A long, hot September which saw us travel to Galicia and northern Portugal for 10 days of mostly camping. The dogs, chooks and house were all looked after by a marvellous couple and meant a stress free trip. However, there’s rather a shadow at the end of this month as we have just said goodbye to our neighbour and friend Luis. He was taken to hospital on Friday but didn’t make it. The funeral was today. We also learnt that his wife, Laurinda, will not be staying on alone in the house and that it will be sold. It is all incredibly sad news for us. Nicer neighbours you could not wish for, Luis was always ready to help us, and to see their house lie empty will be heartbreaking. So here, in memory, are a couple of photos of just some of the many times when they were there to give a willing hand:
Our first olive harvest was a great success thanks to Luis. He kindly sold us his machine last year as he was no longer able to pick his olives.
And Laurinda was there to help for our first killing of the roasties. Goodbye, dear friends.
We learnt a new word in Portuguese today. The news was talking about the weather and referred to it as ioiô. Yes, yo-yo. Indeed very high and very low. Richard’s weather station, if I remember correctly, measured over 44C, a new record for us. That was at the start of the month, out of nowhere it seemed this scorching heat that kept us indoors, the fan full blast and the duvet kicked to the floor. Either side of that, however, cooler temperatures, misty mornings and a feel of autumn in the air. It’s settled a bit since then: the last few days have been just a normal ‘hot’, but it’s still a bit chilly first thing.
So, says Richard, what on earth happened in August?
Well, it seems we found ourselves collecting elderberries from a friend’s tree; these were turned into liqueur, jam and cordial. We said a tearful goodbye to Spot the dog although Betty was less upset. A play fellow he turned out to be but in the end Betty is The Boss and little Spotty was sometimes getting far too much attention. Somehow, he ended up sleeping on the bed each night…
The house smelled of tomatoes:
Everyday a batch would picked to be roasted. These were then frozen or, if they were Italian plum tomatoes, whizzed in the mouli for passata. And we are having endless salads, the yellow ones making a colourful addition. And many of the cherry toms have been sun dried. The peppers are eventually doing their thing:
Little Chick is over 7 weeks old. Richard is particularly unpleasant about our latest feathered friend. He thinks it’s growing far too slowly and should up its game. I remind him that, although the ducks and ‘roasties’ are ready for the chop at this age that is really not natural. They have been bred to put on so much weight so quickly that anyone foolish enough to keep a roastie alive for too long would realise, with some horror, that it can no longer stand, its weight far too heavy for its legs. Little Chick is growing at a normal speed. We still have no idea yet if it’s destined for the pot or not…
And yes, there has been more time to experiment with the dyeing. Hurrah!
In fact, so much time has been spent on dyeing there is an embarrassing pile of colourful skeins mounting up. Luckily I have hatched a plot with a friend of mine to have a stall at a local market where I’m hoping to sell some (and she her every growing bundle of knitted toys and dolls).
So a strange, unsettling summer in many ways. Despite the huge fire in Monchique we have yet to see one single plume of smoke, quite bizarre after last year’s catastrophe. But a welcome change that’s for sure. For Jussi, autumn can’t come fast enough:
Our collection of animals has expanded, albeit temporarily. First up is Spot the dog who is staying for a few weeks while his real family are swanning around the Isle of Man:
Observant readers will notice that Richard is enjoying two hobbies at one time ie reading about brewing beer and drinking his own at the same time. There is also a tub of something bubbling in the man cave (‘Don’t touch!’) which he fusses over while licking his lips.
Next up is the little chick. When we got back from Sintra our grey hen Hattie became broody. After a few weeks of not being able to shake her out of it we decided to take advantage instead and, thanks to people we know who have hens and a cockerel, slipped some eggs under her without knowing if these were fertilized or not. Her patience was rewarded with a little chick (actually 2 of the eggs hatched but alas one was squashed) who, now almost 3 weeks old, is the cutest thing on two spindly, and slightly feathery, legs.
Temporary? I hear you cry. Well, it depends. If little chick is male, yes (Richard has a great coq au vin recipe). If little chick is female she’ll become one of the girls. (That’s if the lurking ladder snake doesn’t get it first).
