The blog's first anniversary features our annual Devon County Show visit. In addition to overeating we watched duck herding, saw horses being shod, scratched a few itchy sheep, bought a reversible beekeeping hat/veil, had our teeth whitened, bid for cheese and veg in a produce auction, looked at varroa through a microscope, spun some wool, learned how to weave with fleece, talked to traders about off-grid hot tubs and the respective virtues of quad bikes v buggies, entered prize draws to win beekeeping products and a fruit press, and puzzled over the lack of secondhand stalls.
 
 
Remember the uphill rainwater harvesting system? That is no more. We have moved the take-off to a higher gutter so it runs down all the way to the top of the garden. Fortunately our most recent WWOOFer was sufficiently agile to negotiate the plastic safety windows and fit a drain pipe to the guttering. The design of the Cornish Unit is such that the rain collects only from the portion of roof directly above the window. There are two of these on each side (potential to duplicate the system) and rest of the roof drains into the lower gutter along the bottom of the tiled upper story. This is good, because a phenomenal amount of water collects from several houses, whereas this is a more manageable quantity. Lots of water is good, but it is no fun having to go out in torrential rain to deal with gushing overflows .
The water runs down the short length of drainpipe and then along a slightly downward length of about 7 pieces of drainpipe joined together. Luckily we had exactly the amount of pipe we needed and also the correct fittings - all out of number 7's skip last year. Two of the fittings were designed for something else, but ended up as handy inspection holes. These could potentially be used for introducing liquid fertiliser (wee?), or if there is no rain, for a hosepipe of tap water so that if we do have to use mains water at least the irrigation system infrastructure can be used as is (as will  be) rather than having a separate hosepipe routine. The inspection holes  are easily capped with the stretchy netting bags garlic comes in, to prevent leaves and debris entering the system.

We tested the system by tipping a gallon of water into the gutter and waited for it to flow through the system. Nothing came through. There are lots of gallons of water in that amount of drain pipe  - every foot or so must be the equivalent of a fizzy drink bottle. There are a couple of points where the pipe droops a bit, waiting for suitable forked sticks or other props to materialise, and where the pipe levels out. The water gathers here, but if you lift it up slightly it runs down to the water butt.

As sod's law would provide with any good irrigation installation, the work was followed by several days of fine weather. It didn't rain properly until after Russell left. After a few downpours there were still only about four inches of water in the butt. Still content with the manageability of it I was a bit curious as to why there is so little. The area of the roof must be similar that of the big shed, which runs into the ducks' water butt, filling quite quickly when it's raining constantly. After a couple of days I was really puzzled - and then I found the problem. The tap was in the 'on' position. The water was running straight out again. The moral of the story: always look for the simplest problem first.

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I am expecting the elder hedge to grow up around the lower parts of the white (and in places grey) piping, so it should meld into the background a bit - although I must say I am quite proud of our low-key civil engineering exercise. It didn't cost a penny to make (except a few inches of gaffa tape) - everything was scavenged from skips and free boxes at the end of the car boot sale. And of course I am utterly grateful for WWOOF labour, which doesn't come in a better form than that of Russell McLendon of Mother Nature Network.

Specifications and construction method

For the technically minded or the envious, this is what we used and how we did it:
  • Removed existing half-round angle and half round union bracket from the gutter (prised off with screwdriver I think)
  • Replaced with half round stop end outlet (clips into place)
  • Attached length of 68mm downpipe long enough to almost reach the windowsill
  • Attached offset bend 112.5º (I think) resting on windowsill for support
  • Joints were held temporarily with gaffa tape during construction
  • Joined lengths of 68mm drain pipe with downpipe sockets, sufficient to reach to the water butt at the top of the garden
  • We replaced 2 downpipe sockets with 112.5º pipe branches, making inspection holes and scope for adding liquid feed (these will need covering - with lids, gauze or netting etc)
  • The last pipe fed into side of water butt as this was the correct height.  (If it was higher and above the top of the water butt it would require a 92.5º offset bend or similar.)
 
