Terry Walton
Brrr. I opened my mouth too quickly in my last blog and have paid the price. Winter returned last week and, as I peered out of my windows, snow was falling fast. My assumption that the sun would raise the temperature quickly was proven false and daytime remained below zero. The nights were even colder on my hillside and minus seven degrees Centigrade was the norm last week. The sun did, however, warm the inside of the greenhouse by day but, as it set behind the mountain, the temperature fell like a stone. By early evening, both wicks of my lamp were working flat out and all my young seedlings were gathered as if around a camp fire to keep them warm. Those crops that had been deceived on the plot together with those long, green shoots flagged in the cold temperatures and looked decidedly unhappy. There is a sting in this winter yet!
My mum used to say that if the snow was hanging about, it was waiting for more. The hillsides remained covered all week providing a pure white backdrop to the houses at the base of the valley. True to her old words, on Saturday, falling from the sky, came more of these intricate snowflakes to join the companions that had been waiting almost a week for them to join them. Still, after the Arctic freeze, the rain quickly followed from the west and soon all traces of this cold stuff were erased and were no more. The milder climate has made its return.
Those frogs that were also fooled by the season soon had their passions cooled as the ice formed on my pond. They have retreated to the mud at the bottom to remain in hibernation until the water temperature rises again and the thick ice has melted.
The rock hard surface of the soil suited my needs last week, as it was a chance to spread the contents of my compost heap around the plot. This heap has been turning into 'black gold' for eighteen months and, when its black plastic cover was removed, this rich, crumbly material was ready to further enrich my soil. Plus, it is much easier to push a wheelbarrow over firm soil than trying to plough through mud. So some good has come of this mini freeze!
I was reading only last week that strawberry plants were one of the best sellers last year. I am not surprised at that statistic as there is no substitute for a dish of fresh strawberries picked in the warm sun and eaten the same day. You do not need a large garden or allotment to experience this delight and there are plenty of ways to grow some of these delicious fruits. There are numerous strawberry towers on the market to fit in many of these fruits and any large old bin will form the perfect home for a few plants. There are even varieties that are at home in hanging baskets. The advantage of growing them up in the air and not on the soil is that slugs will not take a passing nibble and the fruit will not be covered with gritty soil. Take care though, they are still the favourite of Mr and Mrs blackbird.
But, to spoil it for me, there is now available a white strawberry which apparently tastes of pineapple! To an old-fashioned gardener like me, fruit and vegetables have a traditional colour but more and more unusual colours are being introduced into the market place. To me, strawberries have a unique taste and sweetness and when I bite into one I want it to taste like a strawberry not an exotic pineapple! Also colour fools my palate and, if the colour is not to my liking, my brain confuses my taste buds.
I am on old 'fuddy duddy' gardener and like things the way they are supposed to be, but if this change in colours and looks will get more people to grow and eat home-produced food then I will welcome it.
So for now let’s hope that the equilibrium is restored and my plants can enjoy each day without a shiver up their stems.