Working with willow

I like learning new skills, despite the fact that it often takes a while for my co-ordination skills to catch up with my brain, as was the case with yesterday's new challenge: creating a non-living willow weave fence.

The premise was simple enough - twist two pieces of willow around each other, up then under, around each upright post. It was just that I couldn't quite 'see' it for some time. But as if by magic, after a hearty lunch of homemade soup, pizza and fresh bread, it all made a lot more sense and everything fitted into place. I always do think clearer after being fed.


The fence is surrounding the new community orchard, which we plan to eventually turn into a 'forest garden' (I'll explain more about this in a later post). Ideally, you would normally make a fence like this out of hazel, as willow doesn't last or age particularly well, but as hazel is both difficult and expensive to obtain around here it will have to do for now.

To make the boundary last a bit longer, we plan to plant hawthorn whips along the perimeter, so that when the willow does eventually give up the ghost in about five years or so, we'll have a ready made hedge to lay that can take its place.

James (above), who is a bit of an expert on all things willow, showed us the ropes and did a great job of both the weaving and supervising the less able of us. As usual with these jobs, there were more observers than workers, but David, James, his daughter Jane, me and Peter and Alan all made far more progress than I thought we would before the weather turned from fine drizzle into proper 'wet' rain.

I'm really pleased with how the fence looks, especially the way it curves along the old 'postman's path' down the right hand side. We've got some finishing off to do, such as cutting down the support posts to size and securing the top, but it already encloses the space and gives it a much more looked after feel, as well as hopefully keeping out the dogs.

I don't blame the dogs, as they're just doing what they do, but now we have the bin I've asked for for the last year, it would be nice if their owners could be a little more considerate and clear up after them. Despite the fact that I cleared a large bag full of muck from around the area before we started, the distinctive aroma still lingered on...

On a nicer note, today David and I planted the hazel tree near the native hedge in preparation for work to begin later next month on the bog garden/woodland/wildflower meadow area. I also managed to dig two trenches and plant some potatoes - Nicola (early maincrop) and Charlotte (2nd early).

After leaving the sanctuary of our back room's windowsill, the tomatoes are learning to survive in the outside world (well, the polytunnel) and I planted them out using a Geoff Hamilton technique I read recently. You tie some strong string around the root ball and then plant it in a hole (with a good sprinkle of blood, fish and bone) tying the plant around the string and up to the roof bars. As the plant grows, it can be wound around the string, removing the need for canes which seem to spend most of their time collapsing in on each other (or is that just me?!).

Random rhubarb moments

I've grown rhubarb in my garden for many years, but never seen anything like this, which has recently appeared on the Victoria and Champagne varieties in the garden. Seems like they've decided, at a pretty young age and strange time of year, to flower and set seed. Takes all sorts I guess.

Friday was another damp and miserable day weather-wise, so it was a case of braving out the elements in the sanctuary of the polytunnel. Peter and I managed to sow several trays of lettuce in preparation for our salad boxes/trays at an upcoming plant sale, along with three different types of leek which I hope will see us through most of the year.

We also sowed French beans in toilet rolls - perfect deep root trainers as you can plant them complete without disturbing the roots, they'll eventually rot down, and they don't cost a penny (no toilet jokes there, please).


This young plant is supposed to be an aubergine. I've had varying success raising these from seed over the years (in fact, I've never had fruit) but I thought I'd try again and give them a little more attention this time. I still have a sneaking suspicion though that I'm lavishing a lot of loving care and attention on a dock.

Sign of the times

I'm itching to get our beautiful new welcome sign up (see above) but we've yet to get a day where we're free and it's not been snowing/raining/blowing a gale (and sometimes all three at once for good measure). It began life as dozens of bits of clay rolled out and pressed by visitors at last September's Open Day, and thanks to a bit of magic by Marv at Muddy Fingers, it's all come together rather nicely ;)

Sorry for the late posting this week - not sure where the time has gone, but it caught up with me and now it's 9pm on Sunday and I'm ready to start the working week all over again...

On Friday Peter and I set to work on clearing the bed which will have potatoes in it this year, taking out some rather sorry looking spinach and barely-there beetroot which had been overwintering in situ to cover the ground more than anything else. We also managed to sow sow leeks and donated beans.

I was heavy with cold on Saturday and not up to much, but I did make two flasks of coffee and herbal tea (coffee for any local volunteers as they would've baulked at the idea of a herbal tea, thinking I'm a bit of a strange hippy-type person to even consider such a thing) just in case Alan remembered his rash promise to help tidy the hawthorn hedge along the side of the new orchard.

Despite the rain, he did turn up right on time and despite my pleas of 'just half an hour then', we spent two hours 'trimming' the hedge. I say 'trim' but it had a much more severe haircut than I'd ever let a hairdresser do to my top growth, but I'm hoping it will thank us for it in the long run as it's been neglected for quite a while.

You may be thinking 'where's a picture of the newly-shorn hedge then?' and there's a good reason for it - I haven't taken one. This is a deliberate act, as there's bound to be people out there who will say we've done it all wrong, so I'll wait until the new growth makes it look a little less severe...

Fresh greens

After a week in glorious, super-green Devon it may look, at first glance, that there's very little green 'up North' yet in comparison. But, on closer inspection, there are pockets of green shoots everywhere - from the hawthorn bushes to the tiny seeds in the polytunnel.

It's these tiny glimmers of hope for spring (and, dare I say it 'summer'?) that keep us northern gardeners going at this time of year. I'm afraid I'm about to be brought back down to earth with a bump this weekend though, if the weather forecast of heavy snow is true to its word.


The green manure above (grown in the polytunnel overwinter from seeds I gathered from the wildflower meadow last year) is doing really well, and is busy boosting nutrients in the border soil.


Peter and I sowed Prew's Special heritage peas in guttering this morning (this makes it easier to simply slide the peas into a prepared trench when they're ready to go outside, without disturbing their roots). We also prepared a couple of trays of 'living greens' - Greek cress and purple radish - which you eat when they're tiny shoots rather than leaving to grow to full size. I've never tried this before, so it's a bit of an experiment.

A combined effort between me, Peter and Alan meant the second row of the native hedge is now finished, and there's even some leftover for another hedge elsewhere.

I'm taking part in Garden Organic's trials this year, and one of them is comparing old and new varieties of lettuce and tomato, which I started off today, as well as sowing some of South Devon chilli farm's hot chillis.

Yesterday, the school group planted the first of the potatoes (Ambo) and we also sowed carrots, parsnips and radishes in containers.


I'm going to have to resist taking too much off the rhubarb in its first year, as it already looks lovely. Good job I've got an established plant in my own garden to provide for those essential rhubarb crumbles....