Garden round up

It's been a funny old gardening year. Started late, because of various distractions. Andy took a garden sabbatical (I think he was traumatised from the demise of our polytunnel) so I had to see to it all single handedly, in spare moments. And, at the risk of destroying any illusions that we live in a tranquil, rural paradise - we have been living next door to this;

The bush in the left hand corner is in our garden and the strip inbetween is our neighbour's garden. It began in late spring, and our little old terrace of cottages shuddered and shook as the wrecking ball demolished the ugly 1960's retirement home which had previously stood there. All day, nearly every day (even at weekends) since then, we have lived with the accompanying noise of big diggers, industrial tools, shouting navvies, chainsaws, drills - well, the usual cacophony. So time in the garden has been infrequent and as needs be.

But despite all that, we've had a pretty good year. Picking funny little harvests and wondering how to bung it all together.

Eaten string beans when we wanted. Lots of them.

Custard squash were a triumph: what a great little vegetable they are - and when they are young, can be eaten skin and all. If you store them, then just cut them in half, roast them and scoop them out of their rind bowl.

Potatoes were meagre and very disappointing; we have had barely any rain here all year. I tried to keep them watered with my bucket - no hoses here - but it was a sparse result.

So the garden quietly slips into scruffy dishevelledness. A few things linger, thanks to the unseasonably warm weather, but it is time for a winter rest.

Oh, but tomatoes - the tomatoes excelled! The seriously cold snap must have killed off any blight we had lingering, and they have thrived.

All the plants are now stripped back to stalks and fruit. Despite a night's frost last week, the plants are still strong and healthy.

And I continue to pick ripe tomatoes in November, which is extraordinary.

I also like to leave green tomatoes to gradually ripen indoors - they will last into late November at least, just left to hang.

We are still living next door to a building site, except that now some of the houses have been built - which means that this time next year, we will have new neighbours. The time to move has definitely come.

But at least I still have some last nasturtiums to enjoy.

Squash

Our poor little back garden is looking very end-of-season. Dishevelled and rotting, the lush greens of summer are slowly disintegrating. We had yet another terrible year for tomatos. The wet summer brought blight again, and by the time the weather improved it was too late. But miraculously we have managed to have a small but consistent crop of cherries, and they are still struggling on.

The purple and green string bean wigwam, a late planting, is also still cropping, despite it's raggedy appearance.

Our acorn squash were disappointing; only two so-so fruits from four plants. But we will save the seed and try again next year.

The cucumbers have been slow but magnificent. This last one has been quietly growing without us even noticing. Then, the other week, I glanced at the fence and - wumph!

Despite having many, many butternut squash plants, we only harvested five. What a satisfying crop it is. The heavy baby-heads are so solid and cold, that you really feel as if you have grown something. To save space, we grew most of them up poles and trussed them up.

At their height, they were voluptuous and triffid like. Now they are crumpled and dying, but still fruiting. I wonder of any of these tinies will get to edible stage before winter sets in?

Five fat butternut squash. One to eat now and four to store, somewhere dark and cool.

Titbits from Cotswold Peeps

We have found a delightful new walk in even more beautiful countryside.

I have been moonlighting as an informal delivery girl.

And there is a new, autumn online edition of UK HANDMADE MAGAZINE which is simply beautiful; full of projects, interviews, recipes and general loveliness. Just click on the front cover to read, and make sure you have a cup of tea and a slice of cake.