This week in the garden I am very much hoping that things falling off or being cut off is not fatal.
The falling off was the courgette flowers. I’ve got two courgette plants, one hasn’t flowered yet, but the other had two nice sunshine yellow flowers on, and I was starting to wonder whether this time I might actually manage to grow a courgette or two. But open recent inspection, both flowers had sort of shrivelled up a bit and when I gently touched one it fell off, shortly followed by the other one who clearly just wanted to drive the point home. There aren’t any courgettes following behind them, or even any hint of a courgette, just a nice green stem that looks as though it’s been chopped. There are still signs of flowers to come on both plants so I’m hoping that these were a sort of pre-courgette flower that are absolutely designed to fall off, and the real ones, and the veggies themselves, will come later in the year. Is that even a possibility?
The cutting off I’m slightly less worried about, because I was following instructions. My lovely friend Mandy came over this week to put the world to rights with me and cherish her goddaughter (Kitty) and gave me a beautiful Ben Tirran blackcurrant bush. I love love love blackcurrants but I’ve only got as far as strawberries in the soft fruit growing department so this was the perfect present. It smelled amazing too; just like tomatoes plants smell tomatoey before the fruit comes, so do blackcurrant bushes.
Well, did blackcurrant bushes in this case.
We followed the planting instructions to the letter, including a nice long soak in a bucket of water and lots of water afterwards, and then under pruning it said “after planting, prune all stems back to 5cm above the ground.” What! really. You want me to chop this beautiful blackcurrant bush down to the ground. I know all the experience gardeners will tell me it’s absolutely right and it’s to help the bush get well established and so it doesn’t matter if not all the roots like the transplant, but goodness me does it feel all wrong.
We read, reread and read again, and finally, I took the secateurs to it. It’s a leap of gardening faith if every I made one, more so than planting seeds, because with seeds you do at least feel like you’re doing things in the right order, Oats and Beans and Barley Grow style.
And how is the rest of it doing? Well the beans are getting used to their new home. I’m reliably informed that they will grow just a bit taller than the canes I’ve allowed, bit being the understatement of the century but we’ll cross that bridge as and when we come to it. I’m still not completely confident in my ability to not kill them somehow, though I do have my first little bean flower and the promise of more to come.
The strawberries in Patch B are turning red and being scooped off the plants by eager little fingers (and slightly larger fingers) whenever possible. We’re getting a lovely crop off them and we’ve still plenty more ripening.
And over on the other side I’ve weeded out the garlic bed with a thought to planting a quick summer crop, and we’re picking onions as and when we need them. Strawberry Patch A acquired an ants nest, or rather I lifted a strawberry circle and discovered they’d moved in a while ago so the semolina is, according to the internet, a way to discourage them from eating the last few strawberries. I may also be feeding the slugs but so far no slugs spotted and the remaining strawberries are unmolested.
And while all this goes on, the back of my mind is planning next year. I’m thinking of either moving Strawberry Patch A or replacing it; I read somewhere this week that I can’t find anymore that you shouldn’t grow strawberries in the same spot year after year because it attracts things that eat your strawberries, I don’t know how true that is, but I am thinking of at least uniting the strawberries and having one fruit bed and one veg bed. And if we get away without setting up another bed this autumn I shall be very very surprised!
The Pocket Handkerchief Garden so far: