A CORNY COLUMN
‘August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is born.’
(Sara Coleridge, 1802-52)
As I sit in my writing shed looking out across my summer garden, I see rain coming down so powerfully that it’s like looking through a veil. Vast puddles form in the middle of the paths and the water butts overflow to saturate the site on which they stand. I have been fortunate in many ways with my soil. Although it is rather hungry, it’s always been free draining. When it rains, it permeates rapidly. Now however, the water table is so high that even my sandy soil is waterlogged. The plants that like it free draining such as the lavenders are struggling. Even those flowers that don’t mind what the weather is have had too much of a good thing and have grown lank and soft. The wind has had its fun too and has flattened many of the taller varieties. There’s no butterflies, no bees, no hoverflies, and the birds are lying low. It’s been a disastrous year for wildlife. I hope things quickly improve; my wildlife garden is open again from 2-5 pm on the 27th (Bank Holiday Monday) for the National Garden Scheme and I won’t have much to show people at this rate!
CORN
Now corn is something of a funny word. It means different things to different people. As above, to Sara Coleridge and the British, corn means wheat, but to the Americans, it means maize. Normally, most summers, I grow a wheat field. Not a huge wheat field, it’s only ten feet by six feet, but it serves its purpose. Its purpose is two-fold. Firstly, it’s the vehicle I use to demonstrate what Britain’s wheat fields looked like fifty and more years ago before the intensive use of insecticides and herbicides became the norm. It is full of old-fashioned cornfield flowers such as corncockle, corn marigold, scented mayweed, field poppies, and lots of others. Secondly, I use the wheat crop to supplement my hen’s diet by way of a treat. I’m sure she would be fed up with layers pellets all the time. Then, in late summer, after the ‘weeds’ have set and cast their seed, we pull them out and harvest our wheat (see photo.) It’s great fun, very beautiful, a haven for wildlife, and is something out of the ordinary.
Growing it is simplicity itself. In the late summer/early autumn, dig over the plot and add some organic matter such as manure or garden compost. Let the ground settle for a week or so, and then rake to a fine tilth. You now have the option of sowing the wheat in rows or broadcasting it. Being the kind of chap who usually takes the easy option, I broadcast it. I do this quite thickly. I think the old adage is, ‘one for to rot and one for the crow, one for the mouse, and one for to grow.’ If I have that wrong, perhaps one of you old farmers out there could let me know the correct version please. Once I’ve done that, I sow copious amounts of cornfield annuals among the wheat. I do this thickly because again, the birds will tuck into most of it. Rake it all in and then walk over it to consolidate. Of course, this should only be done during a dry period, not when the ground is soaking wet.
A small wheat field is cheap to make. It just takes a few handfuls of wheat seed and a packet of cornfield annuals. Wriggly Wigglers sell 100g of wheat seed for £1.60, and you can buy packets of cornflower annuals at any garden centre for less than £2. This means that you can be enjoying a small wheat field of yore for under £5. What sort of value is that!
This year though, we’re trying some of the American corn. That’s maize to you and me, sweet corn. It’s the first time I’ve grown it for years. I’m doing so because I wanted to try the new ‘super sweet’ varieties, which are supposed to hold their sweetness for a week or more. The traditional varieties begin to convert their sugars to starch as soon as picked. This meant that they had to be cooked and eaten as soon as harvested if you didn’t want a diminution of flavour. The super sweet varieties can be difficult to sow and grow, needing a lot of tender love and care. Therefore I bought them already growing as plug plants. They come in a pack of sixteen, which makes the perfect number for a small block of four plants by four plants. I just planted them out and put small individual bell cloches over them to protect them from the weather’s vagaries until they could look after themselves. You can buy these from most seed catalogues as plug plants become more and more popular.
BEWARE BLIGHT
The incessant rain we’re having will guarantee one thing if you’re growing potatoes – blight. Keep a sharp eye out for it or it will ruin your crop. Our early spuds (Home Guard) have been fine. Our second earlies (Bonnie) began to show a touch of it. However, the blight has blasted our main crop (King Edward.) If the blight manages to creep down the haulm and into the potatoes underground, it will ruin the crop. Therefore, I’ve cut my losses and removed the diseased foliage before lifting the tubers. Obviously, the main crop spuds were disappointing, only being the size of largish new potatoes, but at least it’s a crop. I hear echoes of the Irish potato famine in the mid 1800s. They had a summer like this and what tragedy it caused.
If you look at the photo of the potatoes (see photo,) the large ones you see are five inches long, and no, they aren’t main crop, they are ‘Bonnie,’ our second earlies. I don’t know the cause. It could be the rain swelling them. It could even be the power of the manure. We bought a load from the Shebbear young farmers manure sale on the Pill last autumn. Nevertheless, goodness me; I’ve never seen second early tubers like it.
Let me know if you’ve had any ‘interesting’ vegetables. Accompanying photos would be useful, but don’t worry if you haven’t any, anecdotes are always fun. Don’t be naughty though.
Until we meet again next month, happy gardening!
You can contact me on [email protected]
You can visit my website at cherrytrees.weebly.com
‘August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is born.’
