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I first came across the term “hügelkultur” during an internet search on a gardening topic. This time, for once, my interest wasn’t sparked by a book. Basically, it involves growing vegetables on a compost heap with a base formed by a pile of logs. The idea is an interesting one, although I should stress that I have no personal knowledge of how well it works, as I have never seen one in action and it isn’t suitable for my own garden. Although frequently referred to as an ‘ancient technique’ in Europe there seem to be no references to either documentary or archaeological evidence for hugelkultur earlier than 1962. If anybody has any such references, I would be interested to hear them.

The word ‘hügelkultur’ is German for ‘mound cultivation’. It refers to building a raised bed on a base of logs, filled in with small twigs and bark, and covered with layers of straw, compost, grass clippings, dead leaves, chicken bedding etc and finally topsoil, in which you plant your vegetables. You can either build it freestanding i.e. completely above ground level, or sunk in a trench, or partly sunk. Some are gently sloping, some have almost vertical sides. As the logs rot and the various layers of leaves etc. compost down, a rich soil is produced. The porous logs retain moisture efficiently so the bed needs less watering than conventional beds, but it doesn’t become waterlogged. The slowly decomposing organic matter provides a slow release supply of nutrients. It doesn’t need digging over, so the soil structure remains undisturbed and it is expected to be rich in soil bacteria, fungal mycelia etc. It’s a good way to recycle organic waste into compost, and it is very much part of the permaculture movement, in that it is supposed to take care of itself and produce food for years. 

It is generally admitted to have some disadvantages. A certain amount of heavy labour is needed to set up, digging up the turf and moving logs into position, and you need to leave it for a year or so to become established. It doesn’t last forever and needs to be rebuilt entirely after five or six years. The bed slowly subsides as the compost material rots down, so planting fruit trees and bushes on top is not really practical. You need a source of logs (bark chippings alone won’t do) and a good deal of compostable materials to start it off with. Areas like Orkney and Shetland, with very few trees would have a problem. I am not sure that driftwood well-soaked with salt, or conifers full of resin, would really make a good base for a compost heap.  Holes will appear as the underlying logs rot down, which will need to be filled in with small stuff. It is also said to be an attractive habitat for rats. And you need a large enough plot of land. There is something scientific about wood needing extra nitrogen as it starts to rot; I have no idea whether this is really likely to have a significant effect in a garden bed or whether it is of purely academic interest.

Not everybody supports the method. An article written by an urban horticulturist and associate professor at Washington State University argues that ordinary raised beds are a better option and that the logs would be better used on the surface, as ‘nurse logs’ for wildlife, standing around the garden, or made into chippings for mulches.

An interesting side effect of my researches on this particular topic was that it brought my attention to the way my preferred search engine works and its AI summary is produced. My background research this time relied entirely on the internet, since the method doesn’t appear in any of the books I have got hold of. At one point I noticed that the sites that usually appear when I search on gardening topics, such as the RHS, Henry Doubleday, and various sites run by universities or botanic gardens, did not come up this time. Even Wikipedia was only on the second page. Instead, I got hardly anything except blogs from ‘alternative’ groups or individuals. I have no objection to druids and some of them did look practical, but I like to have a more orthodox point of view as well. When I did find Wiki and some of the blogs dealing with the disadvantages of hügelkultur, they stated that there have been no properly-designed scientific studies on whether it actually works.

I asked about how AI works at present, and it turns out that it relies on the sites which come up most frequently and which attract the attention of search engines most efficiently. It has no way at the moment to assess the reliability or the academic standards of its sources. The AI designers are well aware of this, and you can find out about it if you ask, but it is not immediately obvious to the casual user, or at least not to one of my age. In some ways this can be a good way of avoiding censorship on the internet, and it hardly matters if you are building a raised bed on top of a log pile, but it does mean that I would not like to bet on how well this technique works without trying it myself or visiting a garden where it has been used.

So, am I going to try building myself a hügel? No. It sounds as if it might be suitable for some environments, but Orkney has (a) an abundance of fertile agricultural soil and (b) a serious lack of trees. And I only have a small garden. I shall stick to tiny raised beds and containers and composting my kitchen waste. But I would like to see one in action.

