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My Duke of York first earlies have been chitting for a month. The sprouting stems look so freaky; purple, misshapen and macabre. I got a bit carried away with the computer and did some funky arty ones:
These are going in the ground this weekend – weather permitting. I'll be earthing them up by mid April – weather permitting. And I should get edible spuds in late May – weather per... ah, sod it. You get the picture.
Nothing more delicious – or more satisfying to grow – than a cauliflower. Raising a good cauli is one of the great challenges of vegetable gardening. If you can manage it, the sheer excitement is life-threatening.
Perhaps I should get out more.
Anyway, to get good early summer cauliflowers it's best to sow indoors now. I'll harden these off and plant out in mid to late March.
The tortoise-like progress of celeriac seedlings astounds me. A month after sowing, they've just grown their first true leaf. How did celeriac survive before it was domesticated?
Its preference for boggy conditions can't be coincidence; it relied on herbivorous dinosaurs drowning in the swamp before they got close enough to scoff it.
Notice anything odd about this January King cabbage? Something a little incongruous, perhaps?
Clue: Look at the calendar. It's the end of February. And this bugger's only just starting to head.
I could rant and rail. I'm tempted. But the truth is, it's my own fault. I was so convinced we'd get a warm autumn that I sowed these in July. With the lousy weather we had, they didn't have time to head for winter.
Now they'll probably bolt the moment it warms up. With luck I may get small, crappy heads. Instead of January King, it'll be March Stunted Prince.
Very flattered to be given a vote of confidence by Melinda at Elements in Time. I'd like to thank my wife, my agent and my pussycat.
Ashamed to say I'm ducking the challenge of naming 10 other excellent blogs. Seems invidious to pick out 'specials' from so many great bloggers. Suffice to say that every site in my 'Other Blogs' list has my implicit approval. I enjoy them all.
Seeing as it's still winter, and I still can't sow seed seriously (wow, get that alliteration), I'm reduced to posting more flower pix. Check out this gorgeous Paphiopedilum orchid:
PS I'm aware this is a vegetable gardening blog. Honest. Cut me some slack here.
Well, here it is. Spring has sprung. This gorgeous daffodil had barely opened before it was felled by a -5C frost last night. But hey. It's the thought that counts.
Visited the new glasshouse at Wisley RHS yesterday. Was amused to see this pendulous 'flower', which put me in mind of... well, it made my wife laugh, anyway.
So here's a Soilman quiz: What is it? No cash prizes for correct answers, I'm afraid, just the Shackleton Special.
It's time to sow lily seeds. Lilies can flower in their first season if you get cracking early. For those who got some Regale lily seeds in the Soilman seed giveaway last year, here's how to germinate them:
Put the pot on a sunny windowsill. The seeds should germinate in 7-10 days.
Remove the plastic once the seedlings are obviously established. The pot can go in a cold frame in mid to late March – but acclimatise the seedlings slowly.
I still have some seed left. Email me if you'd like a packet.
What a fabulous weekend for growing vegetables. Planted two rows of Jerusalem artichokes. Gastronomically speaking, this is terrific news.
From a flatulence point of view, it's not so great. To say artichokes make you fart is like saying castor oil eases constipation. More than a very few mouthfuls and British Gas could plug you into the national grid.
Not that I care. I love 'chokes and I don't mind farting. So there. Stick that in your pipe and, er, don't light it.
In other news, I'm still harvesting carrots, leeks and parsnips.
Hungry gap? What hungry gap?
A fortnight after sowing, the celeriac's finally germinated. Now for the really tedious bit.
Celeriac is the snail of the vegetable world. Watching it grow is like waiting for the Sphinx to crumble into desert sand; you know it will happen one day, but perhaps not in your lifetime.
I'll thin these out in about 10 days. Then wait at least two weeks before they're big enough to transplant into individual pots.
By the time they're ready to harvest, I'll be dribbling in a home for the bewildered.
Here's a definite sign of Spring. When japonica camellias start to flower, daffodils aren't far behind.
It still feels bloody cold, though. The cat is my seasonal barometer. Before leaving the house, he gingerly extends a paw to test the temperature of the patio flagstones. If they're very cold he jumps as if scorched... then refuses to go out.
He hasn't been out much yet.
Gorgeous day today. The sun was shining, my back felt pretty good and I got a load done at the plot.
The main achievement was to get eight bags of horse shit spread on the asparagus bed. This will pay tasty dividends when the spears are coming through.
I will of course regret planting the row of garlic. After last year's rust disaster I don't expect much.
But life without garlic is, like, unthinkable. Right?