 
I came home to find Mocha in the big raised bed (I could tell by the tone of her voice something was different) and a female blackbird dead in the ducks' bath. Rhiannon blames the ducks. The other day
she witnessed an  interaction between the ducks and a black bird (not necessarily a blackbird). The bird had gone into the ducks' house and stolen one of their eggs. They ganged up, spread their wings and charged at it, flapping it away. Silly really, when I nick their eggs every day and they don't seem to care. Maybe it's just revenue protection.

I think it's more likely that the blackbird drowned in the bath after being injured by a cat - the same cats that dig up my seedlings and use our garden and shed roof as their toilet.  But seeing Mocha with a frog the other day does make me wonder. She ran around the garden like a nutter, chased by Tahini (who probably wanted a share) and by me (trying to rescue the frog). Mocha wasn't having any of it, gobbling at the poor little thing, legging it determinedly around the garden, taking cover in behind bins and buckets, until I gave up. If it was going to be dead (which it was) it may as well be eaten and turned into eggs. It's a wild world out there in the garden.
 
 
There has been a phenomenal amount of rain. I heard on the radio a few days ago that in the South West we had had a fortnight's rain in 24 hours. That would explain why the ducks have managed to make the garden quite as slushy as they have. They take the bare soil that they have already worn and trodden in drier times and turn it into a slithery mud bath, and anywhere that water collects, like down the bottom of the garden where they used to have their bath, they dig ponds. They peck and puddle, peck and puddle until the water collects in the dip. They even dig ponds in other peoples gardens when they go on one of their jaunts. But it has been worse than usual here. The water is collecting beyond the fence protecting the perennial salad bed, at about the distance the ducks can stretch their necks. Mocha, white breast a bedraggled mess of mud, is particularly skilled at reaching through and twisting at a 90 degree angle to remove anything living. I don't blame them (I have a theory that it is impossible to harbour negative feelings towards ducks) because they are laying so consistently and reliably. It must take a lot of energy to produce a perfect egg every day - the sort of hunger I used to get when I was breastfeeding.

A spate of heavy rain is a good opportunity to observe the ingress, egress and flow of the rain water. Some of it sprinkles from the sky, landing everywhere. The house roof produces the greatest concentration, gushing along the gutters and down the pipe into the drain. Part of this is the up-stream neighbour's run-off, as we share a gutter. The shed is collecting rain from one side of the roof, into the ducks' waterbutt, which is now full. It is fed by syphon into their bowl, and I can see how full the butt is by how high I need to hold the pipe to stop it flowing. The hose has a push-fit cap, and the pressure is not high enough to breach this. This water is easy to manage. There is no overflow fitted to the butt so it must be spilling onto the ground, but there is a pile of prunings in the way, waiting to be shredded, and it is  not enough to notice - more importantly the ducks haven't noticed. But it does need an overflow fitted to drain surplus into the gully. The gully is working very well, the water gradually flowing further as I clear obstructions, get the level correct and extend the trench a little further down the garden. I am confident that this system has turned a dry, scorched, south facing bed with a hungry box hedge behind it, where the apple tree suffered badly from powdery mildew, into a lush, well irrigated bed.

There is another source of water, and that is the run-off from the garages. The gutter runs down to my garage, flows largely into the downpipe, partially overflows onto the ground and under the garage door which is protected by sandbags and a grill and channel, then just runs onto the ground. It flows  down our claimed land, straight through our gate and into the garden. From here it follows the path of least resistance, stopping on the path where I have started replenishing the woodchip surface but been held up by the malfunctioning shredder. Where the deep woodchip stops the water stops too, and there is dug by the ducks (another small pond in the middle of the path). There is no way to direct it to the storm drain in the carpark. There is tarmac with gradient in the wrong direction. So it is a classic permaculture example of a problem waiting to be turned into an asset. The water is going to continue coming from the garages, and in dryer spells would be a great resource. It just needs to be directed and stored.

