EUROTRASH

I can no longer deny that since coming back from Brussels, I’ve gone doo-lally!  Those sneaky Belgians must have put something in their beer and waffles because I simply can’t explain how it is that I went to work last week wearing odd shoes or that I ordered one potato with my weekly shopping.  Yes, one solitary potato turned up all on its own in a small plastic bag.  Who in their right mind orders just one potato?  It’s unthinkable! Clearly, this is some kind of clever ploy by Eurocrats to turn citizens of the EU into bumbling dimwits who can’t dress themselves or shop for vegetables online. 

First impression of Brussels – grey, dull and very wet.  Must be why the European parliament is based there.   It stands to reason it should be sited in the country that gave us gas-producing vegetables and Jean-Claude Van Damme.  Seriously though, Belgium is not only famous for its sprouts but also for its beer, waffles, chocolate, Tintin and the Mannekin Pis, a small boy peeing into a fountain to whom all visitors pay homage. 

 Having been there I can now understand why the Eurocrats want to increase the European budgets,  mostly so they can clean the streets and finish off the underground stations as the majority don’t have working escalators.  If you think Britain’s got litter issues, take a look at this little lot.  You’d need an army of volunteers to sweep that under the Euro rug!

Photographic highlights from our weekend trip taken between showers include:

The beautiful Hotel Esperance in the Rue Finnisterre where we stayed which was decorated in the Art Deco style.  

Waffle stalls - Belgium has been blacklisted by Weight Watchers as being very bad for your waistline since it's economy is based largely on the sale of waffles, chocolate and beer!

Of course you can't visit Brussels without going to see its most famous landmark, the Atomium

or the European Parliament buildings

And the very impressive Grand Place, the focal point of the city and the one with the most ornate and wonderful architectural masterpieces.  

However, to get yourself heard above the din of the busy Belgian metropolis what you really need is one of these...

MORE ABOUT:

Brussels:  http://www.brussels.info/
Atomium:  http://atomium.be/
Mannekin Pis:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manneken_Pis
Hotel Esperance:  http://www.hotel-esperance.be/

SPRING FORWARD, FALL BACK

I may be losing the war on weeds but have finally scored a small victory in the battle of the bulge!  After weeks of being stuck on top of a depressing weight loss plateau, I’ve turned the corner and dropped a few pounds closer to my next half stone goal.  The secret?  Well I can’t say its gardening as very little time has been spent outdoors since our return from Marmaris but I have a sneaky suspicion that those Tuesday night trips to the local swimming pool have a lot to do with it.  Cutting carbs is the easy part, banishing the couch potato for good is another story especially now it’s getting cold and dark.

Since getting back from Turkey not only am I creating a weekly splash but I’m firmly behind the campaign to introduce a 4 day week as seen in a recent online article http://money.aol.co.uk/2012/10/10/bosses-should-offer-four-day-week/  “All employers should introduce the option of a four day working week with gardening promoted as a beneficial way of using the extra time, it has been suggested.”  Amen to that! 

How great would it be to look forward to a nice week day lie in, a leisurely trip to the garden centre for a cup of tea and browse round the bulbs followed by an afternoon of weeding and pruning?  What!!!  I’ve another 15 years of hard labour before I can enjoy this utopia which they call retirement – it’s so unfair!

I guess now that winter’s coming, I’ll have to dream on and squeeze out as much time as I can in my personal paradise before the clocks change or HMRC decides that spending money on plants is deemed some kind of tax avoidance.  Will we be made to declare our free homes for amphibians tax dodge?  

Free homes for frogs

Here's looking at you, kid.

Did you fart? I've just seen a bubble

You get some right riff raff in these communal ponds

Yummy!  A free lunch

George Osborne may be struggling to plug the hole in the nation’s coffers but I’ve got to grapple with ideas for plugging a large deficit of my own in the flower bed as the monstrous grass clump has finally been given its marching orders.

MORE ABOUT:
The 4 day week:  http://money.aol.co.uk/2012/10/10/bosses-should-offer-four-day-week/
Frogs and toads:  http://www.overthegardengate.net/wildlife/frogs.asp

MERHABA!

