March On

Marching.

Snowdrops a'plenty and bright purple and deep mustard coloured crocuses are littered around the Holly Cottage paths. A golden lesser celendine flower is starting to peep up from a country green base. This is the colour we have. Tiny specks that draw the eye in an otherwise green and grey land. Fifty shades of green - and grey ;) 

It's a challenging month. We've been so good - biting our tongues in January and accepting the lingering darkness. Making the most of it with warm turf fires and hearty stewpots. And we didn't shirk at the bracing cold and snow. And February too - we welcomed the sun on St. Bridgid's Day - Imbolc - and we said, "she's just around the corner now". Within a hair's breadth. And we kept the fires burning and we waited for the sentinels of spring - crocus and pluirini sneachta - to lift our spirits. And they did. And they still do too.

But the warm sunny day of the 1st of February must have meant that Cailleach was gathering her firewood for a long winter. And the dry cold that whipped our cheeks last week, and the howling winds of last night that almost wrestled the towering trees that line the estate wall down, stand testament to that. And sure, why not resort to ancient celtic mythology that has been distorted by millennia of mis-interpretation to explain the weather? Even a scientist might sometimes rest back on the couch of imagination and explain things away by the complete mythological. It makes for a better fireside tale than "the empirical data tells us that..."Nerd ;) Oh my life...

Warriors of the cold - respect. 

And so - the long awaited March has arrived. March is on. Accompanied by a dusting of snow just for good measure. And while daffodil buds peep up for a look, still we wait. Will they decide not to come this year? Will they stick their heads back in the cold earth and just say - "nah, let's sit this one out?" But no they won't. We know that. They March, on. Just like us. 

Spring will come. Any day now. It will descend upon us from an apparent nowhere and we will magically emerge from our heavy cloaks of winter and forget that it was ever here. No dwelling on the dark forces that were, and those that are still to come. And that my friends - that, is the real magic. 

Stay strong, stay ready. March, on. 

Spring beckons change

Ageless beauties

The warmth of the sun is comforting on this late February afternoon. It's been a relentless battle on the island of Ireland the last two months - human versus Atlantic storms. We try to keep our heads down as the winds roar - as they shake the utmost out of the delicate structures we build (the greenhouse survived but the neighbour's fence didn't). As water pours from the sky and the waves lift up onto seaside towns and villages, we run/swim/paddle as fast as we can but there are inevitable casualties. 

Of course for us flatlander midlanders there is no fear of waves but we contend with rivers bursting banks and the mighty Shannon lifting the land and all around it. Now, after decades of soothsaying scientists, people are finally taking heed that the global climate is deflecting from the accustomed pattern - the pattern that we have built our livelihoods and settlements and sowing and harvesting regimes about. Whether you choose to believe or not to believe that the current global climatic anomalies are a consequence of human activities, one thing is for sure is that just a rising tide lifts all boats and floods shacks and mansions indiscriminately, so too must we all adapt and strategise for a future that my not be so dependable and predictable. Instead of wondering will change come we will have to get off the fence and start working to adapt to changes that are likely to prove challenging to those of us who were hoping to perpetuate our current ambient living condition. 

spring patch

Here in the Holly Cottage we were spared the worst - no loss of electricity (and the precious bounty of tomatoes and strawberries in the freezer were hence saved), no loss of greenhouse, no flooding of the local rivers but plenty of beech and oak giants toppled in the Charleville woods and as already hinted at, the neighbour's fence collapsed. This means loss of privacy to us humans but Holly has gained a massive extension to her garden patrol area and she now must defend her previously isolated empire from all the bigger dogs from up the road. Poor Holly. 

Within our own little patch we have been gifted with a bounty of crocuses that somehow have emerged from the clearances of the 'old' front garden and leads me to wonder if those bulbs - that have been planted by previous owners since the house was built in the late 1930s - could be as old as the house themselves? Or near enough anyway? What is the lifespan of a crocus bulb? A lifetime or many lifetimes? And then of course what constitutes a normal lifetime (who or what is normal)? And then there are the snowdrops - swathes of pure white that defy February grey. One thing I've learned about snowdrops - when planting choose to split established clumps of bulbs as opposed to planting singular new bulbs. The new bulbs we planted to the front of the house are sadly less spectacular than those I saved when we cleared the front and subsequently moved to fruit alley down the back. I'm sure the 'new' bulbs will catch up but that might take a lifetime in itself...which bring us back to what constitutes a lifetime!

