Perishing parsnips

There is something particularly satisfying about growing parsnips. For one thing it is a bit of a challenge on the West Coast where the parsnip's requirements for a long growing season and slow germination means there is a protracted window of opportunity for the slug hoards to graze down the parsnip seedlings as they slowly germinate. A not uncommon change in late spring weather to a week or two of cold and wet can also cause the seeds to rot.

So not easy but if you give up on the idea of long tapering roots then a good stumpy crop can be achieved by starting them off in root trainers or loo roll tubes. You might not be able to enter the parsnip class at your local veg. show but you will be able to put parsnips on the table at Christmas.

At least that the goal. The last two years were fine on the growing front but harvesting at Christmas was the problem. A succession of -10c night time temperatures turned the ground solid and necessitated maximum effort with a a five foot pinch bar to prize out the prized roots. This year all was looking good and we started on our crop before the required cold weather that allegedly brings out their flavour. Apart from one cold week 2011 is ending wet and very windy so harvesting was easy. But just look at the picture.

    

One of our Christmas parsnips

In the few weeks before Christmas the last of my crop was all but destroyed, eaten by, I would guess, mice or voles or maybe the combined efforts of mice and voles. But these were not any old small mammals these were quite discerning choosing, as you can see, to eat the inside flesh and leave the skin. Fortunately they spared us just enough for Christmas and so far have not been nibbling the celeriac.

In case you are interested, the little shrub with the colourful foliage is a native of New Zealand  and goes by the name of Pseudowintera colorata. It is a little gem and should slowly grow into a decent size shrub.  Back in its native New Zealand it likes cool wet and windy places and is happy under snow. Also known as horopito and pepper tree, its leaves and bark are claimed to have medicinal properties. The specimen we have was kindly brought all the way from New Zealand by our son who lives there and is a selected variant called 'Red Leopard'. Thank you Tom.   

Knowing your Onions

We love onions, onion soup, caramelised onion quiche, onions are the start of so many dishes, soups and chutneys and so it follows that I try and grow lots of onions. Generally I grow them form sets planting 50 or so in the poly tunnel in March/April to get an early crop and the rest outside though most years I sow a few Bedfordshire Champions partly because it seems growing from seed is somehow more satisfying and partly because of the name - who can resist the thought of growing some Bedfordshire Champions?

Last year was a bit of a challenge. A bright start in April was followed by a wet and cold May and a poor June. Despite the challenge I was really pleased with the crop and this was largely down to a technique I have developed to cope with the vagaries of West Coast weather.

Stumbled across in desperation might have been a more honest description since a long cold winter and cold wet weather left ground temperature too cold to plant out onion sets in May and some of the sets were starting to sprout. The early sown sets  in a bed in the poly tunnel were doing very well so I decided to start all the rest off in the polly tunnel big in polystyrene fish boxes. The size used for salmon will take getting on for a hundred sets when squeezed in.

They thrived in these boxes and come June I was planting out very well rooted young onions about 200mm (8 inches) tall.  I had hardened them off for a few days, bringing the boxes inside at night, and, once planted, they barely paused for breath before steadily growing.

This year was the same, I had some sets outside in the ground in late April but then the weather conspired against me so I stopped panicking and planted the rest in boxes. When eventually planted out they did just as well as those planted outside 3-4 weeks earlier.

The other problem with onions is that we do not always get glorious long hot sunny days in August and September. In theory such weather ripens the crop and when the bulbs are eased slightly out of the ground it dries them out for safe keeping. More often I harvest the crop some time in September when we have had two consecutive dry days and then dry them by hanging in small bunches in the greenhouse or poly tunnel, don't make the bunches too big just 4-6 bulbs or they will not dry out properly.

This year was particularly grim, I did not even wait for two consecutive days and had to lay out the wet bulbs individually so that they could thoroughly dry out and then keep into the winter.  Now its winter and we are enjoying our own onions in all those different ways.

Wheel Meet Again

I am not quite sure why one feels compelled to make appalling puns in the title for posts but if there is anyone out there reading these well, firstly its your time but shouldn't you be doing something more vital and secondly, I will stop the puns if asked.

So how do wheels and meeting come together? The answer is travel.While happy to admit that I got as emotional as the next man at the ending of Love Actually and therefore not advocating a rationing system for travel (though, if there was one, there would be many more rail miles per year than air miles and those who do not wish to use their quota could sell it to those needing more and the market could be organised by former hedge fund managers once someone does the sensible thing and bans hedge funds) though like 'reality TV', there is  far too much of it going on.