Jussi meanwhile is now the eldest in the household having celebrated her 10th birthday (making her 70):
Richard has been badgering me to update the blog about the veg patch which I must admit I have been putting off. I’m afraid there is a feeling of despondency as I wander round the beds. The wet spring and crappy July weather (I have failed to understand how the whole world seems to be having a heatwave and yet here in Portugal we’ve had grey, cold, misty days with never a forecast reaching 30 let alone the temperatures of over 40 last year – which I am not missing I hasten to add) hasn’t helped but I’m not blaming the weather. The problem is a growing one that has got worse and worse, creeping through the plants, climbing and devouring all in it’s way: yep, the veg patch is riddled with bindweed. It was quite bad last year but now there is an invasion. I try to use the ‘no-dig method’: firstly come the winter the beds are covered in a thick mulch of compost and leaves, usually over a layer of cardboard or newspapers, which is slowly broken down by the worms (and therefore doesn’t need ‘digging over’). Then this is repeated once the new seedlings go in to keep the soil moist and prevent the weeds coming through. But nothing stops the bindweed. Whilst weeding the spring beds before applying the new mulch I can hear their roots being torn. One small section takes simply ages to clear and as these roots go down at least 3m it’s actually impossible to get rid of. Any broken roots multiply into new plants; so hence the sense of despair.
Despite this there is still stuff growing that has combatted the cold and battled the bindweed. The kitchen is full of bowls of tomatoes, some to be roasted, some to be made into passata, some to have in salads and some to be dried. We have had the first aubergine, all of the sweetcorn and many runner beans. And a feast of courgettes: in cake, stuffed, in ratatouille, in salads, barbecued… in fact I don’t think a day passes without some courgette being eaten in some guise or another. The strawberries are great and we try to get the raspberries before the birds.
So the last day of July, and the last day of the cooler weather. Temperatures are set to rocket from tomorrow so time to enjoy the pleasant evening sunshine and join Richard with one of his homemade tipples.
We are getting to the nicest time of the year. A tad later this year than normal but getting there. Jussi is less keen on the warmer months. She’s smiling in this photo because, yet again, black clouds are on the horizon and if she’s lucky there’ll be some puddles on her walk tomorrow.
Walking around the garden admiring the colours has reminded me I have been meaning to do a blog post about where many of our plants have come from. We have, of course, bought plenty over the years but there are also a significant number that we’ve got free, one way or another. Most have been cuttings but this post is about those grown from seed. First up the poppies. The Oriental poppy seeds were (I have to admit) stolen from a botanical garden, I snapped off a dried head and before I knew it had popped it into my handbag… The Californian poppy seeds were taken from a campsite we stayed in.
The Antirrhinum, or snapdragon, seeds were taken from the field next door. They’re mostly a pinky colour but there was one a few summers ago which was a striking purple. I earmarked the plant and collected the seeds later in the autumn. The photo makes it look more pink than it is. And then, on a holiday in the south, I came across this tall plant in a patch of wasteland by the motorway service station. It looked like it had had orange flowers. Sowing the seeds the following spring I realised it was in fact an Evening primrose, the flowers come out every evening (you can watch them opening) and come the next day have died and turned orange. Plants that seem to survive in the wild without watering are perfect for the garden.
Next up some flowers seeds given to me some time ago by friends which have self seeded. The white Honesty has come up around the pond and looks charming, the blue Nigella is just stunning (although fewer this year it has to be said as Richard is rather cavalier with the strimmer which is why there are no pics of the Chamomile daisies…)
At the end of the summer we get two that seem happier in the shade: the deep pink Mirabilis jalapa grow in the village (although some seeds from a yellow flowered variety I took from Spain never germinated) and come up behind the potting shed when I have forgotten all about them. A neighbour has these delicate Impatiens balfourii growing outside her house. The seed heads pop open when touched scattering their contents all down the street. I tried them in the courtyard but it’s too hot so I’ll have another go round the back of the house this year.
Another time you’ll find out what I come back with when I disappear into the fields with the wheelbarrow and spade… 🙂
Well, you may have thought us rather moany last month but in fact the average rainfall in Portugal was 272 mm (10.7 inches), making it the second wettest March since 1931 (the rainiest being in 2001). It was also pretty parky: it was the coldest March since 2000, with an average maximum temperature 2.6% below normal. So there you have it: cold and wet! At least the drought (since April 2017) was officially over. Meanwhile this month hasn’t been fab but when the wind has dropped and the sun’s come out it’s been wonderful and we’ve been making the most of that: a mixture of working outside and lazy barbecues… Those of you as fascinated by meteorological matters as Richard is can check out his weather page on the site.
