About three or four years ago I decided that I didn’t want the fig in a large pot where it was. So in a moment of madness, I dug a big hole and dragged, heaved and eventually dropped the fig - pot and all - into the hole and earthed it all back in. But in the process, I hadn’t realised that I’d snapped a major root of the fig tree that had grown through the small drainage hole in the pot and firmly rooted itself into the ground.I thought I’d just leave the fig to see if it would recover, as Mum had had one and it was pretty voracious, hence leaving it in the pot. The roots on Mum’s fig weren’t restricted, and she had to cut hers back more than liberally each year.

However, in the intervening years since the traumatic move, my poor figgy fig wasn’t doing so well. It would manage to squeeze a couple of leaves out on the end of each knarly branch, before producing one single sorry fruit about the size of a large cherry. Then it would give up and drop everything quick sharp.

I was seriously thinking of taking the whole thing out this year and giving up. But as ever, I was being impatient. This year the fig tree has started producing normal sized fruits and leaves. Granted, they’re not huge, but they’re reasonable! And of course it’s great to have another harvestable fruit at the Smallest Smallholding, in addition to the damsons, plums and cherry (and blueberry once I get hold of a couple of extra varieties for cross pollination). So I’m looking forward to harvesting (if the birds don’t get there first) the fruits and doing something interesting with them. Any interesting ideas most welcome!

Usually I would be moaning my socks off about the rain, the dreaded rain! But it’s actually a welcome relief, things were starting to look a bit parched, and I imagine my water butt is brimming again. Of course, it also saves me all the watering of an evening too. Not such a bad chore, but it’s good to have ‘free time’ to do other ’stuff’.

I haven’t really been that active at the Smallest Smallholding lately. Lots of work and stress in other areas (praying for funds to clear, only to be bitterly disappointed that I am going to have to wait yet another weekend with not a penny to my name), as well as trying to forge ahead on the allotment. We are currently undertaking the UTTERLY BORING task of removing all the twitch in the ‘upper section’ of the allotment by fork and hand. It’s going in a metal bin to be burnt later on. I also cleared around the raspberries (still haven’t worked out whether they’re summer or autumn fruiting), and am currently sporting a slightly infected splinter wound, thanks to our ancient wooden-handled rake.

I managed to get at least 50 more sets of my Hercules onions in here at the Smallest Smallholding though, only 50 more to find space for. Although, if I’m honest with myself, I am really pushing it a bit now. Last year I got through 50 sets in around 3-4 weeks, and by August I had cleared them out. This year I hope at least my inability to plant anything on time has translated into a sort of successive planting plan, where I’ll be able to continually harvest. That’s the plan anyway. It really depends on the weather this year - I’m relying on another run of very mild weather to get everything going. And I’m also relying on Lilla, one of my cats, to NOT go under my fleece tunnels and dig up the onion sets. Or roll in my carrot seedlings and crush and/or displace them. I say rely - unfortunately Lilla is a law unto herself and despite my protests, she does as she pleases.

I still haven’t planted any sweetcorn, and let’s face it - I could be setting myself up for a big failure if I tried to do it now. Bunnies are chomping their way through sweetcorn like it’s going out of fashion, so I may have to resort to (shock! horror!) buying in some plugs to get a bit of a head start. I’m a bit funny about buying in plants from supermarkets or garden centres. I just feel like I haven’t had enough control over them, I can’t really say “look what I grew!” because I wasn’t responsible for the whole process. But then again, I bought my ‘leeklings’ from a WI stall last year, and leeched off someone else’s handywork and claimed those leeks as my own. It feels a bit different though, taking something from another gardener rather than a commercial outlet. Maybe I’m just far too puritan about these things.

My aubergines are going very well and need repotting now. Once the weather has improved a bit I’ll put a few of them outside the door to sell, along with my tomatoes. My tomatoes are gaining height as each day passes, quite spectacularly. I still can’t get over the fact that not long ago, they were tiny dormant seeds, and now look at them! This year I’ve been so much more regimented with my watering. I am a bad earth mother sometimes, but this year I am willing to face up to my failures and try to improve. My tomatoes suffered as a result of my haphazard watering schedule last year. We ended up with black rot under a lot of the fruit. And I had too many plants to contend with, so we ended up chucking lots of overripe tomatoes to the hens. I suppose that’s not such a bad thing, they gobbled the toms up with glee. Free food, and all that.

Oh, and the asparagus that are going to seed are looking glorious.

On the allotment, I managed to inherit two large patches of rhubarb with some impressive crowns. I was actually surprised at how early you can harvest rhubarb, even without forcing it. See, I still have a lot to learn about growing veggies.

So off I trundled on Sunday, having decided that rhubarb crumble was on the menu for dessert, following our Sunday (veggie) roast. Whilst being blown to pieces, I pulled up a whole armful of sticks of rhubarb of varying sizes and thicknesses. Here’s a completely au naturel action shot of me approaching aforementioned rhubarb:

The ones that were far too thick and stringy were cut up (to aid decomposition - yep, MORE compost talk) and thrown (literally, from afar) onto the compost heap. I’m rubbish with portion sizes so I kept pulling and snipping the leaves off, and deciding that I didn’t have enough for one rhubarb crumble, would pull some more. This went on for a fair few minutes. I have a fear of cooking and not producing enough food for a meal that will leave me feeling satisfied. Or full to bursting. So as a consequence, I pretty much always cook far too much.