No rain, no rainbow ;)

On a practical front there has been (finally) some activity back in the vegetable patch. The areas sown with green manure (rye and vetch) last August have been dug over to give the plants time to break down and clear the way for the new bounty. Next job is to spread some manure and compost over to replenish the nutrients devoured by the last years' hungry crops. We are currently hot on the heels of the seed potatoes and the onion setts, but that's about it. This year Orla and Sarpo mira are the main focus - forget Setanta if you have any sort of slug issues - they will devour and destroy the soft flesh. There has been 'some talk' of extending the herb and rhubarb patch - given the voracity of the rhubarb growth last year - and maybe even a new patio to be installed for some late summer lounging-about. That is if the sun manages to break through the clouds again this year for more than a sunny afternoon. Who can say anymore? 

All we can do is take it as it comes and adapt. There is stability in chaos as science tells us - the degree of stability for each depending on our own ability to maintain balance in a changing world in a changing universe...

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Flower power

Purple haze

For most, if not all of my youth I wondered what the hell my mother was doing in the garden. My father was generally there with her when the work was done down the fields or in the yard, so there was a pair of them in it. I just didn't get the fact that they loved being out there until dark would creep in past ten and eleven at night during the summer or why would you bother chitting seed potatoes under our beds in the depths of a February winter. Thing is - I get it now. And now I wonder is it that I've gotten old or is it that I just get it? Is it like when you suddenly realise that money doesn't grow in your parents' pockets? When I visit my parents now I realise how much work went into having all those crocuses and snowdrops in January, daffodils a'plenty in March, torrents of tulips in April and then all those amazing scents and colours of summer months - roses, sweet william, sweet pea, dahlias and in more recent years glorious sunflowers. All against a backdrop of beautiful beech, graceful pines and an orchard of apple and plenty of growing room for all sorts of berries. 

Momma tulip with baby tulips

I realise now how much work it takes because we started on our own journey here in the Holly Cottage nearly three years ago. The first summer went quickly and we did nothing much, cut a few overgrown trees and built a wall. The second we focused on growing food for ourselves - one must have their priorities right ;) And then last year we finally got around to dealing with the disastrous front of the house which we had completely neglected and turned our back on (literally we did, as the back is facing south and out of sight...). Over the course of a wet July and August in 2012 we cleared out the chaos and replaced it with clean lines and in our wisdom (somehow we knew we had to) we planted about 200 bulbs on a hot August afternoon and duly forgot about them until the first sacred snowdrop lifted its head in a wet January. Since then we've been constantly entertained by trying to guess what would come next, since we really can't remember. And so we had irises, crocuses, daffodils, tulips, snowflake (bigger and later version of the snowdrop) as well as things we didn't even plant that somehow found their way. The wilder things that popped up are celendine, wild strawberry, bluebell, wild garlic and lords and ladies. At the moment down on fruit alley we have the cherry, apple and pear blossoms and not to forget the pale purple of the cheery chives. Of course then we had our surprise roses last year and I've managed to salvage them and find a better spot - fingers crossed they'll come back to us. 

Simple pleasure

And so, inspired by the delight of all those bulbs I was early down to the local Lidl store Saturday  bank holiday morning (German supermarket chain in Ireland) and picked up a load of specials. I thought I'd be the only one but there was a river of plant shoppers streaming out the door after buying up nearly everything in the few minutes the store had been opened. I came home with a boot load of 'infant' flowers. All of which are now - after three hours that seemed to disappear in 5 minutes of planting and watering - in the ground (note - there is loads of potential for practicing your yoga while gardening - think squats, forward bends and mountain pose). There is lavender, clematis (climber for the big wall at the back), blue lilac, marigolds, geraniums and my mother's all time favourite - pansies. Again, I only know anything about these flowers because of her, and I probably wouldn't know anything about growing and caring for them but for her either. I guess I owe a lot of gratitude to her - not least for bringing me into being which goes without saying - but for all the stuff as a child and sulky teenager I thought I'd never need to know, that now brings us the greatest of simple pleasures everyday in our Holly Cottage garden. Thanks Ma! I did return some of the favour though and when I started my own botanical trekking I was able to show her sundews and other insect eating plants on the bogs of Ireland, the colourful bog mosses and the glorious orchids that are miniature paintings against the wild bog backdrop. 

My advice - only if you're interested - is start small. Start with a few small things in a corner of the garden and be sure they are where you can see and admire them everyday. Then, maybe plant a few more of what you decide you like best. After that, experiment and try planting a few things like  potted herbs that you can pick up with your weekly shop. It can be as simple as you have the time and the money for, and don't forget you can always adopt and adapt a few cuttings from more established gardens. You learn something new with every seed you sow or plant you dig - more often learning something about yourself that you might never have otherwise known. 

And so, here's to flower power! If you do a Google search for flower power - you'll just get pictures of hippies and 60s psychedelia. It is so much more than that, trust me. So enjoy the cherry blossoms on the streets and the gorse on the hills, and I will keep you posted as to how our new arrivals fare and the flower power that they bring. May the force be with you ;)

A quick postscript on a Monday afternoon - I managed to scavenge enough rhubarb from the garden to make our first rhubarb tart of the year. Three words - DE-LISH-IOUS. And the spuds are up - was there ever any doubt? 