That’s Turkish for ‘hello’.  I’ve just come back from spending 2 glorious sun drenched weeks in the garden – that is the Hibiscus Gardens in Marmaris.  I now look like I’ve been creosoted such is the dirty shade of brown my skin has acquired after a fortnight sizzling under temperatures averaging 40 C most days.  Gardening is the last thing you’d want to do in heat that almost melted my rubber swimming shoes.  Let’s just say, I was more than relieved to come back to the fresher British climate although it was lovely not having to worry about taking a jacket every time you popped out for a stroll day or night.  The kebab dinners were also to die for.

Hibiscus Gardens - Marmaris

So, Marmaris what’s it really like?  Well if you fancy a quiet relaxing break on the Med in a place steeped in history, culture, maybe doing a bit of philosophising with the locals over a Turkish coffee and baklava then forget it.  Marmaris is like a Turkish Torremolinos – wall to wall tacky neon lit tourist bars/restaurants covered in plasma screens and blaring out the kind of cheesy English music you’d only find at an Essex wedding reception.  Visitors are just walking cash cows there to be fleeced of as many Turkish Liras as possible with maximum in-your-face hassle.  Believe me when I say there’s nothing pleasant about exchanging oxygen up close with a big hairy Turk trying to flog you a pair of fake Ray Bans.

Marmaris Town Centre

 Worst place for hassle – Marmaris’s Thursday market.  Sensitive types who would not enjoy haggling with aggressive salesmen should avoid this like the plague.  Downstairs, the tranquil fruit and veg section whilst upstairs, a loud bustling knock-off emporium.  Good quality genuine fakes proclaim the local ‘Arthur Daleys’, all trying to out-scream each other.  Come on, seriously a real pair of Armani jeans for a tenner – only in your dreams!

Thursday market - fruit/veg sellers

However, don’t let me give you the impression that Marmaris is a nightmare holiday destination because aside from the hassle and over-bearing minority, it is in fact a very beautiful place.  The main town (a thriving metropolis) centres round a large harbour full of expensive looking boats and restaurants.  A dark sandy beach stretches for miles down the coast to the next town, Icmeler, bordered by the sparkling blue Aegean.  It’s no wonder this area is referred to as the Turquoise coast.   

View of the harbour area from Marmaris beach

Dusk over the local coastline

Marmaris beach promenade

Incredibly, the town also boasted 2 large garden centres selling a diverse range of tropical palms, bougainvillea shrubs, olive trees and terracotta pots.  I can’t understand why no-one else was interested in taking a look round.

Turkish garden centre

Although the surrounding countryside was fried to a crisp, many hotels and local homes had beautiful lush gardens with all those lovely plants that struggle to grow in our wet, windy and sunless climes. 

What real drought conditions look like

 The hibiscuses in our hotel were gorgeous and I managed to capture a few of them on film to relieve the monotony of sunbathing.

And if you're really on a shoestring holiday budget then there's always ....

MORE ABOUT:

Marmaris:  http://www.marmaris.org/

Hibiscuses:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hibiscus

Kebabs:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kebab

28 SHADES OF BLACK AND BLUE

I’ve been pummelled to within an inch of my life!  Jessica Ennis may have won a gold medal for the heptathlon but this morning, I’ve woken up with bruises the size of Olympic aubergines after yesterday’s sport massage. 

Groupon’s small print said nothing about the sadistic nature of these treatments.  There was not a peep in the very, very illegible text just visible about a millimetre from the bottom of the printed page that suggested keeping an ice pack handy or describing the after effects of going 10 rounds with a carpet beater and losing.  I now know what that vacuous literary character Anastasia Steele felt after a visit to the Red Room of Pain (oh my!) in 50 Shades of Grey as like the old joke about nuns falling down stairs,  I’m about 28 shades of black and blue all over. 

What's black, white & blue all over?

 Anastasia Steele would certainly have pee’d her pants at the thought of the Brown Bench of Butt Clenching which aptly describes what happens when you have a sports massage on your legs.  Believe me when I say it takes super-human effort not to fart when you’re lying face down on a leather couch with a muscle-bound physiotherapist pumping your feet back towards your arse cheeks!   A Red Room of Pain sounds like something Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen dreamed up after 10 pints and a tikka masala.