This year we have, by my own standards, travelled too much.  While much of it was by train I must confess to a holiday in Italy made possible by Ryan Air. I feel deeply ashamed as if I have taken up smoking or stealing Zimmer frames for the aluminium and if I could think of a suitable pun I would vent my feelings on the Ryan Air experience in a post. Anyhow based more on the rail travel experience I have come up with an idea that would make travelling safer and more pleasant.

The simple solution is to ban all wheeled bags and suitcases. I was appalled, when using the tube to get from Euston to Liverpool Street, at the shear size of some of the 'bags' that people tow behind them and with which they do there very best to block escalators.  Some were more like cabin trunks and the only good thing was watching their owners trying to negotiate the odd flight of stairs. I am sure it will only be a matter of time before the first motorised wheeled suitcase hits the market quickly followed no doubt by the ride on suitcase. Well what a strange world I decided to google 'ride on suitcase' and there are loads for kids and then I tried 'motorised suit case' and, guess what, here is the link so see for yourself, www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2016566/Scooter-suitcase-Forget-taxis-RIDE-luggage-airport.html.

So ban the wheeled case I say. Make people carry their luggage like in the good old days and if they can't well thats one less traveller so thats good too.  The other excellent consequence is that one will no longer see limp wristed people wheeling luggage around with that bizarre air of self importance while, from our recent Italian experience, I was left concluding that Italians not only have scarf wearing and sweater draping as part of their school syllabus but also the dos and don'ts of luggage wheeling. And now, thanks to google, I have seen the future so it is even more important to ban the wheeled suitcase before the long walk in an airport to a distant gate is transformed into a cross between  speedway and a demolition derby.







 

Just a minute

I have, for some time, thought it a good idea to make life a little more challenging for those who are incarcerated at 'Her Majesty's pleasure'. You might think that, as someone who is concerned about the distinct possibility of global warming and all its dire consequences for mankind, I would be in favour of treadmills linked to a generator. The inmates could even be rewarded for their efforts with a share of  FITs though I am not sure if there is a an agreed tariff for electricity generated by manpower.

As tempting as this idea is, I fear the return, in terms of power on all the investment, would be so very poor that the proposition is not viable. My preferred option combines both punishment with a long term reward and the added benefit of education. The proposal is to restrict in cell entertainment to Radio 4.

Why should the incarcerated be offered multi channel TVs or indeed TVs at all. I accept that for most the thought of listening to Radio 4 would be regarded as a punishment but then surely that is what imprisonment  is all about. The thing is that boredom would I suspect drive them to listening to Radio 4 a little more each week or month and with that their minds would be expanded, they would become aware of more about what is going on in the UK, Europe and the world. And this can only be a good thing.

This proposal also allows for the possibility of cunning punishments. Antisocial behaviour can be discouraged by withdrawing Radio 4 privileges while more serious offences would attract the ultimate sanction of making their only entertainment re runs of that well known panel game 'Just a minute' I suspect the very mention of 'And here is your host Nicolas Parsons' would be enough to crack the toughest old lag.

A little harsh, do I hear you say. I admit its hard and some would probably need to be put on suicide watch but isn't prison meant to be tough?

It would be great to imagine that such a policy would put an end to the typical cycle  of prisoners leaving jail with their law breaking skills much improved though not enough to avoid a speedy return to HMPS.  My slight worry is that, when discharged with a broad knowledge of all that is going on, appreciating that Banks and bankers are totally unscrupulous, Politicians only concerned with the section of society got them into power, the mass media quite happy to ruin peoples lives if it increases their profits and that the whole western economy is teetering on the brink - I stop there with the list before we all need to go on a suicide watch, ex prisoners will not feel like trying to join society but do what the hedge fund managers/bankers do (screw the rest of us) and hope that like them they don't get sent to prison.      

Riots Reach Strontian

Panic not, I didn't mean to give the impression the local youths have abandoned their X boxes and Nintendos and taken to the streets or rather street.  I refer to the vegetable garden where at last warmer weather and plenty of moisture has seen a riot of vegetative growth.

leeks growing at last

Onions growing around main crop carrots in an attempt to deter carrot fly

In the greenhouse and polytunnel tomatoes are ripening and an experiment at growing standard tomatoes as cordons on the bench as an alternative to growing a a dwarf bush type such as Tumbling Tom has been decidedly encouraging.

Sweet Million grown up a string

Sweet million grown as a cordon in a pot on the greenhouse bench

The only problem with the cordon experiment was the danger of snapping off the growing tip when attempting to train it around the 45 degree string. This is because the tip is desperate to grow vertically and has to be bent a lot to twist it around the string. After loosing two tops, I found it safer to tie the top down gently over a few hours.

Meanwhile in the poly tunnel the celeriac have grown more like trifids and I get slightly anxious, when walking past that they might shoot out a tentacle.