The most useful place to store it is in the ground, not in the sense of tanks and pumps, but in the soil itself, so that when we get another dry spell the ground is porous and able to accept scant showers. The water needs to flow into a swale across the top of the garden and to use the slight gradient to let it move downwards, like the ducks' gully does so admirably. Practically, the swale should dot-to-dot from the main waterbutts collecting roof run-off, to the point where the garage run-off flows in, to the ducks' overflow. My experience with the gully and with Spanish acequias suggest that the best way will be to start with a shallow channel to follow the way the water runs, and the water itself will cut it deeper. There has to be sufficient capacity in the channel for the amount of water flowing at a given time. If there is only a little water it will soak in almost immediately, leaving the three water sources as the dampest parts of the garden. This is where I should plant thirsty plants. When there is more water it will flow faster and further along before it soaks in. The unknown quantity is how much water there will be when we have a period of really heavy rain like we are having at the moment. The danger is that the swale will overflow, so it needs to be deep enough to deal with any influx. But not too deep, because it will be better if the excess water reaches further down the garden, in a second, and maybe third, swale. There is going to be a balance between sufficient depth at ingress to the swale to deal with the maximum volume of water, coupled with sufficiently shallow gradient to allow the water to flow slowly enough to soak into the ground as it goes, making best use of the water and not to cause erosion or loss of nutrients.

The best way to do this will initially be by trial and error, controlling the depth and direction with the azada. But there will be a time to settle on the depth, because then we can grow plants in the swale. Until then it will be unproductive bare soil and will always need protecting from the ducks. This is going to mean a tunnel of freezer baskets or similar, to allow light and water and easy section removal, but no naughty ducks.
 
 
Weather permitting, our pop-up 'farm gate' will be open on Fridays and Saturdays throughout the season. It is situated in the back lane behind Denys Road, leading from Maudlin Road into town.  There will normally be duck eggs for sale and a selection of perennial herbs and fruit bushes. Later in the season we will add some salad bags and seasonal fruit. For more details see The Very Tiny Farm Shop.



 
 

Pruning

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I used to be a fuschia
The pink fuschia that produces jelly bean fruit had grown rather tall and leggy and was definitely ready for pruning - last year. I had the additional issue that it had grown up through a bit of metal trellis work and had to be extricated

The instructions are to prune heavily every year in the spring. You cut back every branch just above a pair of leaf buds, three or four inches from the ground.

Mine looks pretty dead now, but the idea is that it will re-grow with vigour also making new growth  below ground. I hope it does.



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I used to be an umbrella
They say to wait until after the last frost, so now the weather is dampening I have taken the risk that it will be warmer and unlikely to freeze. As a precaution I have covered it with one of my new cloches.

Clear umbrellas make good cloches as they look attractive and although compact are quite tall - and have a nice big spike in the middle to poke into the ground to prevent it from blowing away. Hopefully.

Propagating

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New growth with at least two pairs of leaves
Pruning creates plentiful propagation material. Fuschia can be propagated from cuttings in spring, summer and autumn. In spring you use the new growing tips with two or more pairs of leaves. You can pinch them off easily with your thumb nail - no need for secateurs.

I experimented with one batch of soft cuttings, one batch of harder stick-like cuttings, and

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Cut off the leaves next to the node
With a sharp knife on a board you cut off the lower pair of leaves, and most of the stem below the node. You need to use a sharp knife so that the cut is clean rather than jagged.

The node is the place where the leaves join the stem and is where major growth takes place. This is where the roots will emerge.

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Insert around the edges of pot
The cuttings can all be inserted around the edge of one pot, using normal organic potting compost mixed with vermiculite or something to aid drainage. They need to be planted deep enough for the node to be below the surface of the soil.

Half of each batch I dipped in organic rooting gel and  the other half I kept plain. It should be readily apparent if there is any merit in using the hormone.

The two pots are placed in plastic bags on the windowsill to reduce transpiration. This is the process where moisture that would have been absorbed by the roots is evaporated into the atmosphere through the leaves.  And we don't want that.

