Showing posts with label allotment garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label allotment garden. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 2, 2023

Spring report from Oslo

It seems as if spring is finally here. Dare we hope? Each time that we've had a few consecutive days of nice warm weather, it's been followed by the return of winter's cold, as was the case for the past week. I read the weather forecasts religiously now, because having a garden makes one more attentive to the weather (and lack of good weather). My fellow gardeners and I share our frustrations about the lousy spring we've had so far; the only spring flowers that have bloomed are the snowdrops, crocuses and violets, and they didn't bloom until mid-April. The tulips are in wait modus, and even the forsythia has not bloomed. The one plant that has grown and will bloom soon is the Helleborus Snow Rose, which has lovely flowers as I remember. The grass lawn is another story. A thick layer of snow topped by ice covered the garden until mid-April, compacting the grass to the point where I am unsure if it will grow back during this season. Time will tell. I am prepared to reseed the small area of lawn that I have in my garden. 

It's pointless to be irritated at a season, I know, but I have been so irritated that winter just keeps hanging on. It won't let go this year. Weather is the main topic of conversation in the garden; questions arise about global warming. We are worried that the growing season will be too short this year. The joke is that we'd love for there to be more global warming in Oslo so that we had shorter winters and longer summers. The reality of course is that global warming will lead to cooling in some parts of the world due to the changes in weather patterns caused by the melting of the polar ice caps. Who knows where it will all lead or end? As one of my friends in the garden says, we can talk about all the problems in the world, and there are a lot of them, but in the end, she looks forward to going home to google 'how to prune a rose bush'. That's her way of relaxing. Mine is similar; I love looking at online garden catalogs and some of the ones that arrive in the mail. I love going into garden stores to wander around. Sometimes I have specific plans about what to buy, other times no. And I do google a lot of garden-related issues; right now I'm reading about how to aerate a lawn and how important it is to do that.  

Today is one of those lovely sunny days in Oslo that foretell the imminent arrival of summer. But again, I, like the tulips, am in a wait-and-see modus. In some parts of the country south of Oslo, where there are often two growing seasons for the farmers (e.g. grains), it snowed yesterday. Luckily it didn't snow in Oslo, it only rained. The garden needs water, so I won't complain. But it seems odd to me that I leave the garden after a few hours work, come home and make myself a cup of hot chocolate--a winter drink if ever there was one. I worked for two hours cleaning and cleaning out the greenhouse yesterday, throwing away old baskets and plant containers, since it was too chilly to do anything else. I noticed that there is a different type of spider that has taken up residence in the greenhouse; these spiders look like tiny brown crabs scuttling across the floor of the greenhouse when they scurry for cover. There are not a lot of them. The usual spiders are the larger white ones with spindly legs that remind me of daddy-longlegs; they run away at the slightest sign of trouble. There are also the pill bugs that spend most of their time hiding; you find them in the compost bin if you turn the contents, but also under watering cans and the like in the greenhouse. They eat decaying plant matter, which is a good thing. I've also begun to turn the earth in the planting beds; there are a lot of big earthworms this year. During the few warm days we've had, the bumblebees and honeybees were out foraging for pollen. The insects are doing their jobs, and the garden underground is teeming with life. The garden is just waiting for the 'go' signal so that the plants can bloom and do their jobs. 

Saturday, April 8, 2023

What a difference a week makes

What a difference a week makes! This is how the garden looked on March 29th--still a lot of snow on the ground and ice patches here and there. Pretty, but I was getting impatient because I wanted to get started in the garden. As luck would have it, we've had nothing but sunny and warm days this past week. So the snow and ice are gone. Next week it's supposed to rain every day, so I'm glad I used this week to rake leaves and dead plants and fill the compost bin with them. I'll have a lot of good compost to add to the soil in the autumn. 

The snowdrops are blooming and the crocuses, daffodils, grape hyacinths and tulips are starting to poke their heads up from the soil. Spring is here, and soon it will be time for planting this year's vegetables and flowers. 





























