Seeds, Onions, Gables and a Committee That Doesn't Know What Month It Is

 Right then, where do I even start this week. Actually I know exactly where I start — at the seed trays, because that's where I seem to have been living lately. It's that time of year where the greenhouse feels like the most important room in the house, which it genuinely is as far as I'm concerned, and Sara would probably agree with me if only to get me out from under her feet indoors.

The Seed Sowing Continues — No Sign of Stopping

So this week I've been cracking on with more sowing and I do like to do things a particular way at this stage. I set my seeds in the smaller cells — not the big ones, not straight into pots — the small cells. Now I know some folk dive straight into bigger modules and that's fine, that works for them. But I find the smaller cells give me better control over germination and I can keep a lot more on the heated bench at once. The idea is to get the best germination rate I possibly can before anything goes near a bigger pot. It sounds fussy. It isn't fussy. It's just right.

The reason I do larger quantities than I probably strictly need is a simple one. I lose some at the potting on stage. I always have and I suspect I always will. It's just the nature of the game. You sow a hundred cells and you know full well that not every single one of those little seedlings is going to make it through to being a plant in the ground. Some will damp off, some will get a bit leggy, some will just decide that life isn't for them and quietly give up on you. So I sow generously, I always have, and I end up with what I need. It's not pessimism — it's experience. There's a difference.

This week I've also sown brussels sprouts and cabbages again. Yes, again. I know what some of you are thinking — haven't you already done those? Yes I have. But the brussels in particular I like to have a couple of batches of so I get a decent succession through winter. It makes sense when you think about it. You don't want them all ready at once, not unless you plan on eating brussels for breakfast, dinner and tea every day from October to February. Which, between us, I could probably manage, but Sara might have something to say about it.

Attraction — The Only Lettuce Worth Talking About

And then there's the lettuce. Now I grow a lot of things up at the allotment and I've tried a lot of varieties over the years, but when it comes to lettuce there is one I keep coming back to every single time without fail and that is Attraction. It's a loose head type — not a tight hearting lettuce — and I love everything about it. The taste is brilliant. Genuinely good, proper lettuce flavour, the sort of thing that reminds you why you grow your own in the first place. And here's the thing that really sells it for me — once you've picked it and washed it and got it in the fridge, it will keep for a week. A full week. Now for a home grown lettuce that is remarkable. Most varieties are wilting and sad within a day or two and you're rushing to use them up before they go over. Not Attraction. She sits in the fridge looking perfectly presentable and tasting great right to the end. If you haven't grown it, grow it. That's all I'll say on the matter.

Sweet Corn and Beans — Already Off Like Rockets

Now this is the bit that always makes me smile. The sweet corn and beans that I pre-germinated last week are already pushing through the surface of the compost and coming on strong. I mean really coming on. There's something deeply satisfying about seeing that happen — you put them in, they've already decided they want to live, and within days you've got proper little plants on their way. Pre-germination really is one of the best things you can do for your bigger seeds. I've said it before and I'll keep saying it. It takes all the guesswork out of it. You know before they go in the pot that they're viable and ready to go. No hanging around for three weeks wondering if something's happening under the surface.

Pricking Out — A Full Time Job With the Radio On

And then of course there's the pricking out. Once it starts, it doesn't stop. You do a tray, you turn around, and there's another one ready. It's relentless and I absolutely love it. I won't hear a word against it. I set myself up with my little custom dibbers — if you read the last post you'll know I made those on the lathe and they have been earning their keep this week — and I get the radio going, and I just drift into it. There is something almost meditative about pricking out seedlings with a decent tune on in the background. You're not thinking about anything else. You're just in there, gently, carefully, one by one, giving each little plant its space and its chance. It's one of those jobs that looks like nothing from the outside but actually feels incredibly rewarding when you step back and look at a full tray of nicely pricked out seedlings all standing up smart and ready. I genuinely could do it all day. And some days this week, I more or less have.

Up at the Allotment — Onions and Shallots First

Right, enough of the greenhouse. Up at the allotment this week there was a list of jobs and we had to prioritise, because the shed still needs its guttering and a proper paint, but those things had to wait. The onions and shallots needed to go in first and that was that. Me and Iris tackled that one together and I have to say she's getting really good at this. She knows the score now. We plant with generous spacings — deliberately so — and the reason is simple. I want to be able to get a hoe head between every single plant without doing damage. If you crowd them up you make that job impossible and then the weeds get on top of you before you know it. Leave the space, run the hoe through regularly, and you barely have a weeding problem at all. It's one of those things that takes slightly longer to plant but saves you an enormous amount of grief later in the season.

The Water. Or Rather, the Lack of It.

Now. I'm going to keep this brief because if I don't I will get myself into trouble. The committee, in their infinite wisdom, have still not switched the water on at the allotment for the year yet. I am not going to say a great deal about this other than — it is April. It is the most critical time of the year for water, second only to a heatwave in summer. Young transplants going in, seedlings being moved on, everything crying out for a drink, and the taps are still off. That is all I am going to say. I am saying no more. I am moving on. Dog house at the allotment is not somewhere I want to spend my weekends and I am already very close to the front gate.

The Greenhouse Build — Gables Up, Looking Brilliant

Back home now and there is some genuinely exciting progress to report on the new greenhouse. Both gables are built. Both sides are built to. She is taking shape and she looks absolutely the part. I have to say — I wasn't sure at first about the colour. Black. A black greenhouse. It felt a bit bold when I made the decision. But I am converted. I am fully, completely converted. It just looks good. It looks modern and smart and clean and it sets off the garden brilliantly. Sara has admitted it looks better than she expected, which in our house counts as a glowing endorsement.

Now, the actual full assembly — getting all the glazing in and finishing her off properly — has had to be put on hold for a little while. The reason? The potting on. Truthfully, when you're at this stage of the season everything has to flex around the seedlings. They don't wait. The greenhouse structure can wait a day or two. The seedlings cannot. So she sits there, gabled and sided and looking magnificent, while I crack on with the more pressing horticultural business. She'll be done soon enough and I cannot wait.

Sara Drafted In — The Lawn Comes Up

With a bit of help from my chief labourer — that would be Sara, who I suspect did not sign up for hard labour when she married me in 1986 but has been a very good sport about it ever since — I managed to get the rest of the lawn up at the front of the greenhouse site. All of it gone, cleared, ready for the gravel to go down. That is going to make such a difference once it's done. No more muddy patch, no more trying to mow around the greenhouse base. Just clean, neat gravel that looks the part and keeps the weeds down. Sara's back may have had a word or two to say about it by the time we were done but we got there.

The Back Shed Floor — Slow and Steady

And finally, a word on the back shed. I managed to get a bit more of the floor laid this week, now that the previous section of concrete has had time to cure properly. You can't rush concrete. You can want to rush it. You can stand and look at it and will it to dry faster. But it doesn't care. It does what it does in its own time and you just have to accept that. So I waited, I did other things, and then when it was ready I got another section down. Slow progress, but it is progress. This time of year everything moves at its own pace — seeds germinate when they're ready, concrete cures when it's ready, and the committee apparently switches the water on whenever it feels like it. Some things you can control. Some you cannot.

Right, that'll do for this week. There's always something to do, always something coming along, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks for reading — and if you're growing Attraction lettuce this year, do let me know how you get on.

Until next time,