It was first forecast to last just a couple of days, but by the weekend it looked like it was here for a bit so we ventured out and “did a shop” (AKA any excuse for a Starbucks!).

It snowed some more over the weekend, but by Monday the OH confidently announced “I think we’ve seen the worst of it”. Tuesday morning he let the cat out and said it had snowed a little more overnight. When I asked how much he said about an inch. It wasn’t until I took the dog for a run [read as swim through the drifts] that we realised it was more like another 4″.

It snowed pretty hard throughout the day yesterday, and a little more overnight. All the time, the daytime temperature had remained around freezing, so we now have some spectacular icicles. Despite the steady thaw we still have about a foot and a half of snow on the flat, 3′ where ploughed and the drifts and cornices up the road are head-height.

Really can’t believe I read this on the Met Office website this morning:
“If you have seen snow recently, please let us know…”

We’ve also discovered that clearing a path in the snow obviously effects the delicate balance of the universe somehow, for no soon have you finished, it starts to snow again!

As I was getting ready to take the dog for her swim this morning I looked out the front door and there was a lovely blue sky, just starting to colour up with the sunrise… and a bloody great big snow cloud building on the horizon. Needless to say, it reached us before we got home again (that’s another daily occurrence just now) but madly, we don’t mind.

I don’t think we’ve seen the last of it.

3 years ago, I decided to buy some slips. I know, they grow in warm climates, but I like a challenge. They’re expensive, but I thought I’d give them a try. They arrived early July, I rooted them, planted them and waited. The results – pencil size pointless waste of time and money.

I decided not to bother buying slips again, so the following year I tried to grow my own slips from a shop-bought sweet potato. I know, the slips you can buy have been developed to grow in the UK and those grown in Peru… in Scotland… I know! The results were worse – the slips didn’t start growing until June/July, meaning they wouldn’t have been planted until later than those the previous year.

This year, armed with the heated propagator I was given for Christmas last year, I decided to try again. So, in January, the halved, shop-bought sweet potato was set in the propagator, suspended in water, wished well and left alone.

I really thought I’d failed. It did nothing for a few months (except turn the water manky). Then, around March time, it started sending up slips. I’m guessing it was to do with light levels (not sure if that’s right, as moth people I’ve heard of growing their own slips do it in an airing cupboard). So, the slips got rooted, potted, and finally planted in the polytunnel through black plastic in the sunniest spot.

Today, I dug them up (had a few about a month ago, but dug the lot today).

The Results: about a 300% improvement on those designed to grow in the UK. These were as fat as a thick thumb on average. I did notice the ground appeared to be quite compacted though.

Knowing my capacity to think “next year, I’ll do…” and then never quite getting round to it, I decided to prep the area they’ll be planted in next year (yet, a 300% improvement can only mean I’ll be trying again). So, gave it a deep digging, broke the soil down well, added a couple of large buckets of 4-year-old leaf mold I had bagged and stored and half a dozen buckets of 2-year-old compost. Lightly forked it over and watered. Hopefully the worms will finished the job over winter, but I’ll see how it’s doing in spring and add anything else I think it needs before I cover it with black plastic to start heating up.

Watch this space – next year I’m aiming for a bucket full! Yeah, I like a challenge!!!

“I’ve been asked to tell you about XYZ”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have time to discuss this today”
“I’m sorry, I’m having trouble hearing you”
[Funny, you didn't have any problems 2 minutes ago] “I said I’m sorry, I don’t have time to discuss this today”
“So I’d like to tell you about…”
“So you’re not going to bother to listen to me then?”
“I can now confirm that your card is activated. If you’d like to hear about…”

Click, brrrrrrrr

Last week when I checked the bees I took my guru along (after sales service he called it). Hive full of bees all looking very happy and healthy, brood, egs, feed, pollen, queen etc. No signs of swarming.

Today when I checked – hive full of bees, starting to bring in some honey, pollen, capped brood, erm, no queen (not unusual – she goes for flights and sometimes just has too many attendants to spot her), but wait, no eggs either. Bugger.

A quick call to the guru confirmed what I suspected – leave the hive alone for 2 weeks and they’ll rear a new queen. Bit of a pain as it’ll set the hive back about a month and I was hoping to make a second colony with a controlled swarm, but they’ve already started raising there new monarch and with no eggs in the hive she’s unlikely to swarm, so fingers crossed.

All part of the learning curve.

