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…