27th July 2021
There are constant small victories and losses on the smallholding. Yesterday the first potatoes came up half-green in a salvage job, and the beans were rotten, but at least the radishes and lettuce were good. Today is all victory. We give some friends some eggs, radishes, and lettuce heads. It is joyful to share abundance. Why else should we grow but to give – to ourselves and others? Grace is designed to overflow.
We also begin to see the courgette harvest come in earnest,
with two mature Black Beauties, long and glossy black-green, like a dark
aubergine, and one Golden Zucchini – a small one, but fully mature, the first
off its plant. Picking them regularly naturally encourages growth elsewhere.
Helen reports seeing some of our scallop-shaped ones coming through, too.
7 eggs, 2 large Black Beauty courgettes, 1 small Golden
Zucchini, 0.35oz raspberries
28th July 2021
I don’t go down today.
7 eggs
I go down with a friend and the boys, and we bring back a basketful of courgettes and raspberries and peas! The first De Nizza – a green-grey bell-shaped squash or courgette – comes off the vine, and we take a bevy of Black Beauties, which ripen to a gloss black finish.
It is a blessing to share the land. Virtually no-one does
not enjoy coming down to the allotment – albeit they do not share the hard days
in mud – and it is plainly vivifying, to them and me. This renders it the more
distressing that we simply do not share land in a general sense. I don’t mean
public ownership – I mean social cooperation.
The drift from the land had its effects on employment and on
rhythms of life at the time, of course, but the greatest long-term impact (I am
convinced) is to our sense of rootedness, our connection with natural things,
our sense of the rhythms of the land itself. The farming community is closed
off, often both literally and metaphorically endogamous – what little public
agricultural land (allotments) we have are ever under threat from the
temptation of development money – our nature preserves are fragile and lopsided
– our greenbelt is often largely in private hands, and sterile to boot.
4 eggs, 2 large Black Beauty courgettes, 2 small Black
Beauty courgettes, 1 large De Nizza courgette, 30 raspberries (2.64oz), 0.5oz
Meteor peas (0.25oz shelled)
30th July 2021
Brief trip before bed, and I collect some potatoes!
5 eggs, 10 raspberries (0.88oz), 7lbs6oz Early potatoes
31st July 2021
I take my dad and the boys down on the way out to play softball. There’s something glorious in generational sharing of the land, even such a small patch. My father’s father, Grandpa Joe, had an allotment – I particularly remember his potatoes and beans, tomatoes from the greenhouse. That legacy has always stayed with me very strongly. It was a bias towards allotment keeping long before I got into permaculture. It’s an inheritance in itself, as sure as the woolly jumpers passed down from him that I still wear. (He died 14 years ago, so they’re doing pretty well to get to this stage!)
6 eggs
1st August 2021
The briefest of trips to collect eggs and sort out the chickens, after a long and busy day. The Golden Ranger is very broody, but not laying; she doesn’t seem eggbound, though, as she is mobile and happy during the day.
6 eggs
2nd August 2021
Helen reports that we have strawberries at the allotment bed! Given our losses in the yard, this is encouraging. She’s put out straw to help with moisture and rotting issues.
Quick trip to put the chickens to bed. It was probably wise
to let them stay out when it was around 20 Celsius overnight – but they need to
be encouraged to be wise. Like children, in that respect.
I need to find more time to plant out remaining spare
seedlings and weed the rhubarb and asparagus. The new rhubarb, particularly, is
doing very well; we’ll very likely not take any this summer, as it’s late in
its season, and we want the strength to be returned to the crown for next year.
6 eggs, 8 raspberries (0.7oz)
There are constant small victories and losses on the smallholding. Yesterday the first potatoes came up half-green in a salvage job, and the beans were rotten, but at least the radishes and lettuce were good. Today is all victory. We give some friends some eggs, radishes, and lettuce heads. It is joyful to share abundance. Why else should we grow but to give – to ourselves and others? Grace is designed to overflow.
I don’t go down today.
I go down with a friend and the boys, and we bring back a basketful of courgettes and raspberries and peas! The first De Nizza – a green-grey bell-shaped squash or courgette – comes off the vine, and we take a bevy of Black Beauties, which ripen to a gloss black finish.
Brief trip before bed, and I collect some potatoes!
I take my dad and the boys down on the way out to play softball. There’s something glorious in generational sharing of the land, even such a small patch. My father’s father, Grandpa Joe, had an allotment – I particularly remember his potatoes and beans, tomatoes from the greenhouse. That legacy has always stayed with me very strongly. It was a bias towards allotment keeping long before I got into permaculture. It’s an inheritance in itself, as sure as the woolly jumpers passed down from him that I still wear. (He died 14 years ago, so they’re doing pretty well to get to this stage!)
The briefest of trips to collect eggs and sort out the chickens, after a long and busy day. The Golden Ranger is very broody, but not laying; she doesn’t seem eggbound, though, as she is mobile and happy during the day.
Helen reports that we have strawberries at the allotment bed! Given our losses in the yard, this is encouraging. She’s put out straw to help with moisture and rotting issues.
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