So first up has been pruning the olive trees. We have both to admit that our pruning skills aren’t great, and although we’ve attempted to keep on top of it all there are a number of grand masters in the garden that we are reluctant to touch. Not only are they too big for us to cut but we actually like them although our neglect has meant some now look rather scruffy and aren’t growing that well. Luckily our friend Barbara, armed with chainsaw and lopper and a lot more confidence than we have, came to the rescue. She also gave lots of advice about how to do it ourselves which we hope a) we can remember and b) we have the courage to act on. Seeing her hidden high among the branches with the chainsaw was rather alarming. As was the result on a couple of trees too!
Richard, you can see, was helping out from the safety of ground level…
The good thing though is that olive trees are very forgiving and whatever we do they’ll bounce back. You may remember at the beginning of the year we planted over 30 saplings and all of these, bar one, seem to be doing well with lots of leaves, they’ll be great in 5 years time!
The constant rain has meant the grass has grown extremely tall. There are areas where the hens refuse to go, no doubt concerned they’ll never get out again. So the second main job of the month for Richard has been strimming, not a small feat now that we also have the field next door. And for me that means raking, my least favourite job. The cut grass is great for mulching though and most has been used around the small saplings in preparation for the scorching months ahead.
Having to be inside more has meant opportunity to take on my latest hobby: natural dyeing. Since discovering that many of the ingredients for this are to be found not only in the nearby woods and fields but also in the garden means I haven’t looked back. There are already baskets and jars and pots full of bark and lichens and roots all over the kitchen and under the porch outside.
I’ve been quite excited about the colours achieved but Richard says, “Well done, another shade of brown.” But nice shades of brown, I think 🙂
Richard has also rescued the vine that was sprawling in the field we bought, he’s built a wooden structure for it to grow over so no doubt another attempt at wine making is on the cards. Steps have also been made through the dry stone wall from the field into our garden for easy access.
So we’re looking forward to May, and so are all the plants in the demi-poly that are waiting to be planted out, and saying goodbye to the April showers.
The good: it’s been raining. In fact we have had rain every day in March except 13th. This means the grass is green, the well is full and there are puddles galore for Jussi on her walks. The saplings we put in are beginning to show the very first signs of life.
The seed sowing has been slightly delayed this year until it’s a tad warmer, but those on the kitchen windowsill are coming through. Each of the sweetcorn has just germinated, I can taste those already. The purple sprouting broccoli is out and being eaten (by us!) and the lettuce, radishes, rocket (and some nettles) are thriving in the demipoly:
The bad: it’s been raining. In fact we have had rain every day in March except 13th. This means the hens and roasties, and even the ducks, spend more time sheltering despite so much lush grass to eat. The broad beans are up and flowering but the flowers look rather soggy and there doesn’t seem to have been many insects about, I’m waiting for the first pod to appear. The peas are bedraggled. The raised beds in the veg patch, it seems not that long ago, were looking great but the weeds love this weather and are slowly taking over:
The beautiful: but we have had some sunny intervals, enough for the spring flowers to appear:
And the blackthorn at the end of the garden has put on a marvellous snowy, showy spectacle:
We have left it too late to clean out the bird boxes as the blue tits are already making themselves at home. And on the morning walks nothing is nicer than hearing the Song Thrush echo down the valley. They have normally gone by now, being winter visitors, but it seems they have decided to stay this year. How nice:
First of all, a very big Happy New Year to all our readers. We are looking forward to a 2018 of cooler temperatures, more rain but still plenty of sunshine. Fingers crossed!
Meanwhile, we have had quite a lot of (very welcomed) rain and the garden and veg patch look wonderful sporting a bright emerald green. When the sun comes out everything glows and it’s been perfect to get outside and do some end of year jobs between the downfalls. (And how nice that those clouds on the horizon have got nothing to do with fires). The peas and broad beans are well on their way and I’m really pleased that all 60 of the garlic are up. Plenty of onions (red and yellow) have been planted too so it feels like being back on track at last.
So homemade damson vodka was put aside for operation hen run. The hens had completely scratched or eaten every single blade of grass and were living on a bare patch of earth. A few hoops later and some chicken wire they now have a tunnel to one of their other meadows which had been tempting them for the last few weeks. I’d done this before and the system works very well; the hoops are simply removed once the grass returns. Now there’s plenty to keep them happy.
Very sadly our last Orpington didn’t survive to appreciate the green goodness. We have no idea why she died and it upset us both that she too succumbed, especially having survived the summer. Rocky and Hatty are well though and very feisty, and two eggs every day is more than enough. Bye bye, Bright Eyes.