And this is how it looked yesterday, April 7th--










Saturday, April 1, 2023

April garden update

Today, the first day of April, was an absolutely beautiful day in Oslo. No joke (since it's April Fool's Day); the temperatures were in the forties, the sky was blue and cloudless, and the sun shone down and warmed everything it touched. That's a good thing, because the garden has gotten a late start this year due to all the snow and cold we've had. I cannot remember a winter during the past thirty years that has had so much snow as this year's. There are still snow patches in the garden, and ice in the places where the sun hasn't reached yet. But if we have a week with the temperature we had today, the snow and ice will melt and we'll be on our way toward a real spring. And from what I can see of the weather forecast for the next week or so, no more snow is predicted, thankfully. I hope that is the case; you never know. 

I sowed out seeds in the greenhouse this past Wednesday and Thursday--pumpkin, zucchini, cucumber, cherry tomato, sunflower, cornflower, pot marigold, nasturtium, and rose mallow. I will sow out string bean seeds on Monday. I decided to sow out now rather than wait two more weeks. The greenhouse is nice and warm during the day, even though temperatures at night still dip to around freezing. But the seed containers are on raised benches, nowhere near the ground. So they'll be fine; that has been my experience in previous years. Some of my fellow gardeners call me an optimist because I sow out so early. But last year I waited too long--to mid-April--and the vegetable plant seedlings were a bit too small when I planted them outdoors. So it took time for them to grow large enough, which delayed their vegetable production. 

When the ground is completely ice-free and I can work the soil, I'll plant my seed potatoes. That will probably be somewhere around mid-April. I've already started cutting down and removing dead stems and leaves, and I've pruned the rose bush that adorns the garden arch, as well as the ninebark tree near the greenhouse. I'm hoping that pruning the rose bush will force growth on the stems growing on the sides of the arch so that when the roses bloom it doesn't look like a bouffant hairdo at the top of the arch--piled high on top and little on the sides. 

The snowdrops are finally blooming, and the grape hyacinth and daffodils are starting to come up. I haven't seen any crocuses yet, but I guess they'll bloom soon. I'm looking forward to my forsythia blooming; I have three bushes planted in different areas of the garden. They are one of my favorite spring flowers. The cherry tree and lilac bushes survived the winter, as did my wisteria and magnolia tree. The berry bushes always do well--black currant, red currant, blueberry and gooseberry. They come back each year without fail. 

I'll post some photos soon. In the meantime, for all the gardeners I know and for the gardeners who read my blog--happy gardening!

Monday, September 19, 2022

Late summer garden--photos

As promised, some recent photos of my garden (August and September). Autumn is approaching here in Oslo, and gardening season is winding down. I went to my garden today after having been traveling for almost two weeks. The summer asters are in full bloom, the climbing rose bushes have bloomed for the second time this summer, the coneflowers look beautiful (see photos), likewise (some of) the gladiolas (see photos). The giant sunflowers grew very tall while I was away; their height is impressive, at least eight feet (see photos). The other photos were taken during mid- to late-August, when gooseberries, red currants, black currants and raspberries were harvested. The Folva potatoes were harvested at the beginning of September. 

yellow coneflowers

coneflowers and gladioli

giant sunflowers


the (mostly) perennial garden


garden project for this year--assembling and painting a garden bench

a lot of zucchinis (as usual)--they're easy to grow

a good year for gooseberries

pumpkins 

a lot of potatoes (one type--Folva)




Saturday, September 3, 2022

Autumn is almost upon us (saying goodbye to the bumblebees)

The garden has an autumn feel to it these days. Outdoor temperatures are still around sixty-five degrees or so during the early to mid-afternoon, but once evening comes, it's chilly in the garden. And it gets dark much quicker now. I had my annual garden party for my friends/former colleagues this past Wednesday; it was a lovely sunny day but after 7 pm it got very chilly. We had a very nice time, and when they left, I cleaned up and headed for home (around 9:15 pm), at which point it was very dark in the garden. I kept expecting to meet the badger family that lives somewhere in the vicinity of the Gamle Aker church; I can always tell when they've visited my garden because they dig little holes in their hunt for insects and worms to eat. I don't find them bothersome, but they have been known to kill and eat chickens, which is exactly what happened recently to another allotment gardener who kept hens. We are not allowed to have hedgehogs in the garden for the same reason--badgers. 

