ because Arthur Parkinson keeps telling me that the big ruffled dinnerplate dahlias to which I am addicted are no good for the bees. What with all of the extra seedlings I am expecting, I had better turn over a few more beds to the dahlias.

 

Water

Although it has absolutely poured with rain all March, pots and containers can get be surprisingly dry, especially for those stuffed with flowering spring bulbs. Water and, in the case of tulips, give a fortnightly feed.

 

Weed

Keeping the soil covered is key, even if what is covering it is not something you would have chosen. At this stage, soft annual weeds might be a good thing but bindweed never is. Pull it out. There are some lessons that you have to learn over and over again and mine is mulching. I have some beds that I cleared last autumn and they were full of weed seed and they have been an absolutely pain to get back on top of. My least favourite weeding is where grasses have started to take hold. The smaller clumps will hoe off, leaving the soil undisturbed, but where you have to pull out the roots, it leaves a horrible hole. Blissfully, the beds that are full of weeds are very much a minority because I mulched the absolute socks off everything else. The kitchen garden is covered in old thatch, and the perennial borders with woodchip. Apart from the edges where it is thinner or the odd bit of cleaver that has come through and easily whipped out, it is all looking amazing. And ready to plant with the hundreds and hundreds of seedlings that are bursting out of the greenhouse.

 

We are only two days into this warm dry spell, and already I have heard the thrum of a lawnmower in the village. The churchyard is done every fortnight whether it is January or July, so that has punctuated the winter, regardless of conditions. However, I will give it one or two more days before I attempt a mow. The only grassed area I have now is the orchard, and I don’t mow it for recreational purposes, I want the grass. It is absolute rocket fuel for the compost heap Keep turning (and cover if it has got too wet with all this rain) and keep adding to it. I have a lot of fresh growth weeds that I am piling on it at the moment so keep some woodchip or cardboard to mix through to balance it out.

 

Plant

Bare roots

We are absolutely at the tail end of the bare root season although I have some peonies and geums that have been languishing in the bootroom for longer than I care to share. Now the air is warming up and I know that the soil will follow, it is time to get them into the ground. There are also some impulse buys from David Austin that I haven’t quite got space for but they need to be planted regardless. Maybe in a big pot for now.

 

Over-wintered plants

Plant out any autumn-sown hardy annuals and any young perennials that you kept under cover for safety over the winter. Check the weather forecast for any really cold nights before you commit to putting them in the ground, and maybe ease them into the transition by having days outdoors and then nights back under glass for a week or so. If you are planning any shrubs, buy them now and get them in over the next few weeks to get the longest growing season possible. You might not notice a difference this year, but getting a good long summer to establish will mean that they thrive in the future.

 

Sweet peas

Plant out your winter-sown sweet peas. They might be starting to put on spring growth so increase watering. A bit of manure or a good rich home-made compost will give them a boost, although mine sulk for a fortnight however I plant them out. I have gone for twiggy hazel support this year, but however twiggy, tie them in to get them started.

 

Celebrate the return of real warmth. Glorious. But don’t pack away your woollens yet; April is a fickle month and chilly nights are still possible.

 

Seeds to sow

With the exception of biennials, you can sow almost every sort of seed in April. If your soil is warm enough, direct sow. Just clear some ground, make a narrow, shallow trench in the soil, sprinkle the seed sparingly, re-cover with soil and water gently but generously.

Sow little and often. This not only protects you if one sowing doesn’t thrive for some reason, but successional sowing is the key to a long, abundant flower season.

HARDY ANNUALS

There are a vast number to choose from, but these are my absolute favourites. Easy, forgiving, abundant.

/ White corncockles

/ Borage

/ Bishops flower (Ammi majus)

/ Love in a mist

/ Cornflowers

/ Chocolate lace flower (Daucus carota ’Dara’, technically a biennial but they will flower in the first year)

/ Opium poppies

/ Mixed scabious

/ Greater Quaking grass

/ Bladder campion

/ Smoky fennel

/ Sweet peas

/ Cerinthe

/ Larkspur

HALF-HARDY ANNUALS

You could start half-hardy annuals in March but I find I am so busy and the greenhouse is so full, I am better off waiting until the autumn-sown hardy annuals are all planted out. There is never enough space at this time of year. The exception to this is the lovely Cobaea; it needs a really long growing season so start early March on a warm windowsill or on a heat mat.

/ Cosmos

/ Strawflowers

/ Nicotiana

/ Tagetes

/ Nasturtiums

/ Sunflowers (I adore ’Italian White’ or try ’Vanilla Ice’)