I was wandering around Waterstones bookshop on a visit to Cambridge last month when my eye fell on a copy of Martin Crawford’s book “How to Grow Perennial Vegetables” (2012). It was the words “low-maintenance” on the front cover which attracted my attention. Ever one to save effort where possible, I bought it. And developed my latest craze.

Perennial vegetables and fruits can be defined as edible plants that live for at least three years and can be harvested without killing the whole plant. Some plants are perennial in warm climates, but not in cooler ones, therefore do not count as perennials in Europe.  Many perennial vegetables we don’t usually hear of are an important part of diets around the world, for example the ulluco  (Ullucus tuberosus), a root crop apparently second in importance only to the potato in the Andes.

Perennials are said to contain more nutrients on average than annual vegetables, and to be better for the environment since you don’t have to disturb the soil so often, although you do have to get rid of weeds as soon as possible. Since they are usually allowed to flower, they are good for pollinating insects, which are currently under threat. Harvesting tends to extend over a longer period of the year, so they are useful during the traditional ‘hungry gap’ in spring, when you have used up your stored crops but the new ones are not yet producing anything. The root system of perennials is ready to start growing in early spring, so it makes the best use of a short growing season.

They do have some disadvantages, especially for large-scale commercial growers. They are harder to weed around by chemical or mechanized means. Crop yields are lower, since the vegetable has to use some of its energy keeping its root system going for next year, and they take longer to establish. And they are just as prone to diseases like club root as annuals, which is why I am regretfully not going to try any of the perennial cabbages, although they sound great (my main bed is infected with clubroot). The fact that they are not rotated like annual crops, but remain in the same bed for years can make this problem worse. 

The commonest perennial vegetables currently grown in Orkney are rhubarb and globe artichoke, and soft fruits like currants, gooseberries and berries. Most gardeners up here grow rhubarb, and if you don’t, there are often feral rhubarb plants available, like the ones at a beach near me. (It’s a pity that I can’t eat rhubarb any more myself).  I recently visited a garden on Hoy where they have planted asparagus. I have a sorrel plant which is fast becoming established and producing useful quantities of leaves. A local grocer was selling ramsons (wild garlic) in pots this spring, so I bought one.  

Watercress (Nasturtium officinale) is also worth trying. Apparently you do not need a fast-running stream to grow watercress; you can grow it in a container and keep the compost moist by standing it in a saucer full of water. The saucer needs to be emptied and the pot flushed through with clean water periodically to keep it fresh. That's also a good idea from the midge point of view as well. They breed in stagnant water and they don't need much encouragement up here.   You can grow watercress from seed, or you can do what I have done. Next time you buy a bunch, put some sprigs in a jar of water on the windowsill. Hopefully it will grow little roots in a week as mint does, and can then be planted out.   

The various blogs about perennial vegetables which have appeared in recent years also mention wild plants usually regarded as weeds. My garden, like everybody else’s, goes yellow with dandelions in early summer. I have no objection to eating dandelion leaves in salad or young nettle tops in soup. I can’t be bothered with Good King Henry, though. As a young archaeologist, I naturally tried a variety of wild greens such Good King Henry and Fat Hen and found them stringy and just tasting vaguely of greens, while ground elder I found had a positively objectionable tang.

Silverweed (Potentilla anserina) grows prolifically in Orkney and the thin roots were used as a famine food in the past.  The roots are small and spindly in the wild and it takes a lot of effort to collect enough for a meal (Milliken & Bridgewater 2013 pages 47-49).  However, F. Marian McNeill (2010, page 229) quotes Alexander Carmichael (Carmina Gadelica Vol. IV) as recording that before the introduction of potatoes, silverweed was cultivated in the Highlands and Islands and grew quite large. It was sometimes boiled, or sometimes the ground-up roots were made into porridge or bread.  She gives a recipe for Silverweed Bannock which is not a famine recipe. You are supposed to go over a ploughed field in spring to collect the long thin white roots, dry them and grind them up, and then make a bannock by mixing them with oat or barley meal, butter and warm milk and cooking them like a scone or an oatcake. It is said to taste nice but not as if it has much potential as a future staple crop.