Autumn is also the time of year when dead worker bumblebees are more visible, I assume because their lifespans are so short (about two to six weeks). That means many of them have been working beside me in the garden since late July/beginning of August. I have grown to love bumblebees; I call them the jumbo jets of the garden, as I've probably alluded to before. They are so bulky compared to honeybees and their buzz is louder. You hear them coming. There were many more bumblebees than honeybees this year, probably because the garden no longer has honeybee hives. Bumblebees are great little pollinators, and I love seeing my garden flowers covered with them. 

Last night, near my greenhouse, I came upon a rather disoriented bumblebee on the ground. She was clearly struggling to walk and fly. I picked her up carefully, put her in my palm and patted her gently. She clung to my fingers for dear life. I knew she was dying, so I found a pumpkin flower and placed her gently inside it and placed the flower under some larger leaves so she wouldn't be disturbed. I gave her a few drops of water and left for the evening. Today I came to the garden hoping against hope that she had only been tired and had flown away, but that was not to be. She had died. All part of the natural cycle of life and death, I know, but the death of this little creature tugged at my heart. I buried her in the pumpkin flower in the coral bell patch. I wish it wasn't so sad to lose them. Bumblebees work so hard collecting pollen that they bring back to the hive, they do their jobs, they don't live long, and they often die alone outside the hive. Not much of a life really. Perhaps that's why my heart goes out to them. I am always gentle with them, and I love watching them flit from flower to flower. Their little lives are precious to me, as are the lives of honeybees and most of the other insects in the garden. 

Who knew that having a garden would change me the way it has? I am sure other gardeners feel as I do. I don't want to kill insects for no reason. I don't want their needless deaths on my conscience. I know there are some readers who will ask me if I feel the same way about hornets and wasps. I don't know, honestly. I do know that I don't kill yellow jackets if I can help it. I swat them away but I don't kill them. They are irritating, but they are also little lives. They buzz around in search of food, and it's not their fault that nature outfitted them with a taste for barbecued meat. Trying to peacefully coexist with nature's creatures is the best policy in my opinion, although I know that it isn't always possible to do so. But we can do the best we can to not destroy their habitats, and in the case of bees and other insects, to create gardens that are inviting to them. Gardens that welcome their presence. 


Friday, August 26, 2022

Garden update--August 2022

June and July were busy months in the garden. I wasn't there as often as I would have liked due to vacation and family get-togethers (all enjoyable), but when I was there I was efficient. My project for this season was to rearrange/transplant many of the perennials from the main garden to other locations because they have grown so much in the past few years and need more space and increased air circulation. The hostas especially had grown quite big, but they were almost not visible because they were located at the back of the main garden behind some taller plants. Since I had to take up all of the strawberry plants this year to plant new ones, I decided to allocate some of the 'strawberry patch' space (two patches separated by the entrance path) to the hostas. When I took up the four hostas, they naturally split into three plants each, so that I was able to plant twelve new plants, six in each patch. They are doing quite well and are flowering. I also bought eighteen new strawberry plants and divided them between the two patches; I planted them below the hostas. They too are spreading out and doing well. I also transplanted an astilbe (false goat's beard) as well as a forsythia bush, and both are doing well. Online gardening sites don't recommend transplanting in the summertime, probably because temperatures are too warm. They suggest the autumn for such activities, but here in Oslo the summer temperatures have hovered around 70 degrees Fahrenheit. That is an optimal temperature to do transplanting; warm enough without being stifling hot for the plants. I water well before and after transplanting and for at least a week following transplanting. We've also had quite a bit of rain during early August, so that helped the plants to adapt and thrive in their new locations. 

The crane's bill plant had also become quite large and was starting to crowd the nearby Phlox and peony plants in the main garden. So I took it up and divided it in half, planting both halves along the street fence. The other crane's bill plant was transplanted from its location at the entrance garden arch to a place further along the path fence. All of them are doing well. 

I bought two new Phlox plants, a new astilbe, and a new coral bell plant--all perennials--and filled in the empty spaces with them. I really like Phlox plants; they come in many colors and have a lovely mild fragrance that you can smell when you get near them. I divided the summer aster plant in two and planted both in the main garden where the hostas used to be. One of them is flowering and the other is on the verge of doing so. 