The cuttings should root in 14 - 28 days, and will then double in size every three weeks. Then you can take more cuttings, and the original plant will sprout two bits of new growth

 
 
The trouble with writing a garden blog is that during the winter you're happy to sit at the computer, but there is nothing much to write about. Then suddenly spring comes along and it's all action, action, action with no time to write about it. Everything needs doing at once. We had WWOOFers for a week which provided a welcome boost, both in terms of the WWOOF work itself, and the encouragement to get me outside and achieving more myself.

The ducks had been really naughty and escaping all the time, going to our neighbour's house, eating their daffodils and digging a pond in the middle of the garden. So Daniel pollarded the willow and used the thickest pieces to make stakes which I drove into the ground about 4" apart along the foot of the box hedge. We got about half way along only to discover that they were getting out somewhere completely different. But it's a good start, and once thinner bits of willow are woven through it'll look good, as well as use up the less withy-like selection of this year's willow crop.

The picket fencing now goes along the two outside edges of the shed, with a real roof garden in the making, The planters are polystyrene for ease of getting them up there and for lightness (just in case). I've sown carrots in one of them. I saw a TV programme where they visited an allotment and an old guy had sown carot seeds really thickly in a big pot. It had the depth, the drainage, the loose soil for the roots, and he demonstrated how at first you pick little sweet cocktail carrots, making space for others to grow larger. It appealed to me to have one compact pot with them all in one place, and considering I have only ever managed to grow half a carrot in all the years I've been gardening, I've really nothing to lose.


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 At the moment all the saved rainwater collected off the shed roof has gone, used first for the ducks and then tipped along a shallow gulley at the back of the driest bed. This system is based on the Moorish irrigation acequias in southern Spain. where the water runs  along shallow channels constructed to take the water to a particular area of land.

Here the water is gravity fed from the butt into the duck bowl then gets used a second time to water the apple and raspberries. It's a good system. It saves my back - I only have to tilt the heavy bowl rather than lift and carry it - and the water is carried away from the bath area where the ducks would normally puddle it into a quagmire. 

But there is nowhere near enough, and with a seedbed newly sown a nice sprinkle of clean water is very welcome in this March heatwave. I checked on South West Water's website, and we are not due to have a hosepipe ban, which is a relief. Our reservoirs are 85% full apparently. So I've got the hose set up again for watering the garden.

 
 
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I finally went to a Transition Town Totnes event, a REconomy project, the Local Enterprice Forum. It was a networking and showcase opportunity with speakers and a local  Green Dragon's Den. I didn't come away any clearer about how I will narrow down my ideas to make one coherent, marketable business, but I did come away inspired by water vortexing.

This model is made from two large Lambrini bottles with a little plastic gizmo that joins the lids together. You swirl the bottles around and the vortex is created as the water runs from top bottle to bottom. It effectively 'reprograms' the water, purifying it and energising it. On What the Bleep do We Know they showed the structure of a glass of water that had the label 'Love' on the side, compared with other positive or negative words. Basically the water records it, and the vortex system puts the water back into neutral so you can add positive vibes Or something like that.

 
 
For the last six Wednesdays I have been on a Natural Beekeeping course with Phil Chandler, author of The Barefoot Beekeeper  and proponent of the horizontal top-bar hive. Regular readers might remember my trip to Richard Everett's apiary last year, with modified dadent hives similar to those used by Brother Adam at Buckfast Abbey. The top bar hive has a number of advantages over these more 'commercially traditional' hives, allowing the bees to create comb in a natural shape rather than on rectangular frames, and also allowing inspection of the hive - and removal of honey - from either end without disturbing the bees and upsetting the hive atmosphere. For those interested in knowing more I thoroughly recommend Phil's very readable book, and also his website www.biobees.com where you will find all the information you could ever want including downloadable plans for building your own top bar hive, and loads of free articles about every aspect of natural beekeeping. Like all beekeepers I have met, he is a real enthusiast.