Having spent last year reading up and learning from my mentor, I finally got my own hive. Brought them home in the back of the Landie (only 3 escapees) and left them to it in their new home.

Went to inspect them today and all appears to be well – Queen, brood, eggs, food and of course bees, all present and correct. Some were bringing in gorse pollen, but we’ve had a cold morning, so I was quite surprised at that. Given a bit of warmth (that we’re not forcast), I’ll be able to put a super on soon for my very first honey crop.

A very exciting time.

Friends have an allotment in a nearby town, and they very kindly let me plant my over wintering onions there when I discovered I had white rot at home. They also said I could use as much of it as I liked, but that’s never felt right to me. I’m the sort that would always ask if was OK for me to do something – which could become wearing for them, but the way I see it that’s surely better than them turning up ready to plant something out only to find I’d used the space they had earmarked.

Last week I confessed to the OH that I might ask them to let me know if a plot comes up – these things don’t come up very often and it’s only a small site.

On Saturday, I was out collecting manure with one of the aforementioned friends. He asked if I’d like an allotment, and after a few seconds of deliberation, I admitted that yes, I’re really like one. “There’s one just come up, I’ll get you the guy’s number”. Oh, OK. So maybe not next year then, maybe rather sooner.

I didn’t hold my breath, as I knew my friend had to jump through hoops to get one himself. Saturday lunchime (in between manure runs – so to speak), I gave the guy to call. Having quickly established that there was a plot available and how I’d found out about it, I asked if I could put my name forward (thinking there was probably a list of people wanting one). “It’s yours” he says. Oh, OK. Thanks. So maybe right now then!!!

I think my friends were a little miffed – they’d had a struggle to get theirs and I’d walked straight into one. Not only that, it’s a good one – fenced, with shed, the beds are edged, loads of strawberry plants, well dug, hardly a weed in sight.

I’ve already planned it out and planted my onions out. Found some old drums in the shed that I’ve now installed as waterbutts. There are some changes I’d like to make to it, but most of the major ones will be made in the autumn and winter. For now I’ll concentrate on the rowing bit and worry about the structure later.

It’s funny actually, After I had a look at it I thought “what on earth am I going to fill that with?”. Then I got home and had a look round the greenhouse. I’m careful with seed – only sowing what I need plus a bit extra for spares (I hate “pricking out” – it’s my least favorite gardening job. I’d rather do the weeding!), but this year I’ve sown far more than I’d need for the beds in the garden. Spooky!

We pay by direct debit, and had overpaid, so having told me that the “owe” us money, they very kindly stated they’d carry that over to the next statement.

If that’s not bad enough, they went on to state that they had “reviewed your account and the good news is your monthly payments do not need to change.” THE HELL THEY DON’T!!! We’ve just come through the heaviest period of electricity usage and had overpaid by a significant amout – I’d say they needed to change quite a lot.

I prepared myself for a call centre onslaught (tea, bickies, comfy chair and rubber mallet [to hit the phone with - sledge hammers tend to break phones]) and gave them a call.

After a short wait, I was connected to a very bubbly “operative” who was happy to refund my overspend, and, without prompting, offered to check if she could reduce my monthly payment. Funnily enough, she found she could – by nearly 24%.

So how come, when the bill was sent the same company thought the payments didn’t need to change I wonder?

Well shot though.

It’s a bit cooler today (and very windy) but still nice and sunny, so I decided to sort the compost out. Having worked up a nice “glow” decanting 1 cubic metre of ready to use compost into bags (for dryer storage and easier transportation), I made a start turning the half-done cubic metre into the newly vacated bay.

About a foot down, out the corner of my eye, I saw the dog looking quizically through the fence at the chooks (collies have a perculiar way of looking that means you can actually see the cogs turning). It took a while to register in my own head, but sure enough there were 3 chooks also looking quizical (a permanent state for a chook), but not at the dog. Being quite good at maths puzzles at school, I joined the dotted lines – followed the line of sight of the dog, and that of the chooks, to see where they’d cross.

X marked the spot right enough – chook number 4. Where? In the bloody veg beds of course!!!

I still can’t work out how she got there (tunnel I suspect – the request for an exercise horse should have been a clue!), but she obviously knew she wasn’t suppose to be there, as when I opened the (6 foot high) gate, she shot out. All 4 chooks then retired for a dust bath under the tree – no doubt to compare notes.

Whoever thinks chickens have very small brains are so wrong!