(Sara Coleridge, 1802-52)
As I sit in my writing shed looking out across my summer garden, I see rain coming down so powerfully that it’s like looking through a veil. Vast puddles form in the middle of the paths and the water butts overflow to saturate the site on which they stand. I have been fortunate in many ways with my soil. Although it is rather hungry, it’s always been free draining. When it rains, it permeates rapidly. Now however, the water table is so high that even my sandy soil is waterlogged. The plants that like it free draining such as the lavenders are struggling. Even those flowers that don’t mind what the weather is have had too much of a good thing and have grown lank and soft. The wind has had its fun too and has flattened many of the taller varieties. There’s no butterflies, no bees, no hoverflies, and the birds are lying low. It’s been a disastrous year for wildlife. I hope things quickly improve; my wildlife garden is open again from 2-5 pm on the 27th (Bank Holiday Monday) for the National Garden Scheme and I won’t have much to show people at this rate!
CORN
Now corn is something of a funny word. It means different things to different people. As above, to Sara Coleridge and the British, corn means wheat, but to the Americans, it means maize. Normally, most summers, I grow a wheat field. Not a huge wheat field, it’s only ten feet by six feet, but it serves its purpose. Its purpose is two-fold. Firstly, it’s the vehicle I use to demonstrate what Britain’s wheat fields looked like fifty and more years ago before the intensive use of insecticides and herbicides became the norm. It is full of old-fashioned cornfield flowers such as corncockle, corn marigold, scented mayweed, field poppies, and lots of others. Secondly, I use the wheat crop to supplement my hen’s diet by way of a treat. I’m sure she would be fed up with layers pellets all the time. Then, in late summer, after the ‘weeds’ have set and cast their seed, we pull them out and harvest our wheat (see photo.) It’s great fun, very beautiful, a haven for wildlife, and is something out of the ordinary.
Growing it is simplicity itself. In the late summer/early autumn, dig over the plot and add some organic matter such as manure or garden compost. Let the ground settle for a week or so, and then rake to a fine tilth. You now have the option of sowing the wheat in rows or broadcasting it. Being the kind of chap who usually takes the easy option, I broadcast it. I do this quite thickly. I think the old adage is, ‘one for to rot and one for the crow, one for the mouse, and one for to grow.’ If I have that wrong, perhaps one of you old farmers out there could let me know the correct version please. Once I’ve done that, I sow copious amounts of cornfield annuals among the wheat. I do this thickly because again, the birds will tuck into most of it. Rake it all in and then walk over it to consolidate. Of course, this should only be done during a dry period, not when the ground is soaking wet.
A small wheat field is cheap to make. It just takes a few handfuls of wheat seed and a packet of cornfield annuals. Wriggly Wigglers sell 100g of wheat seed for £1.60, and you can buy packets of cornflower annuals at any garden centre for less than £2. This means that you can be enjoying a small wheat field of yore for under £5. What sort of value is that!
This year though, we’re trying some of the American corn. That’s maize to you and me, sweet corn. It’s the first time I’ve grown it for years. I’m doing so because I wanted to try the new ‘super sweet’ varieties, which are supposed to hold their sweetness for a week or more. The traditional varieties begin to convert their sugars to starch as soon as picked. This meant that they had to be cooked and eaten as soon as harvested if you didn’t want a diminution of flavour. The super sweet varieties can be difficult to sow and grow, needing a lot of tender love and care. Therefore I bought them already growing as plug plants. They come in a pack of sixteen, which makes the perfect number for a small block of four plants by four plants. I just planted them out and put small individual bell cloches over them to protect them from the weather’s vagaries until they could look after themselves. You can buy these from most seed catalogues as plug plants become more and more popular.
BEWARE BLIGHT
The incessant rain we’re having will guarantee one thing if you’re growing potatoes – blight. Keep a sharp eye out for it or it will ruin your crop. Our early spuds (Home Guard) have been fine. Our second earlies (Bonnie) began to show a touch of it. However, the blight has blasted our main crop (King Edward.) If the blight manages to creep down the haulm and into the potatoes underground, it will ruin the crop. Therefore, I’ve cut my losses and removed the diseased foliage before lifting the tubers. Obviously, the main crop spuds were disappointing, only being the size of largish new potatoes, but at least it’s a crop. I hear echoes of the Irish potato famine in the mid 1800s. They had a summer like this and what tragedy it caused.
If you look at the photo of the potatoes (see photo,) the large ones you see are five inches long, and no, they aren’t main crop, they are ‘Bonnie,’ our second earlies. I don’t know the cause. It could be the rain swelling them. It could even be the power of the manure. We bought a load from the Shebbear young farmers manure sale on the Pill last autumn. Nevertheless, goodness me; I’ve never seen second early tubers like it.
Let me know if you’ve had any ‘interesting’ vegetables. Accompanying photos would be useful, but don’t worry if you haven’t any, anecdotes are always fun. Don’t be naughty though.
Until we meet again next month, happy gardening!
You can contact me on [email protected]
You can visit my website at cherrytrees.weebly.com