Kneeling down even with my little cushion can be hard, but
the weeding must be done and I love to see the plot looking tidy and free of
weeds. I look over to the bench and because it’s a windy cold snap Lottie is
snuggled down, curled up and having a nap.
I return to the weeds between the rocket and the lettuce.
There’s not many weeds so it is easy and a gentle hand fork down the space between
the rows is all that is needed.
‘Are you going to do round the mange tout?’ I hear in my
ear.
I look around and there perched of the end of the scaffold
board walkway stands Robin my red-breasted friend.
‘I’ll do it next,’ I offer with my head down focused on my
current area.
‘You’ve grown far too much of that stuff,’ declares Robin
pointing his right wing towards the lettuce.
‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘Of course you do. Mind, you could feed an army on what you
have grown there.’ Robin offers with a sarcastic smirk across his beak.
I look at the tight tidy rows of lettuce, red and green
salad bowl and lolla rossa grown from seeds I bought back from Spain, wild
rocket and more. I better not admit it to Robin, but I did sow a bit too much.
However, the recent weather has been hot and we were eating salad on our
balcony every day. Now the weather has once again changed and we are back to
the vegetables and inside. The lettuce is disappointed to be left waiting to
mix it with the others in the salad spin washer and the cucumbers are starting
too mount up to but they can always be used in drinks. Lottie will not eat salad
and will peck it out and spit it onto the floor.
Judging how much to grow is an art form. It’s not just about
getting the sowing right, bringing them on, judging the weather and hoping it
all comes together correctly. The right amount of anything is probably the
biggest challenge and then there is succession sowing to ensure that you don’t
have salad for just a couple of weeks in summer when it’s raining and cold.
Storing, bottling and freezing excess can be a challenge not
just of how but with space. We have only just finished last year’s tomatoes and
beans out the freezer. I like squash best. They can just sit there doing
nothing and waiting literally months for you to decide to cook them. If only
others could follow their example.
We as an allotment have started to collect any excess
produce and donate it to a local community kitchen run by the farm. It can be
difficult to even donate food this way as those receiving it need to understand
how to cook or prepare it and even want it. It must be fresh and used fresh. I
would think in today’s climate and with the demand on food banks, charity
kitchens etc that donating it would be easy, but it is far from it. WE are not
allowed to sell or give it to commercial organisations such as restaurants and
it is primarily for family only.
‘Have you finished yet only I’ve a family to feed?’ Robin
asks impatiently.
‘In a minute.’
I get up stretch, pick up my bucket half full of weeds, fork
and kneeling cushion and move over to the mange tout.
I can almost hear Robin salivating at the thought of fresh
grubs.
‘Can’t you put mulch around all the plants? It encourages my
food.’ Robin says as he starts to follow me along the rows. He stops, cocks his
head to listen and then with the precision of a heron fishing, swoops his beak
into the ground and then pulls out a grub. Next minute he is gone and moments
later returns to repeat the process. It’s like a drive-through food bar for
him.
I look at the Mange Tout and think at least these can go
with salad, be steamed or thrown in a stir-fry or curry. Why can’t more be like
that?
Perhaps I need to grow less of more and not get sucked into
mass sowing and potting on exercises. Mind you this year I am looking after my
neighbour Anna’s plot whilst she is in isolation and guess what, I know there are
too many spuds, courgettes, and squash. I can only hope she comes back soon as
I don’t have space for this harvest.
‘Stop daydreaming and lets get over to that bean area now,’
demands a hungry Robin.
