Plants which remind you of people, contd.

Today I planted a long row of raspberry canes at the Lechlade allotment. They may not produce anything this year, but next year there'll be a bumper crop. The ancestors of these canes were given to me by Shirley three years ago in deep November, and I was astonished that they survived having their ankles in soaking wet clay over the winter. The year before last they started producing, and last year they really started to come on song. The jam made with fresh raspberries is incomparable.

I though of Shirley as I was planting them, and of how pleased she would be to hear about it.

I also planted the rhubarb plant at one end of the row of raspberries and an asparagus plant at the other end. The rhubarb plant was given me by the nice Dutch lady who used to keep Indian running ducks and other fowl on her allotment, but was driven away by a combination of the alleged nastiness of Deanna (I think it was Taffy who alleged it, so it probably is fictional) and the thieving that was going on. Oh, no, I remember - (this is what I was told by someone else anyway) (was it even about them?) - apparently, the young lad who used to cycle in to feed the ducks had left them without food or water one day, so Taffy or his son took the fowl and said that if it ever happened again they wouldn't give them back. Oh dear, you can see how confused the story has got in the memory and the re-telling.  Anyway, when she gave up, the Dutch lady gave me that rhubarb plant.

The artichokes will remind me of Joe and Angelo. In the end, they were Joe's plants, which I dug up last year and planted on my old allotment, but which I hadn't yet got a crop from. But it reminded me of a time really early on when I was on the Salvation Army allotment when I must have been talking to Angelo about having some plants, but it was Joe who gave me some (which incidentally didn't survive), and Angelo, coming along later, said, "Oh, are my plants not good enough then?"

At Lechlade, I also established my water butt next to the compost heap, and put some bricks in the bottom to stop it blowing away or being easily stolen. You never know. The last thing I did was plant some tiny marjoram plants that I'd salvaged from my own allotment. They will in time grow massive and provide lots of nectar for the bees. The strawberry plants I put in last week have already picked up and are thriving.

Dom said he had forgotten about rotovating the allotment, because his father-in-law had died and the funeral was next week, but he would bring the rotovator in on Monday and start it off for me and "watch it run away with me" before going off to do something else.

In gardening, everything takes twice as long as you think

Today was warm enough to take my jacket off while digging, though I had to put it on again for weeding. I didn't achieve much today, but Vieve's rule of gardening is that everything always takes twice as long as you think it will. First, I brought over some artichoke plants from my old allotment and divided them and planted a row at the bottom of the allotment near the path. Then I transplanted two blackcurrant bushes and one redcurrant bush from the old allotment (between them they only had about 8 berries on last year). I'd brought over the rest of the compost I made last year. It was a bit stalky but better than nowt - no time to source some manure to put in the holes, nor even to clear the weeds around them very much. Lastly, I weeded a strip near the strawberries on my hands and knees using a hand fork, and sowed a row of perpetual spinach in it. The bit between the strawberries and the raspberry canes is the only bit not rotovated, and though it doesn't look too bad it is full of little plantains with fiercely strong root systems that are the devil to get out. This was where I planned to sow all my roots and saladings, but I think I shall have to rethink that plan.

How to eat artichokes

Yesterday evening, at my Italian class, I told my teacher about Angelo giving me some artichoke plants, and she told me how the Italians eat them. She says you have to hold it in one hand throughout, and not touch the heart, because that will make it bitter. You peel off the "scales" and dip them in olive oil and eat them raw! Then the heart, and then the stem! She said the stem is very sweet.

I've only ever had tinned artichoke hearts. The first time I ate artichokes was during my first aeroplane flight, when I was flying Air France back to Nice for my second term there, when I was at University studying French. I remember being amazed at the luxury of being given artichokes for my in-flight meal.

Artichokes

I was doing my regulation digging yesterday, when Angelo came and gave me a bundle of artichoke plants. He said, "Plant them now, or if you don't, put them in water overnight." He wanted me to plant them along the outer edge of my allotment, but I said, no, it's not clean yet. They grow like weeds along the other edge, in his brother, Joe's plot, and other Italians have them too.

I was delighted with this gift. Either Angelo or Joe had promised me some artichoke plants some time ago, but I'd never got them till now. I suppose Angelo must have been thinning them out: he said they don't produce heads unless they are far enough apart, and I haven't seen any heads on the ones at the edge of my plot.

Anyway, I thought I'd plant them on the Salvation Army allotment for the time being, and went straight up there, knackered as I was, and put five in along the edge. As I was passing, Joe passed, and he said, "Oh, you take artichoke plants from my brother, eh, but not from me! If you want any more, just say." After I'd planted those six, I decided to call it a day, and brought the rest home, and put them in a watering can full of water overnight.

Today, I thought I'd plant one in the little plot outside my front door - they are very ornamental when they grow big and produce heads. More than one would swamp the plot, so I took the rest back to the SA allotment, and started clearing the space between the strawberries and the tarpaulin they've put down. Officially, my half of the plot ends between the two rows of strawberries, but as they left that scrap to go wild, and didn't even eat the strawberries or the broad beans that I so kindly donated to them, I am taking it back, and planting a hedge of artichokes between us. (They'll probably dig them up, out of ignorance).