Ranch:
Summer has tumbled into autumn, with a brief late-summer hot and sunny reprieve which has given way to North-west lashing rain and endless sogginess.
It’s been a mixed season, with a late deterioration. Two of the four courgette plants got some kind of white mould on the crowns and died.
All the brassicas were completely decimated.
The beetroot all bolted in spring but later plantings have done ok.
Soft fruit has been paltry, but there’s an increase in the apples. It’ll be interesting to see the difference next year now I’ve got bees.
Beans and peas however have done really well and I’ve had the first hazel crop from the field, as the whips planted five years ago start to mature. I picked them all before the squirrels discovered them. Hazel nuts represent a big step forward in nutritional self-sufficiency, so It’s quite a thrill. The four walnut trees are also getting established after a slow start.
I noticed a foul ammonia/rotting flesh smell coming from the potato store and when I looked a lot were mush. Fortunately these were just the small loose ones piled on the top – the bigger cleaner ones underneath are all separate.
Such is my general gardening naivete, that I had to research it to find out that it was potato blight – Phytophthora infestans. This is the fungus that wiped out a large proportion of Ireland’s potato harvest in 1845. It is attributed to the so-called Irish potato famine in which around a million Irish people starved and around another million emigrated. The term is a grotesquely patronising condescending racist one with no historical accuracy.
The fungus did indeed wipe out Ireland’s mono-culture potatoes which constituted around 20% of the island’s food production. The country however had a highly accomplished and diverse farming industry more than capable of self-sufficiency with or without spuds. At the time, it was a colony of the British Empire. The real reason for the famine was the export by the ‘Empire‘ of the majority of Ireland’s home grown produce.
I’m nowhere near as clever as the Irish and my potato store constitutes a large majority of my DIY food supply. I’ve foolishly made the mistake of planting the same variety (Desiree) for the last few years. The lesson is diversification, which is universal to permaculture and organic gardening. I’ll have to burn all the straw that the potatoes have been stored in, then plant next year’s crop in a completely different area + use blight-resistant varieties.
Usually, at this time of year I’m getting five or so delicious juicy figs every couple of days. This year, a new arrival is eating them all as soon as they approach ripeness. It’s not the wasps, although they are hyper-abundant this year – the characteristic marks of wasp-gorging are easily recognisable. It’s something that is scooping out the contents smoothly. Also something has been depositing damsons on the shed roof, leaving them a couple of days, then eating them. Is it really possible that an animal is intelligent enough to leave fruit to ripen in the sun before eating it? Possible culprits are: squirrels; rats; voles; magpies and crows. I’d have to stage a long vigil to find out.
I’m fascinated by the fact that most human cultures are dependent on grain to survive, given that it’s so labour intensive to produce. I’ve experimented a couple of times trying to grow it. This year I grew four roughly one metre patches – a spelt, an old-English wheat, a patch from ears that I found in Linda’s hay and a patch of rye. The rye did better than the rest, growing half as tall again with long ears packed with seeds. Unfortunately, I don’t know the variety – I got them from Brown envelope seeds in Ireland and they don’t know the variety either. I was going to have a go at milling the seed, but I’m thinking of creating a new bed, and planting a much bigger row.
Rock & Roll:
Rock & Roll is neat. I deliberately don’t do gigs in Spring and Summer, but we did a couple with Danbert Nobacon & Kiri – they live in North America and were on tour. The second gig was at Rosemount Working Men’s club in Bacup – I loved it. They have a nice little scene with the local old punky musos. They asked us to play on a Saturday night which I’m looking forward to – I’m itching to get playing again.
Our fourty-year-on punk project is coming on nicely – I’ve done a few more interviews and Casey came over and did some portraits. Ticker’s interview was the best. He’s not called Ticker Le Punk for nothing. He nailed how non-judgemental and accepting it all was. I’m realising more and more how massively influential the scene was – particularly how the Rock against Racism movement completely changed the status quo in Britain. Boff observed that all the old punks that he knows have livelihoods in benevolent areas – teaching, healthcare, the arts and so on.
Wheels:
I’ve restored a big old lawn mower that was left on one of my other allotments. It was good fun – everything is so accessible compared to working on a car.
Elias and I managed to get away for a couple of nights in the van to our favourite campsite. We sat at table 41. We grabbed the last two hot sunny September days. There is no finer vehicle on earth for small-scale glamping.
It started raining heavily on Sunday so we just chucked everything in the van and headed for home. The rain was so heavy that the roads were like rivers and I was really scared. When we arrived home safely, I decided that it’s time to sell the van. It’s served us well – years of festivals and gigs and camping trips, but I don’t get enough use out of it, and I have other plans – I’m weighed down with an overwhelming sense of clutter and I need to get rid of a lot of stuff.
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