Over the year we also said goodbye to the Stanley plum and one of the plane trees we’d planted a few years ago (plus the redcurrant and blackcurrant in the veg patch), it was just too hot we think. So we decided to buy a load more trees! Of course this means yet more watering but plan A is that, once they are mature, they’ll create their own shade and prevent the ground from completely drying up. We found a garden centre that sells saplings at a very reasonable price and came away with 33 (yes, 33!), for 18 euros. In addition, the Saturday before the New Year was just wonderful, we had lunch outside, and we were able to plant all of these in one go.
Some went in the back of the garden and some in the field we now have next to the house where we park the car. So a mixture of chestnuts, Monterey pines, Portuguese cyprus, oaks (red and cork), poplars, liquidambers, and strawberry trees. Plus a replacement Stanley. In danger of being strimmed, they are all earmarked with twigs bearing bright yellow ribbons. We hope they are now loving the rain.
Late December is also the time to make the year’s supply of marmalade and get the juicer out. I did the former and Richard the latter; the kitchen smelt of citrus for days.
But now it’s time to reveal what gets our Plant of the Year award for 2017. Well, actually I think they all deserve a medal of some sort. Such a horrid summer and yet very few things actually died. Some just stopped doing anything and have now kicked into life, mainly the brassicas. Others produced fruit but just not in the same quantity or size as previous years. But the award, this year, goes to the capsicums. Both the green bell peppers, many of which turned red, and the chilli peppers did very well indeed and were certainly the stars of the show.
It was always so nice to pop into the veg patch and see their vibrant colours.
So it’s that time of the year now to sit down with the last of the mince pies and thumb through the seed catalogue. I have managed to keep loads of seeds each year, there’s certainly no need to buy any more tomato seeds, but it’s always nice to try something new. Have a great year gardening, too!
The poor old veg patch, suffering in the heat and drought. Then, even though we only got a bit, last month’s rain perked a few things up, mainly the brassicas which I have just been keeping alive in the hope that, when the rain did come, they would recuperate. That indeed seems to have happened: the sprouts, purple sprouting broccoli, calabrese and cavolo nero all took a turn for the better and revived my enthusiasm too.
In fact, the never ending sunny days have meant there’s been little pressure getting things done before the weather takes a turn for the worse so, slowly but surely, I have been turning the overgrown mess into something that resembles beds once more. 60 garlic in here now:
Along with the dreaded weeding I have now planted a bed of leeks and sown a bed each of broad beans and peas, just some onions to go in and then the winter crops will have been sorted. There are still some crops left, the aubergines and courgettes need to be pulled up, and the asparagus chopped down, but there are some tomatoes, peppers and chillies growing so they’ll be left for a bit. The fact that the grass is growing again has also lifted my spirits.
I have also, a major achievement this, sorted out the potting shed – hurrah! Loads of stuff has got thrown away, tools cleaned and hung up, shelves tidied and cobwebs swept. The little rosemary hedge around the front has grown amazingly and has been pruned. It looks great inside again now. I couldn’t find a photo of when I first planted the rosemary cuttings but you can just see a tiny one here, and the weigela, the last time I sorted out the shed in June 2014:
Look how everything has grown in the last 3 or so years:
You can see that the polytunnel has at last got a new covering, but only the top half. It’s now called the demi-poly. And, since starting this post, you’ll notice the weather has turned. At long last it feels like autumn, it’s mild but misty, and the smell of wood smoke means that bonfires are being lit rather than the forest is on fire. Perfect gardening weather at last. (Is it really December, and winter, next week?!)
Meanwhile, on the feathered front, all the roasties, ducks and the guinea fowl are now in the freezer. We also only have three hens now as Barbara, and her pendulous crop, couldn’t cope any more. So we have Rocky, Barbara’s sister Hatty (centre), and the gentle giant Bright Eyes (background), the only one of the Orpingtons to have made it. She gets bullied terribly by the other two, despite being twice their size, and has yet to lay an egg.
I’ll finish with a pic only gardeners will appreciate: the very first broad bean poking through. Despite the digging, weeding and compost turning the sight of a little seedling makes it all worthwhile :-).
Where to start? Well, we took the first 2 weeks of September off, another camping trip to the French Pyrenees plus some super stopovers in Spain. Faithful hounds, house and hens were all looked after by a fabulous couple which gave us a real break.
Now of course it doesn’t feel as if we have been away at all. Our first task on return was Operation Pergola. We put up this wooden structure in 2010, before we’d even moved in.