Of six pumpkin plants, three have produced pumpkins of a good size. A fourth plant has just started to grow a pumpkin, but the growing season is winding down here, so I'm not sure how big this pumpkin will be. It was a banner year for raspberries, gooseberries, black currants and red currants. Ditto for the zucchini plants--how many zucchinis they produce--it's amazing! The cucumber plants have given us some nice-sized cucumbers, and the tomato plants are loaded with ripening tomatoes. My string bean plants did not do very well and I'm not sure why. Likewise my gladiolas; some have flowered, most have not. Those that have bloomed have 'faded-looking' flowers, white at the edges. Strange. I've never seen that before. I googled it and the online info said that the corms could be too old. Or that thrips may be a problem (but I haven't seen any sign of these bugs). My blackberry bush is not productive either, but it doesn't appear to be suffering from any infestation. Only one of my two American blueberry bushes produced berries, which I don't understand and have to read more about. The Norwegian blueberry bushes both produced berries. Both yellow coneflower plants are big and beautiful; I love them. The rhododendron bush has also grown larger this year; it's been more or less the same size since we rescued and planted it in the garden back in 2016. The magnolia tree is starting to grow taller. But the true beauty in the garden this year was my wisteria--it is growing and expanding like crazy, and flowered early on. I cut it back a few weeks ago and it still keeps on keeping on. My pride and joy. 

I have grown very fond of ground cover vegetation--pachysandra and hostas, for example. Pachysandra grows so well in my garden and is a hardy plant. It's also lovely to look at. Hostas likewise. The bumblebees love the hosta flowers, as do the honeybees. There were a lot of bumblebees in the garden this year and that was good to see. Some honeybees as well, but not as many as in previous years since the hives were removed from the garden. The bumblebees do a great job of pollinating plants, so there's no worries there. 

My final project for this gardening season was to assemble and paint a chemically-impregnated pine wood bench that I bought from an online garden store. I painted it a forest green color and am happy with the results. Both the impregnation and the paint are designed to withstand all sorts of weather conditions, so I'm hoping that bears out. August is nearly at an end, so it's just to enjoy the rest of it, which I plan to do now that most of the heavy garden work is done. Put my feet up and read a book!

Gardening season is winding down. Of course there will be a lot to do in the garden to prep it for the winter months, so I won't be out of work during the autumn months. I've cut down the old raspberry canes already because for some reason the new cane growth for each plant has been vigorous this year. I'm not the only one who has commented on that. 

The beauty of gardening is that from one year to the next there is always something new and different to tackle, understand, accept, and work around. There's never a dull moment in the garden. There's always work to do, and when you sit down to relax, the sparrows fluttering around and spraying water here and there in the birdbath will entertain you, as will the jumbo jets of the garden (my pet name for bumblebees). Watching them land on and take off from flowers will make you smile. If I am in a bad mood before I enter my garden, I leave with a better mood, a grateful heart, and a smile on my face. Nature has a way of centering me and making me realize what is important here in this life. And what is important is not what society says is important, that is for certain. 

I'll post some photos of my garden in my next post. 


Tuesday, May 3, 2022

A friendly visitor to the garden

There are cats that roam the neighborhood near the allotment garden, and every now and then they make their way into the garden to wander around. Last summer my garden was graced by a visit from one such cat, a black and white cat that is very friendly and docile. He found a cozy place on the floor of my greenhouse and promptly went to sleep for half an hour or so. After his nap he stretched and then moseyed on his way to visit someone else's garden.

The other day the same cat returned to the garden and found his way into my greenhouse. At this time of year the greenhouse is quite a nice place to be, cozy and warm. He jumped up onto one of the metal benches, made himself comfortable, and went to sleep for a half hour. Like last summer, I was able to snap a few photos of him. He is an affectionate and nice cat; he lets himself be petted and does not go after the birds in the garden (he is well-fed at home). Quite the opposite; it is the birds, mostly magpies and crows, that have harassed him to the point where he is forced to leave the garden. I have seen it happen once. They grab at his tail; when they did this last summer he did not fight back, rather choosing to leave the premises. 

