Search - Articles

I'm really loving this freezing weather. My hands and feet aren't very happy, though, despite my recent investment in 'serious' socks. What's making me so happy is the thought of all those garden pests perishing during the frosty nights.I'm hoping

The long chilly winter evenings are ideal for looking back on the year and reflecting on its triumphs and disasters. Some triumphs are of my own making - my carrots were fantastic thanks to my sowing the seeds at the right time, unlike last year

on Wednesday. I wasn’t alone as a few children were making the most of the weather and throwing snowballs over onto the next door playing field. There were even one or two people at their allotments, taking pictures and brushing snow off their vulnerable plants

and left it alone. Now the university want to make a geophysical survey of the site to establish the orientation and existence of any walls and buildings. This involves gridding the allotment into squares and then walking over it with a resistance monitor

will take place this week. I'll be planting main crop potato varieties and onion sets. The lighter evenings make such a difference — I'll be able to pop down after work.My main crop bed is already prepared. I dug it over and raked in blood, fish and bone. I

prolific weeds in my beds. It's actually quite a charming plant, with little blue flowers and a creeping habit. But it gets everywhere. It has a nasty habit of hiding under plants, where it sets its roots down close to the stem. This makes it difficult

benefit from extra water when in flower. This time is known as the 'critical watering period'.My colleague Anna also has an allotment and is very particular about critical watering periods. She's been talking about her peas all week, how the swelling pods

It's so hot I'm having to water my vegetable crops up to twice a day at the moment. Everyone on the allotment is desperately trying to keep the plants productive and, more to the point, alive.We're lucky to have taps dotted around the site, which

One of the greatest pleasures of allotment life is getting to know my neighbours. Ron, Beryl, Vic and Tony are a lovely bunch, although we disagree on quite a few things. Vic doesn't like my raised beds, which he regards as a waste of space and a

will admit to sneaking the odd strawberry when I'm picking.Anna, my assistant at work and fellow allotment holder, is a Grazer. As soon as a tomato turns even vaguely red she starts giving it a sly squeeze to see if it's ripe. She munched her way through her