What happened in 2017

I last posted here in June. Alas, the story of 2017 resembles that of many previous years - I was enthusiastic and quite industrious in the spring, but once summer arrived, I lost my grip on things. Why is summer a problem for me? Well I think in part it's that it cannot match springtime's positive feel. In spring, everything is upward - the light levels are always increasing, temperatures are creeping up, all the plants are growing, and the world is garlanded in flowers in a way that it isn't at any other time. Forgotten bulbs turn lawns, flower beds, and even roadside verges into extravagant floral displays. And so many trees light up, each in turn - blackthorn, then plum, apple, cherry, horse chestnut, and finally the crescendo of hawthorn, lilac, elder, and laburnum. In summer the trees are just in leaf - which is better than the bareness of winter, but it's a bit monotonous, even oppressive. And after the solstice, the leaves start to look tired, as weather and insects take their toll. The fresh green, glossy new growth of spring turns dull. The light starts to slip away, even as the weather can get hotter. But especially in Britain, summer weather is usually less good (especially away from the south east) than we hope or imagine - it's not often sunny and warm, there's too much rain, and indeed more often than not the whole season is a washout. I'm a fair weather gardener, and the combination of summer wet and my absence means weeds grow fast, slugs and snails multiply, and demoralisation turns into abandonment.

The purple potatoes were extraordinarily beautiful when freshly washed. Sometimes when cooked they would go blue - possibly due to an acid/base reaction? 

Last year then. I harvested what was there - and it was good. The broad beans were healthy, although the patch wasn't big enough, and the whole crop was used up in one big batch of falafel. Shallots were great, but I stored them too long and most went bad over the winter. Potatoes were beautiful, although I don't eat them much, and some were made into gnocchi. I stored them in the fridge, and they only started sprouting this spring when I finally brought the remaining ones out again. The garlic has sustained me ever since - along with some I grubbed up from the polytunnel, planted by me three years previously, and which has somehow survived without water ever since. I use a lot of garlic in cooking, and I've not had to buy any for at least eight months. The cloves are small but wonderfully fragrant and delicious.

Incidentally, I ordered new garlic sets in August, for autumn planting. But I didn't - they languished in their paper bags until this spring, when I started them growing in modules and pots. Hopefully they will still provide a crop. They are at least growing!

More homegrown potato gnocchi, with a white-fleshed variety - here served with a creamy tomato sauce, really delicious (sadly the tomatoes were not homegrown).

Gardening is an act of arch optimism, and each spring I feel it's all possible again. Self knowledge helps - I know my weaknesses, I can try to offset them. Maybe this year will be the one.