I look forward to his visits. I am a cat lover, having had several cats up through the years. Becoming friends with this cat has made me want another cat, so we'll see what time brings. In any case, I hope he'll be a frequent visitor during the summer months. 




Thursday, March 24, 2022

Honeybees enjoying the snowdrops

It's still quite early in the season, but the snowdrops have bloomed first as they always do, providing food for the honeybees that are no longer dormant in their hives. We've had exceptionally nice weather in Oslo for the past two weeks, with daytime temperatures around 50 degrees F. So the bees are out in force during the early afternoon when the sun is at its warmest. I took this video the other day and wanted to share it with you. Turn up the volume for full effect!





Sunday, March 6, 2022

Harbingers of spring

How the snowdrops look now as of March 5 this year















How the snowdrops looked on March 16 of last year















Each year in March, the snowdrops make their appearance. They are the harbingers of spring, and my heart is overjoyed each time I see them. They are hardy flowers, poking up through the remaining snow and dead leaves covering the garden. They precede crocuses and hyacinths which make their appearance in April, closer to Easter. 

I love hardy flowers. I love anything that survives a tough environment. In that regard, I'm a fan of berry bushes too, as well as rhododendrons. Raspberry, gooseberry, blackberry, black currant and red currant bushes survive the cold winter and freezing temperatures and bloom like clockwork each year. There is something so heartening about a garden. It gives one something to believe in, especially when it seems that all hope is lost in the world. A garden provides hope. It is a place of renewal. It tells us that we can start again, start over, leave our winter souls behind and embrace the warm sunshine on our faces. I've often wondered what the world would be like without the sun. Life as we know it would end, of course, but I'm sure many people would commit suicide before that eventuality. Who would want to live in perpetual darkness? I suppose there is a good reason that Christ is seen as the light of the world; our souls do not have to live in darkness if we seek him. It seems that more than ever, we need to seek him, since our world is moving toward darkness. I will find him in my garden, that I know.  

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Dealing with honey fungus in the garden

Cultivating a garden each year is like taking a botany course with updates. Each year you learn something new. Every time you think that you've 'learned' what it takes to make plants happy, you find out (often the hard way) that you haven't. Sometimes you find out too that even if you've done everything in your power to keep your plants healthy and happy, it's not enough. There is evil lurking in the garden too, in the form of destructive pathogens that are just waiting to pounce when the time is right. I am learning that now. A pathogen called honey fungus has shown up in my garden, and has infected two plants--a blackberry bush and a rose bush. It's an insidious little underground creeper, as it sends out reddish-brown to black rhizomorphs that look like “bootlaces”. It spreads underground (up to three feet per year) infecting the root systems of susceptible trees and eventually killing them. It can also spread via spores. There is no chemical that can kill this fungus, and at present it is the most destructive fungal disease in gardens in the United Kingdom, according to my online research. 

One way to deal with this fungus is to completely dig out the stumps and roots of the infected tree(s). These should be removed from the infected area and destroyed. I have already done this with the blackberry bush, and will do the same with the rose bush come spring. They were very close to each other, no more than a couple of feet apart. I plan on letting the area where the infected trees have been, lie fallow for a year as well as on turning the soil in order to get rid of any rhizomorphs that may turn up. I had hoped to plant a new tree in this area, but this will have to wait a few years. I will have to move the birdbath to another area of the garden, since emptying the birdbath each day kept part of the area wet. But apparently plants get stressed by warm dry summers, and this makes them susceptible to attack. This past summer was warm and dry, at least in July and August. But June was rainy, as was September--very rainy. I would have thought that fungal infections would thrive in moist areas. Perhaps they do, after the plants have been weakened by too much warmth and dryness. 

There are many good garden sites online, the majority of them in the United Kingdom and the USA. I'm glad they exist, because you can get the advice and help you need very quickly. That helps me make the decisions I need to make. Some decisions need to be made immediately, like the decision to remove the blackberry bush and to cut down the rose bush to a stump. I'm hoping to stem the spread by doing this, because once winter comes, the fungus will die. But if it has spread widely underground, it will be a problem again come spring. 


