That time of year again when blog posts become scarce. All the usually gardening and poultry tasks to be attended to, plus the allotment and bees to see to. Been thrown some curved balls by the weather too to deal with. There’s quite a bit of other “stuff” going on too round here at the moment just to keep us on our toes.

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.

Had a few new arrivals on Friday night – hundreds (possibly thousands, but probably not yet) of honey bees.

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.

I used to have an allotment – actually, I’ve had 2, but not at the same time. For a while now I’ve been missing having one – I miss the banter, I miss excitement of seeing how it’s doing, I miss showing it off to people, I miss the ritual of “going down the plot” and I miss the escape.

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!

Just had the electricity bill in.

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?

that felt seasick watching “The Boat that Rocked”?

Well shot though.

…but I still don’t believe it!!!

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!

[Well, nearly there, but "Nearly finished at last" didn't sound as good]

Having started work on the re-arranging of the veg beds late last year, I’m please to report significant progress.

I started with 3 beds – 4ft x 12ft and then work commenced:

Work started, with the bed on the right already dug out

By day 3, I’d already reached this stage:

All beds dug into one large one, with post in place and fencing started.

Then rain stopped play… along with snow, heavy frost, more snow, more rain, more frost, a holiday, oh yes, and that other little thing called work.

But, with recent good weather and a renewed spirit from the holiday, we now have this:

And from another angle:

There’s a bit too much exposed soil there for my liking, but hopefully that will be rectified this weekend by the addition of some mulch and manure and some plants – I have broad beans up and ready to go in.

The chooks didn’t seem over impressed, but were happy to watch and snack on the freshly dug weeds – though I’m sure I caught them furtling away at a plan to break IN to the new Fort Knox

I’m not usually one to hit the sales – having a pathological loathing of crowds, walking at snail’s pace, rummaging and a health scepticism about “was” prices doesn’t usually add up to it being a pleasant experience. However, I’ve recently lost some weight which has meant I’ve dropped a dress size for the first time ever (i.e. since I went from an age size to a dress size) and decided to see if I could treat myself to a couple of things that actually fit.

To my surprise I found a number of tops which I really liked, but there was one snag – none of them were in my new size, but ironically I could have had any of them in my old size.

Oh well, never mind. I’ve put that much weight on over Christmas (owing to it being spent with Mother and not Fell walking as I’d have preferred) I might soon be able to find something in my size!

…cutest carrot goes to…

The Cuddle:

While I waited for the frost to clear this morning and possibly inspired by the fact the new series of Time Team starts on Sunday, I decided to excavate Carrot Fort Knox. I’m not a great carrot grower – always had too much trouble with carrot root fly – and owing the enforced chicken defenses this season, they’d not been properly thinned or weeded, so my hopes weren’t high. They had been covered in fleece though, so the fly wasn’t a problem.

I’ve been picking carrots as required since the summer (when my early started grown-in-tubs supply ran out) and had some decent sized ones, including a bit of a monster yesterday. None, it has to be said, could have prepared me for this:

It may not be a world record, but it’s certainly the biggest carrot I’ve ever grown!