A quick pick-me-up

For me, January is always the most depressing month of the year but, statistically, February is the month when most suicides occur. 

The grounds of Redworth Hall

To overcome that February feeling I recommend a walk in a garden – almost any garden would do – but if you’ve time take a quick drive to Redworth Hall near Shildon to see the snowdrops and aconites and you’ll find your winter blues disappear. I guarantee it.

 

Snowdrops and aconites

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

St. Paul rather than St. Patrick

 It's been such a dull and wet day today, 25th January - St. Paul's Day as well as St. Patrick's -  that I thought we all needed cheering up  (In the 17th century a dull St. Paul's Day was considered an omen of war and disaster).

viburnum

A walk in Pablo's garden during a lull in the rain soon convinced me that all is not lost. I was amazed and heartened by the growing promise in the borders and the variety and kaleidoscope of colour to be seen.

skimmia

The winter so far has been kind to our two furry friends - Portia and Estella - and  we're quite curious as to how they'll react to the  snow when it does arrive. They are not fazed by rain at all. Pablo would twitch his whiskers at the open door and then turn back into the warmth. These two seem to relish going outside regardless. Only strong winds seem to bother them and then they hover at the window, waiting to be let in.

The hellebores are beginning to come into bud and I really need to cut back last year's leaves to allow the flowers to be seen in all their glory. They are such worthwhile plants and I intend to extend my collection this coming year. 

dying ferns give winter colour

 
I didn't tidy the borders at the end of  last year - deliberately leaving the dying foliage as shelter for wildlife. There is still beauty to be seen in these perennials which have retained some of their autumn colour even in the depths of winter.

I have been trying over the years to include plants that give not only winter colour but that are scented. Christmas box, winter flowering honeysuckle and witch hazel respond well to winter sunshine and I've finally managed to track down a plant of wintersweet which produces yellow flowers along its stem but is best known for its delicious perfume. Obviously my shrub is only tiny so I'll have to wait some while before I can relish its delights. Can't wait.

Future promise

 

 

A possible dearth of kingfishers

14^th – 28^th December were known as the Halcyon Days, a time when the gods ensured calm weather so that the kingfisher - whose old name was halcyon - could hatch her young in peace.

Christ mas tree at twilight

 With the wild and wet weather lately there's bound to be a shortage of kingfishers in 2014, sadly.

So, little opportunity to garden as the weather hasn't allowed and preparations for Christmas have had to take precedent. 

Christmas is always a good excuse to have lots of flowers in the house. The cats have enjoyed investigating the arrangements, knocking the cards down from every possible surface - accidentally of course - and have even helped open presents, especially Estella who has a penchant for paper.

Christmas swag

One can't enjoy gardening and not be an optimist. Winter jasmine and verbena are in full flower and primroses and hellebores are showing the promise of colour to come. Lots of spring bulbs are already making their presence felt and I've had great fun thinking about which plants to buy next year to fill a space previously occupied by a small topiaried holly tree which has gone to the great compost heap in the sky.

Here's to good gardening in 2014
 

A thought to carry into  2014

 

Quince jelly

For the very first time ever, my six year old quince tree not only flowered but produced fruit this summer. Looking very much like contorted furry pears, I duly picked the golden fruit as directed - in early autumn - with a mix of anticipation and delight.

Quince tree with fruit

The slightly furry fruit smells delicious and on Gardeners' Question Time some while ago garden expert Pippa Greenwood confirmed that she often had a bowl of quinces in her study, simply to scent the room. None of the team were enthusiastic about cooking with quinces alone and recommended adding them to apple recipes to enhance the flavour.

Some years ago I was given a Christmas present of a set quince jelly, known as membrillo which was usually eaten as an accompaniment to cheese. So, last weekend, armed with a substantial trug full of quinces, I determined to have a go at making quince jelly for myself.

Trug of golden quinces

What a palaver!

The fruit had to be peeled - not an easy operation given the shape of the quinces - then quartered, another difficult operation  as the fruit is so hard that my fingers were quite sore after all were finally prepared. They were then boiled for more than an hour to soften the flesh and left to soak in the cooking liquid overnight.

Liquid and chunky flesh were then poured into a jelly bag and left for hours to drain. I had to resist the temptation to help the process along by squeezing the pulp as this would have resulted in a cloudy jelly.

Estella's helping paws

Then, for every 17 fluid ounces of liquid, 12 ounces of sugar had to be added to the pan together with the juice of one lemon, the sugar dissolved and then the syrup boiled for 10 minutes until setting point had been reached.

For all that time and effort I ended up with 6 quite tiny jars of a glorious orange-coloured, clear liquid.
Admiring my handiwork the next morning I tilted a jar, only for the liquid inside to list sharply - the syrup hadn't set firm after all. Disaster!

Nothing daunted, I had to empty the syrup into a clean pan and boil all briskly again, adding the juice of another lemon for good measure. This time all went well. I did have a wonderful, membrillo-like solution which smelled delicious with a fragrant honey flavour, tempered with undertones of summer.

Summer captured in a jar

Sadly, my six jars had dwindled to four, with a small amount left over in a fifth jar. That one will have to be mine. The big decision now is how to decide which of my friends will be fortunate enough to be given a taste of summer in the depths of winter. Will it be you?

