Sunday, not exactly a ‘day of rest’, as there was work to do in the garden, work which resulted in me becoming covered in little sticky seed-balls — whomever invented Velcro must have been inspired by them. I pick the shot also for the surprisingly rugged little landscape formed by my clothing (with the knee mountain rising in the background). The jumper was destined for the washing machine soon afterwards, though.
It’s only ten days since I depicted the loganberries, but the fruit on the neigbouring jostaberry plant just looks so succulent at the moment, and there’s lots of it. I think I will try making jam with it. Jostas are a cross between blackcurrants and gooseberries and, according to the Bible (OK, Wikipedia), were first cultivated in Germany and first made available to the public in 1977. The original scientists can be assured that in the climate of Hebden Bridge their creation is doing very well.
Fruit is just so much easier to grow than vegetables. You really don’t need to do much work and that suits my gardening style. While we were in Norway, the garden experienced ten days of warm weather with occasional showers, and things have responded accordingly. I didn’t pick these two today — they’re not quite ready — but there were plenty more around the place.
It’s time these went into the garden, to be honest, but in the last few days the rain has come down and grubbing around in dirt is less appealing. A few days ago I noted there was not going to be much variety on here for a while, and so it has proven; a sixth post in the last seven from Hebden Bridge, and the third to have been taken in or from the house. You can tell it’s our place because of the grubby windows: and apparently they were cleaned on Monday.
This year’s peas and beans are getting a relatively hi-tech home, none of this cheap cane-based arrangement this year. The frame is up, I help Clare sort out the netting, while she practices putting her feet at right angles for a minute or two.
Another day with very little to see, but as the sun was shining the garden once again obliges. These little red flowers are due to become green beans, and I believe that’s a junior version already curving itself attractively down towards the bottom of the picture. Vegetables and fruits of all kinds have done very well this year, even for a black-fingered (opposite of green-fingered) doofus like me.
Time for the annual update on the plum tree, which shed one of its limbs a couple of weeks ago, though we did save most of the fruit, currently ripening (but obviously not still growing) on windowsills at home. Had I not made efforts to prop up this big branch it would also, surely, have fallen by now, but those efforts seem to have been successful. There are a lot of insects around this year, so we are in a war of attrition as to who gets the bounty first, but we’re working on it.
Yesterday’s journey home was done with Joe in attendance. Up on the allotment, the hedge needed trimming. A conjunction of child, hedge and the necessary hardware was facilitated. All parties seemed reasonably satisfied with the outcome.
Going on the number of plumlings that currently festoon the tree, I predict that come around late July, the whole thing is going to fall over. Should it stay standing, even 2023’s glut (forty-four pounds of fruit) may be surpassed.
Hello, it’s day 4,999. I’d better not forget to get the camera out at some point tomorrow.
So, at least a few of the tomato flowers (as pictured on May 23rd) have made an effort: although don’t imagine that this fruit is very big, nor that there are very many of them. This agriculture lark is not straightforward…
Being 42 