The idea was to grow vines over it for a lovely shady spot to eat under in the summer. The first year went to plan, three vines grew quickly up and over. The second year was okay but come the third the vines just didn’t seem to be doing very well, and then alas they seem to have died. Such a disappointment. I blamed it on the location: too high up, windy and exposed. But then Richard built another structure, even more exposed, on the threshing square. The vines grew and flourished and soon became exactly what we wanted:
The vines, or rather the dead woody branches, were cut down and onto plan B: kiwis. They grow so well around here and the fruit would be an added bonus. Again, they started well but it soon became apparent that these were a failure too. Digging them out, with a heavy heart, we found the problem, or rather the culprits: voles. There were enormous holes under each plant and the roots had all been eaten away.
So plan C was activated on our return. This was to lower the top, it was always proportionately too high, and cover it with bamboo sheets. Somehow we ended up buying the reed version but it has been covered. Then we’re going to plant climbers in large pots around the structure, it will look nice one day… but look how the plants around it have grown!
Meanwhile the veg patch has sort of been abandoned. The heat has just been too much for most things, although we have had tomatoes, cucumbers, some celeriac and courgettes on our return.
The real survivors though are the peppers, both sweet and hot. The forecast is for temperatures to remain high so perhaps the aubergine flowers will bear fruit.
Another victim of the heat has been the polytunnel. Such a great idea but in reality, with these Portuguese long and oh so hot summers, not very practical. There were days when it rained (I vaguely remember what that means…) or overcast when the polytunnel was great. However, seedlings, if left in there even on a sunny March day, would soon shrivel up. I tried to grow tomatoes in a small bed but these too suffered in the heat. Rocket bolted and lettuce shrivelled. I was forever taking trays in and out, and then I lost a couple of sweet potatoes over the winter as it didn’t even keep the frost away. So, all the plastic has been pulled off and I’m considering just covering the top half so that it can still be some sort of shelter and storage area.
One success story has been the prickly pears, loads this year, and we seem to have a bumper harvest of walnuts too.
Finally, Richard has asked me to put up this photo of his cider factory. (Faithful followers will remember the last post when we picked barrel loads of apples). We’re hoping it’s going to be ready for Christmas:
That’s it! The chicken story will have to wait, as will the saga of the dual carriageway being built though the village…
There are a couple of reasons why we have been rather slow at updating the blog recently. The first has to do with my iMac; it seemed to have died. We stared at the blank black screen that refused to show any sign of life and then, as there seemed to be a strange noise coming from behind, we both peered over the top… poof! It blew itself up. We have only just got round to choosing a (non iMac) replacement today.
The other reason (I’m struggling with the different apps on Richard’s computer now) is that we have both been busy turning Casa Azul into Fábrica Azul – a factory for a whole range of fruity goodness. For some reason the apple and pear harvest has been amazing this year, not just in our garden, but everywhere we go. Branches are breaking and bending under the weight of large, ripe fruit, many falling to the ground to create a colourful, fermenting carpet.
Our apples have been grated and given to grateful hens, chopped into cubes for crumbles and of course enjoyed with the local cheese for dessert. They have also been peeled, cored and sliced and then frozen. We have this great gadget that does the peeling, coring and slicing in one go so we go though the kilos very quickly.
Next up was the drying. To say that the weather is perfect for drying would be an understatement, it’s been hot and windy for weeks. So experimenting with an old clothes horse, apples have been dried in spirals, reminding me of the hanging incense in Hong Kong.
Not content with all of this Richard loaded up the truck with empty barrels and we drove around the country lanes collecting loads of apples from a range of different trees for Operation Cider. Out came the juicer and all the paraphernalia for making one of his top tipples. As he has been making beer as well it would not be an exaggeration to say the house smells of a brewery. (In fact the fermenting bucket behind me looks like something is trying to escape from it).
The pears have had a different treatment. Most have been bottled, my all favourite way for preserving fruit. There’s nothing nicer in the winter than to open a jar of summer sunniness which has been flavoured with vanilla, or perhaps star anise and cinnamon, cloves or cardomoms. Mmm indeed.
The bottling process has been quite a learning curve, there’s a huge difference in approach between the US and UK but I think I’ve perfected the technique this year. We have also had pears cooked in a red wine syrup, a dessert so tasty it should be more difficult to make.
Apart from the tree fruit the tomatoes have, until recently, been defiantly putting on some sort of show. Luckily I have grown a fair number of plants because the high temperatures have put an end to any decent crop from each one, and the range of varieties grown has also meant we have had enough for salads as well as roasting a whole load too. You can never have too many roast tomatoes. The special roma ones have then been through the mouli to make passata. Aah indeed. Luckily we have two freezers.
And just as I was feeling we were getting on top of everything, tidying all the gadgets and whatnots away, Richard has just announced that the figs are ready. Looks like the factory isn’t closing down just yet…