Now, bear in mind that there are only two of us here at the Smallest Smallholding. This is how much rhubarb I ended up with for my one crumble:

Once I got home, I washed and chopped up the rhubarb, cooked it with about 3/4 of an inch of water in the saucepan, and added about 6oz sugar. Once it was soft, and wafting delicious sweet acidic smells out of the kitchen, I strained it a bit and had to divide it into two dishes. I rubbed together 8oz of plain flour, 4oz of (fair trade) demerera sugar and 4oz (organic) butter together for the topping, sprinkled it on liberally, put a little more sugar on top and put both in the oven at gas mark 5. After about 20 minutes, my rhubarb crumbleS were ready. We served them up with Green & Black’s caramel and hazlenut ice cream.

Fan-bloody-tastic. My first allotment harvest was a veritable success.

In the picture above you will see a water tap key and a normal padlock key. I obtained these today when I handed in my payment and signed tenancy agreement at my town council offices. So it’s official - I’m an allotment holder as well as a smallest smallholder! Am going to commission my Mum to make me a nice little keyring to attach these two small but very important instruments to.

My plot is literally right next to a tap, which is going to save me so much time and effort with the watering. I’ve only gone for a 5 pole plot, but I’m going to ring up next week when the lady in charge of running the allotments is back, and see if the plot next to mine is vacant too. I think it was originally a 10 pole plot that has been divided up into two. I’m hoping that I can get both, as I’ll lose a bit of space having to run a path all the way through the middle. If it’s already taken, it’s not such a bad thing. Kind of hoping it will be vacant though…

There seem to be shallots still in the ground, as well as some unpruned raspberry (possibly some other fruit) bushes at one end. The nettles have started creeping in, but there’s no thistles thankfully! So of course the first job will be digging and weeding. But it looks as though it’ll be a manageable job.

Here at the smallest smallholding I’ve started making trips down to my cousin’s best mate’s stable to collect some really well rotted manure. She’s desperate to get rid of it, and I’m only too happy to bag it up and bring it back. My existing plots are being manured, but as I’ve been told countless times not to manure where the root veg is going, I’m not going to manure the new plot (carrots, parsnips etc), just add some bulk to help the soil structure and some general (organic, if I can get my hands on it) peat-free compost. My compost on the compost heap isn’t ready yet, and the old compost bin I have really needs emptying and re-structuring, as a load of it got mummified last year. My composting skills consist of break it down, chuck it on, if it’s hot and dry water it a bit, don’t put too much of the same thing on, and if you can be bothered, turn it or move it around occasionally. It’s working on the other compost heap (mountain), but the compost bin was neglected and is basically a bit crap.

Whilst reading up about manure and poo, as you do, I found out that in Africa they use dried elephant poo (dung) to make paper. Amazing! Apparently herbivores produce much less pungent poo, which is virtually odourless when it dries. I’m guessing that in parts of Africa where there are herds of elephants, poo is in abundance.So it seems to me to be a very environmentally friendly and finacially frugal venture. Can’t see it catching on here though. What with the lack of elephants, general squeamishness and dettol-toting hygiene freaks.

I’ve been running a chat forum for a few months now. It’s basically a place where like-minded souls can chat about many subjects including green living, foodie subjects and recipes, rural issues and politics, smallholding, sustainable living and allotmenteering, arts, crafts and traditional trade skills, health & wellbeing, or just partake in a bit of random general chat! We currently have members from around the globe, as far reaching as Germany, South Africa and Australia, as well as a core of English folk.

The hope is that I’ll be able to expand the website to include a proper online magazine in addition to the forum. There will be articles covering subjects such as rural crafts, ethical shopping, seasonal produce, recipes, wildlife, hen and bee keeping as well as gardening tips and ways and means to live the good life. Some members have already volunteered their services to write articles on their specialisms, and I’m always on the lookout for interesting contributions. I’m also currently compiling a (free) business listing for anyone that has a service to offer or products to sell, and is a member of the website, or related to a member of the forum. The hope is that this will grow in time to provide a really comprehensive list that will prove useful for both country and town dweller.

The forum is called Rural Muse and can be found at www.ruralmuse.co.uk

I’m the worst sort of vegetarian - a fussy one. I could be possibly the only vegetarian on the planet than doesn’t really like salad. I could eat it if it’s with something - say a beanburger in a bun - but a bowful of salad is one of my worst nightmares. And funnily enough, I don’t really like eggs either. The ones our hens lay get used by Rich, or sold for £1 a half dozen to friends, family and from the garden gate. Any eggs that I eat go into cakes and bakes - try a sponge with 3 large fresh free range eggs and really taste the difference. We’re only getting a couple a day at the moment - Cynthia is probably waiting for a turn in the weather and Yoko with her sterile EYP is a non-goer. She’s actually better at the moment, her swelling has gone down and she’s running around again, despite looking a bit raggedy as she’s in the throes of her moult.