Still no time 'to stand and stare'

Despite everything slowing down growth-wise, this is such a busy time in the garden. I no longer ruthlessly cut back perennials, preferring to leave most plants to die back naturally, ensuring safe refuge for many over-wintering insects and leaving most seed heads for the birds, but even so there has been lots of shrubs needing to be pruned and mountains of leaves to be raked and swept. 

 

 

Epimediums before the frost

The first frost last weekend took its toll, fortunately I’d already moved tender geraniums and dahlias into the cold greenhouse and tucked them in for the winter. I’ve spent most of my spare time this week planting spring bulbs in the borders – all now half price at B & Q – especially tulips which mustn’t be planted before November or they may suffer from wilt.

The Christmas hyacinths are already under cover in pots in the garage and I still need to plant small terracotta pots with iris reticulata. I saw some for sale earlier in the year. They looked so pretty and were so expensive that I made a mental note to pot some up myself.

 

Late-flowering clematis with honeysuckle

I finally made the decision to have a small holly tree removed and the space this has opened up is extraordinary. I’ve had a semi-circle of paving placed under the old apple tree and, following two useful outings to Egglestone Hall Nursery, quite a few different perennials are now in place in the left border. Daffodils, narcissi, tulips and alliums have been planted and there is still room for more plant-buying expeditions in the spring - can't wait!                                                                                    

Harvest Festival

I seem to have mixed up the seasons and am just now waking up after hibernating, blog-wise, over the glorious summer months, many of which I’ve spent visiting other gardens and horticultural shows.

      

Dalmain House

I need to gird up my loins, however, as I've been asked to open Pablo's garden under the National Gardens Scheme on Sunday 6th July next year. Crikey! Too soon to cross fingers for fine weather.

The glory of golden rod - solidago

 Lots of tidying and cutting back to be getting on with and with only another three garden bins due I fear I’ll be paying lots of visits to the local tip. I do so regret that the garden recycling scheme ends in November. It’s far too soon for Pablo’s garden as I’m often still working in it well into January and would prefer to have the option of monthly collections during the winter. If we have to pay Durham County Council £20 for the privilege of having the bins emptied perhaps they’ll consider extending the service. Some chance!

Astrantia 'going over'

The pear trees have served the crows and starlings well. Both trees are now too large for us to harvest the fruit but we do gather windfalls which fall on to the lawn. Although the small fruit don’t look especially appetising they taste wonderful. Sadly, they don’t keep very long.

I used to have manic days making jam and chutney and wine but now I try to give most of the pears away. (Many friends now pretend to be out when I call with my annual harvest festival. They’re all too exhausted from their own frantic jam making and can’t face yet more fruit). I have made a really nice pear and ginger cake, however. Just replace pears in any apple cake recipe, add a dash of ginger and some stem ginger if you have it and voila!

Greenhouse tomatoes

Rudbekia

We have four old apple trees, varieties unknown, and again, despite some of the fruit looking unappetising (we don’t look after the trees as we should), they also taste delicious. I’m not sure which if any are designated as eating apples but I cook with them all so it doesn’t matter. I do enjoy picking them.

Apple heaven

Herewith my favourite apple cake recipe which just happens to be:-

Mary Berry’s Very Best Apple Dessert Cake

8 oz self raising flour

1 level teaspoon baking powder

8 oz castor sugar

2 eggs

half teaspoon almond extract

5 oz butter – melted

12oz cooking apples, peeled and cored (windfalls are fine)

1 oz flaked almonds

Preheat the oven to 160C/Fan 140C/Gas mark 3

Lightly grease an 8inch loose-bottomed cake tin

Measure flour, baking powder, sugar, eggs, almond extract and melted butter in a bowl. Mix well until blended, then beat for one minute.

Spread half the mixture into prepared tin.

Thickly slice apples and lay on top of the mixture in the tin, piling mostly towards the centre.

Roughly spoon the remaining mixture over the apples.

*Make sure mixture covers the centre well as it will spread out in the oven.

Sprinkle with flaked almonds.

Bake for 1hour and fifteen minutes, approximately until the cake is golden and coming away from the sides of the tin.

Dust the top with icing sugar before serving.

Delicious served with ice cream or crème fraiche as a dessert, or eaten warm with morning coffee.

Enjoy

Digging

 

Between my finger and my thumb

The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound

When the spade sinks into gravely ground:

My father, digging, I look down

Till his straining rump among

The flowerbeds

Bends low, comes up twenty years away

Stooping in rhythm through potato drills

Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft

Against the inside knee was levered firmly.

He rooted out tall tops, buried the

Bright edge deep.

To scatter new potatoes that we picked,

Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade,

Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day

Than any other man on Toner’s bog,

Once I carried him milk in a bottle

Corked sloppily with paper.

He straightened up

To drink it, then fell to right away

Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods

Over his shoulder, going down and down

For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the

Squelch and slap

Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge

Through living roots awaken in my head.

But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb

The squat pen rests.

I’ll dig with it.

               Seamus Heaney

                                        from Death of a Naturalist collection 1966

Perfect peace