So why have I subjected myself to this torture?  Well aside from the fact that I paid good money to Groupon for the pleasure of being put through the wringer, I thought it would relieve what I call ‘cockle butt’.  Cockle Butt is a little known medical condition up there with Housemaid’s Knee and Golfer’s Elbow.  It commonly affects those who have spent several hours picking cockles at the seaside.  Tightening of thigh, hamstring and butt muscles is the result of 2 hours of bending, squatting and generally scrabbling round in the sand looking for these tasty shellfish.  Sitting becomes very painful after a good cockling session thus making a sports massage seem like a good idea at the time. 

Picking cockles requires stamina, the desire to sift through tons of smelly mud and a knack for knowing where these things might be hiding.  Like gardening, it’s a past-time that yields  great rewards as we picked a bucket load of cockles between tides, dispelling the popular myth (according to Charminster’s own Ancient Mariner) that you’ve got to be up at the crack of dawn and Chinese to pick cockles. 

She sells sea shells on the seashore

And that’s not the half of it.  Cooking and shelling cockles is even more arduous than picking them.  For starters, you need at least 2 old saucepans, a large colander and asbestos fingers.  The shelled cockles are washed in cold water having been left in the bucket to purge themselves overnight then placed into a covered saucepan where after about 5 minutes they steam themselves open.  They are then hooked out of their shells with a fork and subjected to another thorough rinsing in cold water to remove any left-over grit or sand.  Freshly cooked cockles can be sprinkled with vinegar or lemon juice for a delicious snack (low cal!) 

200g jar of Van Smirren cockles £2.18 making our haul worth around £43

After cooking and shelling, our bucket load of cockles weighed in just below 2 kg.  

So whilst I’m now wincing at the sight of the office chair, I have the satisfaction of knowing that when cockling becomes the next Olympic event I shall be up on that podium like all those other great athletes before me bravely clutching my medal and my battered thighs for Queen and country.  

And Britain takes the cockling gold medal!

MORE ABOUT:

Cockles:   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cockle_(bivalve)

Anastasia Steele:  http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10818853-fifty-shades-of-grey

Sports Massage:  http://spas.about.com/od/sports/a/sports.htm

WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION

They’ve nicked all our fish, beaten our football team and destroyed our indigenous bluebells but now there’s a new resident evil that’s slithered out of the Iberian Peninsula – the Spanish Stealth Slug!

Not to be underestimated, these are truly weapons of mass gardening destruction.  As large as a cat turd and with an appetite that could rival a classroom of teenage boys (and we all know how much they can tuck away), a stealth slug is a slimy ‘Terminator’ type eating machine.  No amount of copper collars, slug pellets or grapefruit peel is going to prevent these monsters from thinking your hostas are some kind of gardening Big Mac to be consumed along with extra helpings of lettuce.  

Which makes me wonder if there isn’t anyone out there that might be persuaded to eat slugs for the good of all mankind.  What about the Chinese?  Or the French?  After all, slugs are just naked escargots – what’s not to like?  Just think of all the tasty culinary dishes that could be created; Schezuan slug, slug satay, coq au slug, slughetti - the possibilities are endless!  I’m also willing to bet that slugs are probably low in calories.  OK, let’s just park that thought there.  I’m not even going to begin to imagine what it would be like to snack on a packet of freeze dried slugs with my morning coffee just to have a figure like Marilyn Monroe.  Ugghh!!!!

Seriously though, don't try eating slugs.  Yes, that includes you Greeks. Even if you're implementing severe austerity measures or trying to save a few pennies, a slug feast is not going to solve your economic woes.  Not only are they disgusting but they're full of bacteria, viruses and other lurgi that isn't good for you. (see web link below)

I shall be on the look-out for anything that remotely resembles a stealth slug especially as the cardoon plant I bought last month is on the verge of producing something resembling a baby artichoke.  Last thing I want to come home to is a pot full of tattered green shreds and a lawn covered in over-weight slimy critters! 

Slugs - this is not your dinner!

Will it be a lovely flower?

 If anyone out there has any thoughts on how we can deal with these menaces, please share them here.

MORE ABOUT:

Spanish Stealth Slugs:   http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-18672728

Cardoons:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/gardening/plants/plant_finder/plant_pages/248.shtml

Eating Slugs:  http://www.health.nsw.gov.au/news/2010/20100513_01.html

BLACK BEAUTIES

Well it’s turning out to be a typical English summer.  Flood warnings have been issued for many parts of the country, Murray’s lost at Wimbledon again and our Russian student keeps asking me where the sun is.  Good question.  I keep telling her it’s all to do with those Mayan prophecies for 2012 but somehow I don’t think she’s buying it …..