What I am going to try next is skirret (Sium sisarum), known as crummock or crumag (Gaelic) in Scotland. I have bought two plants from a fascinating small firm in Devon. Skirret is a root crop with a sweet taste something between a carrot and a parsnip. Various European countries know it under the name of sugar root because of its sweetness.  It seems to be very popular at the moment and it does seem to have interesting possibilities. It doesn’t mind a cold climate and grows well in Britain and Northern Europe; it is resistant to disease, although it grows fibrous if it doesn’t get enough water.

 Skirret originated in China and was introduced to Britain by the Romans. It was cultivated thereafter for centuries. The 14^th  century English recipe collection known as the ‘Forme of Curye’ gives a recipe for fritters made of parsnips (‘pasternakes’), skirrets (the spelling varies wildly)and apples: these are dipped in batter made of flour, eggs, ale, saffron and salt and fried in oil or ‘grece’. They were served with almond milk. (I am going to try that one). Skirrets were a favourite in Tudor and Stuart times, and were planted in the royal kitchen gardens laid out by Queen Anne in 1702 at Hampton Court Palace. According to Geddes (1994, page 37), the recipe book of Katharine Bruce, Lady Saltoun, married to a late 17^th century Scottish laird, has a recipe for boiled chicken stuffed with parsley and surrounded by vegetables such as boiled artichoke hearts or skirrets in a sauce. Skirrets were being grown in Shetland gardens by the end of the 17^th century (Fenton (1978 page 421). But by the late 17^th century, potatoes were being grown in Britain in significant quantities. Potatoes are easier to peel, as skirret roots are long, thin and uneven, and they are easier to harvest industrially. Sugar was more widely available too, so the sweet taste was less important. The skirret gradually fell out of fashion.

Perennial vegetables are not totally labour-free. You still need to weed them, feed them, and keep them well-watered, especially if you are growing them in containers or a restricted space like a small raised bed. I seem to have spent most of my garden time this summer, which has been unusually dry in Orkney, pouring water onto my vegetables. My water butt has run dry twice. And I won't know until next summer whether my artichokes, skirrets and watercress are going to survive and produce an edible crop, whereas this year's potatoes have been great, in spite of the drought. We'll just have to see….

F. Marian McNeill 2010 “The Scots Kitchen. Its Traditions and Lore with Old-Time Recipes”

William Milliken & Sam Bridgewater  2013 “Flora Celtica. Plants and People in Scotland”

Alexander Fenton 1978 “The Northern Isles: Orkney and Shetland”

Olive M. Geddes  1994 “The Laird’s Kitchen. Three hundred Years of Food in Scotland”

2025 has been an extraordinary summer. I went south to the London area to visit friends and family, and I have never experienced such conditions since I was working in Greece and the Middle East fifty years ago. Temperatures were over 30 degrees C. Everywhere I went, green lawns were burnt to a crisp, and we had to carry water bottles, and stay indoors during the midday hours. The effects of global warming have become starkly clear. Orkney hasn’t been so badly affected, but we have still had long periods when temperatures were over 20 degrees C and our gardens needed a lot of watering. So am I going to start planting olives and lavender? I don’t think so. Because global warming may well affect the Gulf Stream, which is a major factor in the Scottish climate.

The Gulf Stream is a warm surface current which flows from the Gulf of Mexico, up the east coast of America, to the North Atlantic and Northwest Europe. The north-eastern extension of the Gulf Stream is known as the North Atlantic Current, the North Atlantic Drift or the North Atlantic Sea Movement. It is this part of the Gulf Stream which reaches Britain. The warmth it brings keeps temperatures in NW Europe higher than they would otherwise be at these latitudes.  It is the reason why palm trees will grow on the west coast of Scotland at places like Inverewe in Wester Ross, and why Orkney, at latitude 59 degrees north, has a cool mild climate rather than a cold one.