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Last week Phil brought in some honeycomb. He passed around a couple of combs, still affixed to their top bars. He showed us how to handle them, because one of the minor disadvantages is that the comb is unsupported and, particularly when heavy with honey, must not be twisted on a horizontal plane lest the comb snaps off the top bar. He showed us a deft little manoeuvre for twisting the comb on a vertical plane for looking at the side furthest away. And then he sent for a bunch of spoons and told us to tuck in. Now I have seen honeycomb before: firstly in tubs in the grocer's, swimming in honey, and secondly old comb, abandoned by the bees, dried and light. And that is what I thought this was, because there was no sign (to me) that it was laden with honey. But once you break the surface of the cells, the honey flows out thick and rich. At the top of the picture you can see a dark brown, then a dark golden brown, and lastly white. These are cells with honey made from nectar from different plants. They all taste different: richer, sharper, more fragrant. The white honey, Phil told us, is almost certainly made from ivy, as it crystallises almost immediately - hence the white colour, although it didn't feel crystalline.

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This week we went to one of Phil's apiaries on Dartington Estate. It was a cold, foggy afternoon with very little activity from the bees (luckily, as it was pointed out to me that with my furry jacket  I had come dressed as a bear). Phil took the roof off one of the hives - which you can do without disturbing the hive because the top bars and followers are still in place, with straw on top for insulation. If you put your hand under the straw at either end you can feel the difference between the end of the hive with the colony, and the end without. Maintaining the temperature of the hive is important, which is also why in winter only one entrance hole is left open.


 
 
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It is most definitely spring. The frogs are out having their usual unabashed orgy in the pond outside the deskroom window. There are always a lot of them, wallowing around, croaking, cuddling, copulating, but this year they have been much bolder and have taken over the entire patio. Gwydion had to ring around his friends to warn them not to tread on frogs when they arrived in the dark. The frogs haven't adapted as well to domestication as they might. Their policy of remaining completely still, presumably in the hope that we don't see them camouflaged just doesn't work when you want to avoid being trodden on or eaten by ducks. Because when a frog does move, it moves fast, jumps a long way and vanishes into the undergrowth, all of which are more effective than staying still. But there's no telling them. I've been on at them for weeks to keep out of the ducks' way, but they don't listen. I found one out in the front garden in a very sorry state. I thought it was dead, lying splayed upside-down on the ground, but then its little leg moved. It had been beaten up quite badly. Mocha stood there looking defiant. Tahini had a greedy gleam in her eye that is quite out of character for her. I picked up the frog, reoriented it into an upright position, comforted it as best I could (how do you comfort a frog for heaven's sake?) and put it on the rock in the little pond in the middle of the raised bed. It stayed still, or dead. I picked it up again and put it in the water. It swam, kicking itself off and later I spotted it peering from under the rock, looking shocked. Then it was gone, and as it hasn't floated bloated to the surface I assumed it's OK. A job well done. I thought.

The other sign of spring - given that the snowdrops have been out since December - is the plum tree. It is a blinding white splash in the otherwise brown garden, and with bumblebees buzzing around collecting early nectar, I can be pretty sure of a bumper plum crop again. It is quite daunting how quickly the seasons move from one to the other. I've only just recovered from my last plum harvest, and there is nature setting me up for another. It's amazing that one tree can produce so much, and while the flowers are white it is easy to see on quite what scale. Soon the petals will drop and the leaves will come and the tree will recede back into  general 'garden' colour, until suddenly it turns red and purple with plums in late summer.

With our first WWOOFers coming in a fortnight it is time to get into gear and organise this year's tasks. I have two card-file systems: one for seeds to be planted, the other for jobs to do around the garden, The seeds are organised by month and then by biodynamic 'planting day'. March is swollen with pending packets - many of them out of date flowers  rescued from the neighbour's skip, but also my carefully chosen Tamar Organics vegetable selection. Everything suddenly needs to be sown at once, and I find that dividing into Fruit, Leaf, Root and Flower adds a bit of structure and limits what can be done in a day. The garden tasks I arrange as worksheets, listing the materials and tools required. Organising work for the WWOOFers is essential in order to use their time well and give them interesting things to do.