Back to the Holly Cottage Garden

The last two weeks have been busy, and in that time it seems that everything has changed. While I was busy driving around this small nation - from Dublin to Galway and down and up and across the fair Midlands - the birds, plants, flowers, trees, shrubs and even humans were subtly being transformed by the onset of spring. 

Defiant winter beauty

Let me fill you in. All of the snowdrops are up now - it started with one or two at the front of the house in early January, but now they are in great abundance and in rich clumps down through the length of fruit alley in the Holly Cottage garden. And then there are the other arrivals - irises and crocuses, some delicate, some beautifully strong and defiant (even when the scary neighbour dog comes in and kicks the crap out of them with his hind legs...grrrrr). The climbing roses are showing signs of new growth and blackcurrant and raspberry are showing those first yellow green leaves of 2013. Let me share with ye however the most significant and wonderful of all changes - the day is gloriously brighter and last week it truly, madly, deeply felt like spring. Happy days!!!! In fact, if the weather people are to be trusted (I know, it's ok to be guided by their past failures but let's be positive) it's not going to rain for at least five days!!! Bring on the sun screen!

It wasn't all quiet in the Holly Cottage garden this year and somehow we managed to get a few things done in between the showers. The whole garden was dug over, save for the broccoli and leek rows. The strawberry beds were gutted and old and new plants re-spaced. This was one of the great successes of 2012. From humble beginnings of 6 humble plants in 2011, we now have at least 160 ready for 2013, and if the bumper crop of 2012's 80 or so plants is anything to go by, we will be giving Wexford Strawberries a run for their money! We still have huge bags frozen from last year - great in smoothies. 

Following from the strawberry plants coup of the former herb, rhubarb and strawberry bed (they are certainly a dominating plant if you let the runners off - just cut them back if you  have enough plants), we had to extend again to find a new home home for the super rhubarb and the precious thyme, rosemary, lavender, oregano and mint members of the garden family. This time we passed on back breaking digging and used heavy duty fabric to cover a former grassy patch and just planted in the herbs at intervals. This will hopefully save on a bout of weeding in the height of the summer sun. Another small job back in December was planting the garlic - hopefully a better crop than last year's, and this time we got garlic bulbs for planting as opposed to garlic from who knows where that we sprouted from the shelves of the local supermarket. You live and learn, everyday. 

This weekend was for tidying up the last few standing after the winter - last of the parsnips are buried in a soup pot, straggly scallions that were a harbour for insatiable slugs are in the compost bin and the few tiny leeks that made it through are waiting patiently for tonight's risotto. There's still enough onions hanging in the shed to last until Easter and beyond and the spring broccoli will hopefully make up its mind soon to do it's thing...any second now.....

Last year was a tough year for gardeners and farmers, but we had a few highlights. The strawberries were amazing, some were the size of small lemons and they didn't suffer from lack of taste. The onions, carrots and parsnips faired well although there were mixed results from the beetroot. Those cucumbers were sensational and the tomatoes just OK, while we still have bright red chillies in the freezer to heart us from the inside on cold nights. These chillies and some mini, late scotch bonnets have become the base for some very tasty pepper sauce creations by the man of the house - bringing back memories of hot pepper sauce with everything in Barbados ;) The celery was a learning curve, don't think we'll go there again and the spuds were a disaster. Blight hit them early and there was no going back after that. This year we've order three blight resistant types - Orla (first earlies),  Sarpo mira and Sarpo axons. We'll see. Ordered from www.gardencentre.ie 

The future ;)

Now is the time for looking back and seeing what worked, and looking forward to see what we can handle in 2013. Everything though is reliant on the weather, and someday (when we grow up) we'll hopefully have a polytunnel to help extend our growing season and keep us out of the rain. We'll throw in a few new things here and there of course - always exciting to try a new crop. I'll keep ye posted. In the meantime, in my absence last week the other gardener was busy too and seed trays have been started with tomatoes, marjoram, basil, sweet peppers and some early rocket for the greenhouse. Other things started a while ago is a batch of lime pickle - takes about four weeks plus. This one was inspired by New Year's eve's trip to the local indian restaurant - again, I'll keep ye posted. 

In the meantime, there's some seeds to be planted today and hopefully some sun and cosmic rays to warm myself and Holly as we get finally, and thankfully get back out in action to the tiny wondrous world that is the Holly Cottage garden. 

Just one other thing - while walking out on a bog last week I was distracted by overwhelming grunting and well, sounds that would make you wonder! It was an orgy of frogs - amazing really. Tens of frogs all getting down together. Funny thing, it was Valentine's Day......what a sight  and sound spectacle ;)

There's a party going on just under that tree....