The density of the water is important as well as its warmth. This depends on its salinity as well as its temperature. When it reaches the Arctic, the water of the Gulf Stream has cooled and become saltier, so it sinks below the surface and flows south again as a cooler deep-water current. This circulation around the Atlantic is known as the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation or AMOC. Global warming means that not only is the ocean warming up, but the Arctic and Greenland ice sheets are melting, releasing huge amounts of fresh water into the ocean and reducing the salinity of the northern Atlantic. The AMOC is already slowing down and eventually is likely to slow down significantly even if it does not stop entirely. If this happens, NW Europe, including the whole of Britain, may well become colder and stormier, although it is also argued that the effect of general global warming may to some extent compensate for this. There appear to be different estimates of how much colder and how soon this is likely to happen. But it could happen relatively quickly.

It has happened before. At the end of the last Ice Age, the planet was gradually warming up. But from around 12,500 until 11,500 years ago, i.e. a period of about 1,000 years, there was an abrupt return to very cold conditions in the Northern Hemisphere. The Southern Hemisphere grew warmer at the same time. Within a few decades the annual air temperatures in Europe dropped by 2-6 degrees centigrade, mainly in the winter. This cold period is known as the Younger Dryas, named after the flower ‘Dryas octopetala’ which flourishes in these conditions. Various causes have been suggested. These include a meteor impact, but it is considered more likely that it was the effect of a large amount of fresh water suddenly entering the North Atlantic as the ice in North America melted. This altered the salinity of the ocean, slowing down the currents which transport heat from the South to the North Atlantic.

Orkney currently has a temperate oceanic climate, with mild winters, very little snow, short cool summers, strong winds and comparatively high rainfall all year round. Both cereals and vegetables grow well in Orkney, although cereal crops are at risk from the short growing season and from damage by the strong winds. Bere barley and oats are the traditional grains. The various islands in the Orkney archipelago differ slightly in what does best.  Low said in the late 18^th century of South Ronaldsay: “The corns of this island are generally late in ripening, and the crop rather precarious when the season proves broken and the harvest rainy; however this is not so much the case but this furnishes vast quantities of meal and malt even in years when many of the other isles are but poorly off in this respect, so that in general they can spare more grain than any other of the S. Isles in proportion to the bulk of their island and extent of arable land.” (Low 1774 pages 24-25). In the past, Orkney and Shetland traded extensively with Norway, exchanging grain and malt for timber.

The Old Statistical Account, also compiled in the 18^th century, records much the same vegetables as today growing in Orkney:   “…in the account for the parish of Birsay and Harray, Orkney: ‘The gardens will produce early cabbage and colliflower; as also onions, leeks, garlick, parsnips, carrots, turnips, and small salad herbs…’ This minister is probably writing about his own garden.”(Maisie Steven 1995 page 37); while Low remarks that “… in no place do potatoes thrive better than here [South Ronaldsay], ” (Low 1774 page 49-50).

If the Gulf Stream does shut down completely because of global warming, Orkney may end up with a different kind of climate, at worst subarctic/boreal (Dfc), similar to present-day Tromso in north Norway, which lies at 69 degrees north, i.e. 350 km north of the Arctic Circle. In other words, things would get significantly colder in these latitudes, perhaps up to 5 degrees colder, especially in winter.

That’s not to say we won’t be able to grow anything without a solar-powered greenhouse. I have stated my concerns about hi-tech indoor gardening in a politically unstable world elsewhere. Overpopulation, as well as the climate crisis, means that there certainly won’t be enough agricultural land available to feed everyone, so things like vertical farms will have to be tried. But it would probably be a good idea to grow as much food as we can without the help of technology. Fortunately, that seems to be possible. The Financial Times published an article on ‘Arctic Gardening’ in November 2024. Their photo of a woman with handfuls of carrots, standing against a background of abundant cabbage and parsley, grown in the Lofoten Islands (Norway, 68-69 degrees north) was impressive. This woman mentions growing kale, pak choi, green beans, parsnips and strawberries. She recommends sowing outdoors so that the plants have an opportunity to adapt to outdoor conditions. Another contributor recommends growing perennials because their root system is already established when the short growing season starts. The usual techniques are mentioned: drainage, planting windbreaks and using south-facing exposures. Potatoes were mentioned later on. Barley will grow in these regions although the short growing season is a problem.