The Celeriac

The slightly embarrassing truth behind behind these plants is that they started life in some distant plant factory and purchased by me as plugs. Celeriac require a long growing season and, with early sowings unsuccessful I was delighted to spot some in the village shop.   If the first frost comes early and denies us runner beans, they are currently 10mm. long at least we will have lots of parsnip and celeriac soup to look forward to.

New Life and a Glimpse at your own mortality.

While one of the downsides of keeping livestock is dealing with all the shit, one of the joys of living close to the natural world is watching the way it reinvigorates itself especially in Spring. The year the early fine weather prompted a dramatic demonstration of this though sadly it all happened in a rush, barely had the daffodils got going, before the  hot weather speeded up the succession of different flowers. Rhoddies came and went, the blackthorn was all over in a week and a big gale did for all the apple blossom.



And new life was born too with Daisy calving as the blackthorns peaked.   On the croft we get a bit blase about life death. Chickens are killed for the pot, larger stock go, as we like to put it, on their day trip to Mull - returning as packed butchered joints while the odd bird falls victim to old age or something nasty in the night.

Daffodil, newly born

Up on her own four feet

  

Daisy and Daffodil in the blackthorn

But amid all this dramatic display of natures bounty I was confronted with my own mortality. Once every day or two for a week or two while climbing our hill or chasing either livestock or children, I experienced quite severe 'indigestion'. A brief sit down sometimes accompanied by a cup of peppermint tea caused my indigestion to quickly pass and so I carried on. Though as easily self deluded as the next man, I am not completely stupid (and, until recently the family watching of Casualty was compulsory)  so, after a particularly 'indigestion' packed day, off we went to A&E at our local hospital. Its amazing how galvanising the three words 'crushing chest pain' are in an A&E department and a week later  here I am back home with my left carotid artery no longer blocked courtesy of modern skills and technology and a cunningly placed stent.  


In my absence the  growth of salads, tomatoes etc in the poly tunnel has been disappointing, just not enough sunshine, but weeds are flourishing and noisy nestlings and fledglings are demanding food from harried parents everywhere. Reassuringly, life goes on.   

Weeding and Wedding and busy busy bees

As the picture, taken in the poly tunnel, shows weeding (plus sowing and planting) activity is at last happening, we are now picking rocket and ruby mustard and the garlic is going well.

Outside the the brave leeks that survived the winter are still being enjoyed, the warm weather has brought a flush of very tasty shoots on the red russian kale and Daisy (the house Jersey - due to calve in two weeks) is sharing the parsnips with us - she gets the  newly sprouting tops we eat the roots.

You could say that we have been as busy as bees lately but that would not be entirely true since thanks to wonderful Kate we now have two hives of bees on the croft and it soon became apparent that nothing is as busy as bees except other bees and perhaps ants.  

Also, unlike bees, we have just had a wee break to recharge batteries, knit socks, read a bit and best of all enjoy some good food with friends on our favourite Island. Its identity cannot be revealed but one could say that in some ways its not the best place for recharging batteries but that may change and below is a picture clue.  

Once back home there was some frantic weeding and mulching around Honeysuckle together with smartening up pots and containers to give a colourful background for Helen and James' wedding.

On a beautiful day amid shining sun and singing birds  Kate cast off her bee keeper's veil in favour of ministerial robes and declared Helen and James husband and wife

Not Weeding but Wedding

You may have noticed that the insights into life and growing stuff on a croft have been few on the ground. I am afraid that trend continues with this post. After all Ed and Gemma's marriage cannot pass unrecorded
As they say, a great time was had by all  although Sukie's dress nearly eclipsed that of the bride and Ed's injury left him looking a bit stunned at times but then perhaps that is not uncommon for a groom on his wedding day. The church service was great; the setting outside for pictures, windswept with a snow covered Ben Nevis in the background, magnificent, Arisaig house was a terrific venue and, dare I say most surprising of all was the Best man's speech, fantastic - well done Thomas. And finally, well done Ed and good luck Gem.

The Killing

Have you discovered 'The Killing'? I stumbled across it by chance late one Tuesday and got to watch the repeat of the first two episodes. I should have gone to bed after the first but, be warned, its compelling stuff.

Its about the 20 day investigation of the brutal murder of a school girl and each one hour episode covers one day. Quite why the BBC do the two episodes back to back I can't understand, logically they should have been brave and shown episodes on consecutive nights - it is on BBC4 after all.

Why is it so good? In some ways being subtitled makes you concentrate in a different sort of way but then as I recently found out at 'The King's Speech', when you watch something really good you don't want to miss one w w w word. I suppose the reason is that it is very well written and everyone else involved in the production is on top form.