Monday, August 23, 2021

The less pleasant underside of nature

There are a lot of spider webs in the garden this year, many more than I remember from last year. There must be a lot of insects out and about, judging by the number and placement of the webs. But I cannot remember that spiders spun webs in the raspberry bushes before. I came upon one of them yesterday, and noticed that there was a honeybee trapped in the web; the spider was close by. I decided to try to free the bee, but I took a photo of the spider and the bee before I wrecked the web trying to free the bee. As it turned out, the bee was stone dead, and nothing I tried could revive it. I didn't feel too bad about destroying the web because I felt it was for a good cause. I am partial to honeybees because they are hard workers and they don't bother you if you don't bother them. The same is true of spiders, and I usually don't destroy their webs or bother them in any way. So this was an unusual situation. 

While I was digging up potatoes yesterday, I came across a pile of what looked like small translucent pearls. I've seen them once before in the strawberry patch, a few years ago. They are rather pretty, but the slimy underside is that these are slug eggs, and not just any slug, but the brown Iberia slug (Spanish slug) that is a major pest in many gardens. From my online searches, I found that slug eggs are translucent when newly-laid and become more opaque over time. I also read that young adult slugs lay fewer eggs than older adult slugs. Our community garden board encourages us to get rid of them, so I did. I'm sure there are other piles of eggs placed around the garden; this particular pile was almost in plain view, which is a bit odd. In one of the eggs at the bottom left of the photo I took you can see a brownish line; I wonder if that is a baby slug forming. 

There is an underside to nature that isn't always pretty or pleasant. That underside is part of the entire picture--the positive and the negative, the light and the dark, the beauty and the ugliness, the predators and the prey, the plants and the slugs that eat them. That dichotomy is part of nature and part of life. 

The spider and the honeybee


Iberia slug eggs



Sunday, July 19, 2020

Mid-July garden update

Despite the incessant rain and unstable weather, despite the fluctuations in temperature, my garden is doing/has done a good job of producing zucchinis, strawberries, raspberries, and black currants. We won't get red currants this year, but we will get gooseberries. The pumpkin plants are starting to grow pumpkins, and we'll see how far they come along by the end of August. We will need more sun and warmth for them to grow and thrive. My potato and carrot plants will also yield potatoes and carrots, but they're not ready yet. Ditto for the tomato plants; I planted cherry tomato and full-size tomato plants. I'm unsure how well the string bean plants will produce; the slugs seem to like the leaves and chew them up so that the plants themselves become stressed and eventually die. The three corn plants are growing, but I don't hold out much hope for their producing full ears of corn before the summer warmth is over.

I post these garden updates for myself as much as for my readers. It helps me to keep track of my garden's progress each season. I definitely had beginner's luck with my fifteen corn plants during the first garden season; they grew well and produced at least twelve good ears of corn. It's been downhill ever since for success with corn. With each new gardening season, you learn something new and what not to focus on. The past two years have seen a lot of rain during the summer months here in Oslo, which is something that may force me to re-evaluate what I plant in the coming years.

One of the more interesting things that happened this year--I empty the compost bin at the end of the gardening season and spread the new earth onto the raised beds in preparation for the following year's plantings. Then I begin to fill the compost bin with the dead plants and refuse from the current season. I did that last autumn with the dead marigolds and cornflowers; amazingly enough, they began to grow and blossom on one side of the compost bin this year, as you can see from the second to last picture when you scroll down. So they must have seeded and been quite happy during the winter months, covered with new compost and kept warm until the spring. I also planted my giant sunflower plants (grown from seed in the greenhouse) behind the compost bin; I use the bin to support them and it is working out well so far.

Here are some photos of how the garden looks right now:

Astilbe plant--red goat's beard

the pumpkin patch

behind the greenhouse

tomato plants

zucchinis growing

more zucchinis


raspberry bushes

gooseberry bush

flower garden 

close-up of flower garden

strawberry patches (harvest is pretty much over for this year)


rose mallows growing

Veronica spicata plant (the bees love it)

a rare sunny day in the garden this year

lots of raspberries this year

a type of marigold 


sunflower plants behind the compost bin, and marigolds and cornflowers to the left




black currants


The surreal world we live in

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