So it can be done. But thinking ahead, a greenhouse might be a better investment in Orkney than a grapevine…

“A Tour thro’ Orkney and Schetland in 1774”, George Low

“Parish Life in Eighteenth-Century Scotland: A Review of the Old Statistical Account”, Maisie Steven 1995 

Heatwave in Scotland

Water shortage in Scotland? Too much sunlight? No, I’m not joking. Having restrained myself from planting out my seedlings in March and April, until the risk of snow had passed, I then had to cope with scorching sunlight and drought in May. I quickly used up the contents of my water butt, and started saving washing-up water for the flowers containers in the front garden. As I lugged yet another watering-can from the kitchen sink round the back of my house to keep the potatoes going, I decided that I might need to reduce the area of my raised beds a little next year. And every afternoon as the sun came round, I had to move the seed trays off the back windowsill because the double-glazing concentrates the sunlight so effectively that they were getting too hot. We’re back to normal again now, of course.

It’s weird to have to cope with hot dry weather, when you are set up to mitigate the effects of not enough sun and too much rain. Still, I suppose our usual experience will come in handy when global warming reaches the point when the Gulf Stream shuts down. Orkney will probably end up a much colder place…

Artichokes, just like 19^th century Kirkwall

As I mentioned in my post of March 12^th, Patrick Neill, in his “A Tour through some of the islands of Orkney and Shetland” 1806, (pp 6-.7), visited Kirkwall and recorded that “In all the gardens which we had an opportunity of seeing at Kirkwall, artichokes were growing with uncommon luxuriance…”   Maisie Stevens’ book “Parish Life in Eighteenth-century Scotland” (1995), based on the Old Statistical Account  compiled between 1791 and 1799 by Sir John Sinclair, also mentions artichokes (page 39). She noted that artichokes were flourishing in gardens in the parish of Orphir: “Cabbages and garden roots grow in great perfection; and perhaps the finest and largest artichokes in the world are to be found in this country, in the common kail-yards, springing up amongst the grass without any cultivation.”

Globe artichokes still grow in one of the allotments beside Victoria Road in the centre of Kirkwall. I am very fond of them, and we only seem to get them in tins in Orkney. So when I saw some artichoke plants for sale in the local garden centre, I decided to try them. So far, so good….

Sawfly

Following my disaster with the strawberry plants, I decided to try some different fruit this year. Anyway, all but one of the strawberry plants died during the winter. So I invested in a healthy-looking gooseberry bush, placed it in the sunniest spot and watered it carefully. At first all went well. Lots of tiny fruits appeared all over the branches. Alas! Disaster soon struck. To begin with, all the leaves at the end of each branch crumpled up in a most peculiar way. An internet search suggested a number of causes, including too much or too little water and various aphids and mildews. I couldn’t identify which it was likely to be, so I just cut the affected leaves off and hoped for the best. Next thing I knew, every single leaf had disappeared, leaving just the bare branches with their tiny fruits. Almost certainly sawfly larvae, although I didn’t notice in time to actually catch them at it. I don’t seem to have much luck with fruit.

Self-seeded crops

I mentioned in a previous post (5^th December 2024) that during WWII, gardeners who were ‘Digging For Victory’ were encouraged to leave some of their vegetables to go to seed, so as to have their own seeds for next year. Seeds were not rationed but they were in short supply at times. According to a recent blog post, at one point in 1942 the famous Suttons Seed company  “had run out of runner beans, onions, leeks, cress and early potatoes and that orders could not be delivered in under 3 weeks”. The government gave advice on which plants were suitable for home seed saving, and how and when to do it. Good job there weren’t any terminator genes around at that point – we might have lost the war!

My nasturtiums and marigolds, both annuals which I grow as companion plants, have always seeded themselves. When I saw my parsley (biennial) vigorously sprouting seed heads, I decided to try saving seed this year as an experiment. Apparently, you have to let the plant flower and leave the seed heads to dry out and turn brown. Then you snip them off and collect them in paper bags to finish drying for up to a fortnight. When they are completely dry, you can rub the husks off the seeds before bagging them for storage. But Nature got ahead of me, and I discovered that it had seeded itself and was surrounded by new little plants. Much satisfaction. I’m also very fond of parsley.