Its Danish but, unlike their bacon, has tremendous intensity. Most of the action seems to happen at night, in dark rooms and cellars so its all very noirish too and the story gradually engulfs more people spreading out like high definition slow motion ripples on a pond.

The acting seems fantastic but one can't be entirely sure since, by necessity, they all speak Danish. Sadly my Danish has not improved beyond now knowing that Danish for Hi is Hey pronounced in a shortened way that almost sounds like Hi. It also has the remorselessness and inevitability of a dentist drill.

So, thinking of watching Casualty next Saturday? Give it up, lets face it, its now rubbish, past its sell by date by years and I will tell you next weeks episode now so you do not need to watch it anyhow. To cut a long story short, (never easy with Casualty) a terrorist plants a dirty bomb which cannot be moved or it will explode, there is not time for bomb disposal to arrive but Charlie saves the day revealing, that at one time, he was in the army (the experience pushed him in to nursing) where he was a bomb disposal expert - while Charlie is doing his stuff with the bomb Ruth, who has managed to escape from her ward, trepans herself in a broom cupboard - nice touch eh oh and a man who keeps on complaining about tooth ache and is initially ignored ends up diagnosed with terminal cancer (large tumour in brain) with only few days to live i.e. his own personnel bomb. Now thats what I call poignant. Give it up, tune in to BBC4 and start following 'The Killing'.

Where there's muck

Growing fruit and vegetables on the west coast of Scotland is always a bit of a challenge.  A big advantage is that in early summer its daylight from 5am till 10 even 11pm but sadly its not always sunny and warm.

The weather  is so unpredictable and a cool wet week or two can sweep in and settle upon us at any time.   This can play havoc with germination and also seriously disadvantages the chances of survival for young plants in their battle with slugs.

Having spent years trying to control slugs with beer traps and torchlight night patrols I have given up and now grow most things outside by starting them off inside and planting them out as plugs in everything from loo roll cores, root trainers, plastic modules and mini pots home made from old newspapers. In my experience, well grown vigourous young plants can generally out grow the attacks of slugs.




Cool loving vegetables such as potatoes generally
 like living and growing and growing in Lochaber. As you can see from the picture 2010 was no exception.

But the key ingredient to success on the croft is the abundance of muck. Every day from sometime in October to sometime in May (when the cow and followers are in their sheds) 50 or so kg on finest cow muck is shovelled up and barrowed about the croft. Some is built into big piles for slow maturation, some is spread over bare ground to suppress weeds, be worked on by worms and turned into the ground in spring and so on. And some plays an important role in the polytunnel,  for it is used to fill the raised beds each year with fresh manure. In the shallower beds where salads, onions, leeks, beetroot, leaf beat and carrots etc. are grown six inches or so is burried under twice as much of last years muck which, a year later, is well rotted compost. The deeper beds have all their old compost removed for use elsewhere and are refilled to the top with fresh manure. 4-6 months later early potatoes and then tomatoes, cucumbers and corgettes/marrows are planted out into a pocket of old compost made in the now composting manure.   The pictures right above show how in 12 months fresh manure turns to worm rich compost.

In the polytunnel the manure/compost is not leached by high  rainfall and breaks down quicker in the higher temperatures while all its goodness and moisture retention properties enhance plant growth a well earned reward for all that barrowing.

Eating Out

After the major  disappointment of  eating out at 'Eating In' it is only fair to say that eating out can be a delight. Sadly, Sukie and I will now be deprived of regular pampering at Ardeonaig Hotel but  we still have the Real Food Cafe at Tyndrum.

While very different in style, Sarah at RFC shares Pete's commitment to source food that is fresh as possible, as local as possible and as sustainable as possible with lots of stuff is made and baked on site. As important as all that  is, best of all is that the food all tastes wonderful - we tend to be suckers for the fish and chips. Just writing that has made my mouth water.

I write this as a tip to those perhaps travelling north up the A82 to visit us. After battling with busses up Loch Lomond side reward yourself with the simple, fresh and wonderful food at the Real Food Cafe.

Happy now Dawn?

Dentists, dont you just love them?

Until a week or so ago I would have said a resounding No. But now we all have a new dentist, and she appears to be a rare sub species of dentist that I have never come across before. She is kind, thoughtful and gentle and I can lie out on the slab oops in the chair without developing instant clammy armpits.

Couldn't make my early appointment because both the car and our steep 200m drive were encased in several millimetres of ice. But a phone call assured me that 'I wasn't to worry, quite understandable'. Then a  call back gave me a slot later in the day.

I now have yet another filling and on the way, in the premature gloom of and overcast sky there was some nice light in the west from the ferry.

If only all my trips to the dentist had been like this.



  . . 1                                                  Looking west from the Corran ferry