You may be thinking “well what on earth does she eat then”, and I would reply, plenty! I’m expanding my horizons you see, trying to plant out new vegetables this year to add to my cullinary experiences. So far I’ve invested in some pink fir apple seed potatoes, as well as trying aubergines, a variety of squashes/curcubits and broad beans. I’ve got completely stuck in a rut with my cooking, and although I often manage to get my 5 fruit and veg a day, typically they’re the same 5 fruit and veg. Oh of course I’ll be growing potatoes, onions and carrots this year, I’ll probably have them growing out my ears by the end of the season. I wouldn’t be without them, they’re the basis of any good meal. But I’m taking Carol Klein’s advice from her Grow Your Own Veg book - try and grow things that are hard to find or expensive in the supermarket. One thing I’ve got to look into is some fruit cages this year - both Rich and I are ardent fans of berries in all shapes, colours and sizes.

I’m also trying to eat seasonally, the plan being that one day I’ll just have to walk out the back door and pull up or pick dinner. Last night I made one of my favourite simple seasonal dinners, my Simple Leek Soup:

Simple Leek Soup (for 2 people):

2 or 3 medium potatoes (chopped)

3 or 4 leeks (chopped)

1 large onion (chopped)

Olive oil

Sea Salt and Cracked Black Pepper

Cayenne Pepper

Veg stock (preferably marigold)

Directions: Put some olive oil in a pan, add the potatoes, leeks and onions and sweat down for about 10 mins on a very low heat. Then add about 2 pints of water and veg stock (1 heaped dessert spoon of stock per pint) and stir. Add a dash of ground cayenne pepper or chilli powder (schwarz is probably best), sprinkle of salt and plenty of ground cracked black pepper. Bring to the boil and then leave to simmer on a low heat for about 50mins, stirring occasionally. Take off heat, and then whizz up with a hand blender to a smoother consistency. Serve immediately with crusty bread, or leave to cool and store in fridge overnight and reheat the next day for slightly deeper flavour. Easy and damned tasty!

I’m currently drawing up a plan to grow loads of (mostly cullinary) herbs next year - part of a little commercial enterprise I’m cooking (ho ho!) up. The other day I was out in the car with Mum, and we had to take a little detour through the grounds of Woburn Abbey (belonging to Duke and Duchess of Bedford). Mum had been there the day before and she was explaining about the walled kitchen garden. Apparently there used to be upwards of 40 gardeners at Woburn Abbey - now there are only 6. How times have changed! Anyway, we stopped and I had a quick chat with the deer that were hanging around the side of the track that leads out of the Park grounds, and then whilst we were driving along and talking, Mum revealed to me that the land and surroundings (about an acre and a half) that our house was built on (and the bit left over next to our house that was left fallow for decades) used to be a proper market garden, with chickens, vegetables, and the remains of the orchard. The neighbouring 70s terrace was built on the remaining land after our cottages and the nearby railway cottages were built, but with their postage stamp sized gardens, a generous bulk of the fallow land was left for some 20 odd years to become overgrown with brambles and bindweed. So much so that we didn’t really realise that there were all these fruit trees growing there until we cleared it when we bought it in the 90s.

So it’s really made me want to almost “put it back” to what it once was. You see, we have two parts to the Smallest Smallholding - there’s what we call the “garden”, and then the “working” Smallest Smallholding bit. The garden is obviously for flowers, socialising, pottering, and the like. The working bit is the centre of the smallest smallholding, although with my love of all things wildlifey, I admit it will be more like a potager/kitchen/market garden than just land turned over purely to arable means.

As far as I know, part of the Smallest Smallholding is sited on the remains of an old orchard, most of which has vanished in the intervening years. We have a very old, knarly Victoria plum tree, two damsons and crab apple. The crab apple, when uncovered after years of struggling to grow under 6ft brambles and bindweed, flourished and every year has provided us with a pretty impressive crop of apples.

Thing is, we never really knew what to do with them.

A few years ago the main bough had split, but as the three fruit trees were in a handy triangular position, we used them as interim washing line posts. The washing line kept the crap apple together and it seemed perfectly happy like that. It seems though that the wind and rain of late (typical English summer weather), as well as this year’s quite frankly ridiculously large crop of apples had taken its toll, and today I discovered that the largest branch was precariously hovering and swaying about. So Rich did the manly thing and sawed the bough off, leaving me to contend with breaking the branches down into firewood for the winter. Handy!

But it seems we should have really bolted the thing together as now, we’ve lost a good third or half of the tree. Still, it seems pretty happy with what’s left. And I have less apples to contend with.

Apparently crab apples have a high content of pectin - great for jams and jellies. But to be honest, I usually leave them for the birds in the late autumn, and any left overs get slung on the compost heap. This year I was hoping to use at least some of them, so any tips or ideas of what I can do with crab apples, beside crab apple jelly, would be greatfully received!