Since I now have more parsley than I can expect to eat before autumn, I have tried freezing some, using a recipe I found online. Apparently frozen parsley taste better than dried parsley, although it loses its texture and can’t be used as a garnish. I rinsed the parsley without chopping it, patted it dry and double-bagged it in two plastic bags, rolling them up to exclude the air before putting them in the freezer. Results to be reported!

How to dry apples

Preserving fruit and vegetables for the winter is just as important as growing them. It is a skill that all housewives had to learn before the days of supermarkets and freezers.  I am interested in methods of preservation that don’t involve large quantities of sugar or salt, or high-tech solutions such as freezers. I decided that I would try drying apple slices this year. I have successfully dried herbs before, hanging them in paper bags or old nylons in the airing cupboard. After a short internet search, I sliced a large unblemished apple very thinly, dried off the slices with some kitchen paper and then put them into the oven on a lightly-oiled baking sheet for two hours. They came out sweet and chewy.

Most of the internet recipes recommended dipping them in dilute lemon juice first to stop them browning, which I didn’t bother with, and cooking them at a higher temperature than I did, i.e. nearly 200 degrees C. Fiona Houston in her book “The Garden Cottage Diaries: My Year in the Eighteenth Century” (p 85) recommends dipping them in a dilute salt solution, both to prevent browning and to discourage surface mould. Using her method they are supposed to be hung up to dry very slowly for 24 to 48 hours over a heat source. This is really only a possibility if you have an Aga or Rayburn stove which is permanently hot. Alas, like most modern homes in Orkney, I’m all-electric. Ruth Goodman, in the Wartime Farm book (“Wartime Farm” Peter Ginn, Ruth Goodman, Alex Langlands 2012,  p126) also recommends dipping them in salt solution and drying them slowly. Her preferred locations for drying are a greenhouse, or hung up halfway up the stairs with the window open, then finished off packed in paper bags. Orkney homes are notoriously damp, with many people having to keep a dehumidifier running a lot of the time, so that method doesn’t seem too practical either. Although the strong winds up here are notably efficient at drying washing, freshly-caught fish, and pottery awaiting firing, even on cold grey days.

I’m not sure that my apple slices came out of the oven dry enough to keep for months, but I have put them into a brown paper bag in the airing cupboard.  We shall see.

The season continues…

Growing fruit and vegetables in very tiny spaces has become very popular recently. Whether you are interested in food security or “wellness”, it has become a trending topic.  I currently have three fascinating books on the subject (see below).  All these books tell you how to construct a raised bed, prepare the soil, and suggest a succession of plants that go well together and will provide vegetables all year round. Two of them suggest a raised bed 1m square i.e. 3 feet square, the third a slightly larger bed, 3m x 1.2m i.e. 10 x 4 feet. I find the concept interesting. You might call it “micro-market-gardening”.

It is easy to see why this has become popular. Too many people now live in houses and flats with hardly any garden space. Many people have very busy lives, with a lot of commitments and no time to dig and weed. We have an aging population. Lots of people don’t have the physical ability to cultivate an allotment, even if they could get one. Digging with fork and spade is quite difficult if you are 90 years old or waiting for a hip replacement. Furthermore, there are long waiting lists for allotments in Britain. Land is in short supply and demand is high. In fact, councils are currently experimenting with dividing the standard 250-300m² allotment into half, quarter, or even smaller sizes.

Obviously, growing food in tiny raised beds and containers is not going to feed the average household, or even one person. Lolo Houbein (page 74) suggests that you could grow one tenth of your vegetables in a one-metre square plot, although this seems a little optimistic to me, especially in the north of Britain. And she reports (page 76) that unspecified  “scientists” have calculated that one person needs a 10 x 10 metre plot to grow all their own food, including staple carbohydrates, and a family of four would need a 20 x20 metre plot. Whether you agree with this or not, I would guess that every little helps. As in World War II, you probably can’t grow enough wheat and potatoes in your garden to make any serious difference, but you can grow a useful amount of veggies. Besides, it’s fun.