Rain may have blighted my son’s cricket season but it hasn’t stopped Mother Nature from doing what she does best, spreading her green mantle over the land.  After only 7 months, the blackberries are finally ripe for the picking.

January 2012 - blackberry bushes planted

First to crop is Loch Maree.  These two plants have virtually trebled in size thanks to all the rain and are dripping in fruits. If only we had a few sunny days there'd be enough berries to fill a decent sized punnet.

July 2012 - Loch Maree bush laden with fruits

The berries look gorgeous too.  Firm, plump and about the size of a two pence piece.  I'm sampling the first few tomorrow with my cornflakes.

Loch Maree blackberries

The Oregon Thorn-less is not far behind, cropping later in the season around August – September time.  Less shrubby than the Loch Maree, this variety has sprawled upwards rather than outwards, sending out long shoots which I’ve had to clip down onto the chicken wire netting which forms the walls of the cane tee-pee supporting the bushes. 

Probably a good idea if you’re thinking of adding a few blackberry plants to your garden to pick 2 varieties that crop at different times then you’ll be able to prolong berry production throughout summer and into early autumn. This way you'll be ready to combine with home grown apples for pie making.  

Take it from me, blackberries have been one of the easiest fruits to grow and a great return on investment, producing fruits in their first year in abundance.  

MORE ABOUT:

Growing blackberries:  http://www.food-skills-for-self-sufficiency.com/growing-blackberries.html

WATERSTON MANOR

Three cheers for Dorset Gardens Trust for organising yet another memorable day out in the English countryside!  This year’s Garden Day saw us heading off to Thomas Hardy country to visit Waterston Manor, an Elizabethan pile in the heart of the Dorset near Puddletown.   It’s a beautiful old house as you can see from some of our photos, complete with woodland walk, an orchard and water meadows leading down to the nearby River Piddle.  Far from the Madding Crowd is spot on as Waterston Manor was used as the model for Weatherbury Farm in the famous Hardy novel of the same name.

Side view of the Manor House

Waterston Manor 

What I love about these Garden Days is not only the chance to see posh houses and gardens that are not usually open to the public but also the extensive plant sales that take place in the grounds.  I couldn’t believe my eyes when we walked under the entrance archway and all I could see was row upon row of plant stalls.  I’m sure I slobbered round like a gibbering idiot for the first half hour.

Plants for sale

Having forgotten to visit a cashpoint en route, my shopping habit was restricted to the meagre £15 left in my purse but I still managed to balance the budget and come away with:

•  Eryngium Agavifolium (£3.50)
• Eryngium Sapphire Blue (£7.50)
• Thalictrum Delavayi (£3.50) 

These events are recommended for both old and young gardeners as there’s something for all and you’re bound to find some delightful flowery treasure amongst all the plants for sale.  

White climbing roses 

Cottage style borders

Shady garden

Back of the house

Lime tree walk

Water meadows 

MORE ABOUT:

Dorset Gardens Trust -  http://www.dorsetgardenstrust.co.uk/

Thomas Hardy - http://www.hardysociety.org/index.php/hardy

Eryngium Agavifolium - http://apps.rhs.org.uk/plantselector/plant?plantid=4463

Thalictrum Delavayi - http://apps.rhs.org.uk/plantselector/plant?plantid=1920

CONFESSIONS

I have 2 confessions to make – firstly, I’ve got hooked on Groupon.  It’s true.  I am a Groupon junkie.    I must have comfort bras, coloured kitchen knives or a Heston Blumenthal digital jug.  Life as I know it wouldn’t be complete without these things.  The marketing men have won.  Whatever magic formula they’ve used to infiltrate the mass mentality has worked a treat and now I’m hooked along with the other millions of customers who rush to their PCs every morning desperate for their daily Groupon ‘fix’.

My addiction is in its infancy.  So far, purchases include a night out for 6 people at the local Greyhound Stadium, (£26) a tour of Ringwood Brewery (£22 and lots of free beer), carpet cleaning (£24) and a 30 minute sports massage (£10) for my gammy leg.  Nothing wrong with that, it’s only a mere £82 you say.  They’re all things I probably would have spent money on anyway is what my inner voice tells me in order to justify this frivolous expenditure on otherwise needless things. 

I recently heard a story in the office of how Groupon addictions can get wildly out of control. It sent shivers through my purse but let’s get back to the story.  A girl’s mother, and compulsive shopper by the sounds of it, had slowly fallen under the Groupon spell.  She’d got to the stage where she’d pretty much buy anything and everything and over time, her house turned into one of those horror stories you see on TV Hoarders.  You couldn’t move for Groupon clutter.  It got so bad she tried to off load some of the more useful items on Ebay but in the end had to donate the lot to a charity shop.  Happy ending – yes, she did re-discover her lounge but sadly ended up several hundred pounds in debt.  Take heed all you other Groupon junkies out there as this could easily be you after a few months! 

Good job Groupon doesn’t have more gardening related offers otherwise by now I’d have a shed full of brightly coloured trowels, comfort knee pads or an Alan Titchmarsh digital compost measuring jug – and all those other relatively useless gardening items you just can’t live without.  (I’m not saying that Alan’s a relatively useless gardener as he’s the bee’s knees.  He’s more than welcome to swing by for a cup of tea and a spot of dead-heading any time!)

Second confession – I forgot to tell the world via ‘el bloggo’ that I’d picked our first raspberry. 

In fact, three have been picked so far and a few more green ones are hanging around ready for a bit of sunshine ripening.  Raspberries are strawberry’s hairier cousins (like Kate Moss before Epi-lady), beginning life as a set of bare twigs called ‘canes’ but ending up as tall, sprawling shrubs around 2-3 feet high.  Allow plenty of space when planting your raspberry canes and chose their final spot with care as they can take over a plot if allowed to run rampant.

We’ve planted ours in what was the original herb garden, one of the smaller raised beds where they get plenty of sunshine and shelter from winds.  Important as raspberries don’t like wind!  Being a fairly organic gardener, they’ve not been treated with anything other than a good helping of fruit & veg compost before planting.  All they need is sunshine which sadly can’t be purchased online.

And remember novice gardeners, if someone asks to see your hairy raspberry it’s not because they’ve got an interest in fruit growing!!

More about growing raspberries on the RHS web site http://www.rhs.org.uk/Gardening/Grow-Your-Own/Fruit-A-to-Z/Raspberries

DANNY SAYS 'NO' TO PIGS

A green and pleasant land - Danny Boyle’s vision for the grand London 2012 Olympic opening ceremony depicting all things British.  Comes complete with fluffy rain clouds and possibly free plastic ponchos for all sporting punters that will have paid through the nose for the privilege of sitting somewhere resembling Nether Wallop.  I say possibly FREE because everything else associated with the Olympics has essentially become a licence to print money.  If this doesn’t wipe the smile off the recession’s face then I don’t know what will.

Of course his pseudo green and pleasant land won’t have pikey encampments, litter lined motorways, dog poop or lagered up ladettes with smudged mascara and mouths like fishwives who are leaving their dinner all over a Tesco shop-front after three pints, six vodkas and an alco-jelly.  Danny’s version will of course be perfect in every respect.  The utopia our grandfathers fought for before anyone ever invented microwavable dinners or Twitter. 

In a way I’m glad Danny has chosen something green and pleasant rather than something brash and tacky.  Green and pleasant at least resonates with gardeners everywhere, after all there’s nothing the Brits enjoy more than pottering about in the greenery doing something pleasant.  But not picking snails as that’s not very pleasant.  Or sitting on an ants nest during a picnic as that too is pretty high on the list of all that’s fairly unpleasant especially if you’re wearing very baggy shorts or a thong. 

I hear that Danny’s green and pleasant land will also contain real animals but have noticed that pigs are not on the invite list.  Pity really as considering how much the British love a cup of tea and a bacon butty, I’d say that was a major oversight in depicting an accurate picture of the nation.  But never fear for if Danny says NO to pigs then here are a few porkers we snapped in the green and pleasant land around Dorchester.  

"That olympic opening ceremony sounds a bit kosher"

Usain Bolt's got nothing on me

I've seen all your films Danny!

"Kids say NO to steroids" - ain't that right, Frank?

Former gold medal mud rolling champion

It's green, it's pleasant but it's pig free - http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-18392025