Since I got old and decrepit, I have confined my vegetable cultivation to containers and very small raised beds. They probably add up to about 3 square metres of growing space. I use three cheap little fabric raised beds, which are supposed to survive for about ten years, a couple of potato bags and four large-ish flowerpots. I fill them with a mixture of bought compost from the local garden centre, and free compost, which Orkney Island Council gives away at the local recycling centre. Well done them, and many thanks to the very kind attendant who helped me fill my bags and get them into my car. I have managed to grow quite a useful amount of fresh fruit and vegetables in them.

If you are using containers or very small raised beds, you need to water frequently, and maintain the fertility of the soil. The two most important pieces of equipment I have found, apart from the beds themselves, are a compost heap and a water butt. The best thing of all is the small compost bin which now lives beside the kitchen sink, so that I have no excuse for not saving all my vegetable peelings. I saw some lovely water butts in France this Easter, shaped vaguely like a classical pithos (storage jar)…

Raised beds and containers of any shape are easier to position to capture light and warmth. The soil will warm up more quickly in spring and drain more quickly if there is a lot of rain. Which there often is in Scotland. They don’t need a lot of heavy digging; they are easier to weed; they are easier to protect from birds and cats (with a piece of netting); and wind (with a moveable windbreak). Slugs are still a problem, but for containers, I have found that if you can fill them with absolutely fresh compost, smear Vaseline around the rims, and make sure that none of the vegetables droop over the edge as far as the ground, the slugs can’t reach them.

Plants need light as well as warmth, and if you are growing as much food as possible in a 1m square bed, the plants are supposed to be packed close together, with low-growing plants arranged below taller ones. Singapore (see previous post) lies almost on the Equator and therefore receives massive amounts of sunlight, so it is possible to grow a lot of plants in a small space, as in an equatorial jungle. ‘Allotments’ in Singapore are raised beds 2m x 1m, as compared to 250 square metres in the UK.  Since we have much lower light levels in Britain, especially in the north of Scotland, we are unlikely to be able to plant as densely or to grow as much in a small space. It is important to site your beds and containers to get as much light as possible and use any available wall to reflect heat as well as provide shelter from wind. This is much easier to do if you are using containers and raised beds.

Most of my containers are against the back wall of my house, the position which gets the most sunlight, and where during the night the wall can radiate back the heat it has absorbed during the day. I like the idea of laying a sheet of black plastic over your bed in late winter/early spring, to help the soil warm up more quickly at the start of the growing season. Black surfaces absorb more heat than light-coloured ones. All of my fabric raised beds are dark coloured. Although my garden is a little small for a greenhouse, I’m thinking of getting a small cold frame.

In Britain, again as opposed to the Equator, there are distinct growing seasons, and in the north of Scotland they are very short ones. At the beginning of March this year, the weather was so sunny and warm that I was sorely tempted to start planting. I’m glad I didn’t, because the next week it was snowing.  This isn’t unusual for Orkney. I have been re-reading the diary of Patrick Fea, who farmed the lands at Stove at the south end of the island of Sanday in the 18^th century. He recorded the weather at the start of every day’s entry and frequently mentioned snow in March and April.  By the beginning of May things had only just started growing.

I have a small sunny garden to grow things in, but that isn’t actually necessary for micro-market gardening. Nowadays the internet is full of blogs and websites about growing useful quantities of herbs and vegetables in pots on balconies or windowsills or rooftops, in various kinds of planters attached to walls, or climbing up trellises. My personal favourite is “Vertical Veg”.

So if you have the odd 10 minutes to spare, and a container of some sort, grow some lettuce!

“One Magic Square: Grow your own food on one square metre” Lolo Houbein 2015

“Grow all you can eat in 3 square feet: inventive ideas for growing food in a small space” Dorling Kindersley 2015

“Veg in one bed: How to grow an abundance of food in one raised bed, month by month” Huw Richards 2019.

 “The Diary of Patrick Fea of Stove, Orkney, 1766 – 96”, transcribed and edited by W.S.Hewison; foreword by Alexander Fenton