Much like a cabbage, dear reader, you’re all heart (And hopefully green enough to believe that). The first of, many by the looks of what remains, the cabbages have been harvested. They’re exactly what I wanted, small, tightly headed cabbages, grown for my mother, but also for people we like. There are so many kinds of cabbage out there, whereas cauliflower and broccoli rarely offer much in variety. If I were very skilled at planning, and the weather held, I might have been able to grow another set. Maybe in the future. I’m not a cabbage fan myself, but I have plenty of everything else in the garden to keep me going. The basil is back again, the weather was warm today so it should be perfect to harvest again soon. This is real organic gardening. A warning for the squeamish: You may want to just skip ahead. Okay, we all ready? Yeah, it isn’t that bad, just really natural. The first cabbage had been ravaged by caterpillars, or just one which I caught in time, the heart was pristine thankfully. The other, well it had damage, but it was’t so bad. Though it was covered in slugs, a spider and a few earwigs. It was torn apart and blanched after cleaning.
Everything in the garden is harvested, prepared and frozen to maximise its taste. They’re pretty undamaged, the mesh covering them from the start was the right call. There are some vegetables that will be stored rather than frozen. The onions are getting large, some very large, I’m getting hyped about them a little. It seemed as if they’d never swell and would remain as tall tops until they bolted. The shallots will be stored too, when the tops yellow and wither I’ll uproot them. You put a fork under them I’ve been told as pilling the tops can cause damage. The purple garlic still lives too, I’m amazed after what happened to the rest, but it is in a cooler spot. Hopefully the bulb will separate into cloves and I can get a few for reseeding. When curing garlic you hang it by the stem and as it dries up the stem feeds the bulb and enhances the flavour. You earn a lot by doing, I’m even going to look into planting by the moon. I might have scoffed once, but after losing a few broccoli to bolting I’m more and more open minded to any help.
The potatoes are getting there too, they’re starting to yellow and wilt. There’s always a fear that here will be nothing in the pot, but dirt. I’ve been lucky before so it should be fine. Both the seed potatoes and organic fertiliser were bought in the discount store. The blue potatoes were free, they’ll be a while longer and won’t be so plentiful as I only had two and split them. In the potato corner, you tend to section things off that way in your head as it makes it easier to plan and maintain, there are still huge artichoke stems, no flowers yet, they may need a year to establish as they were just little bulbs when I got them. The asparagus is still there, that’ll be next year’s harvest too. The rhubarb that I bought alongside the ginger, which rotted due to bad weather, is starting finally. It’s Champagne, which we were looking for for it’s sweetness. It’s strange that these plants will be harvested and leave a gap in the garden where they were.
I’ve also used the first of the comfrey tea. Urk. Excuse me. I had to dilute it quite a bit as it was very strong. Hurk. No, I’m fine. Joking, but it does smell revolting, even when diluted. I put it on my tomatoes in the greenhouse and on a hot day too. It’s disgusting in there currently, hopefully it’ll fade during the night. When this runs out I may try making compost tea. The bucket I added the tap to worked perfectly. You don’t want to spill this on yourself. I smell faintly of cabbage already, can’t seem to get that smell out, I don’t need to smell like fermented death. How can a plant stink like that? I tell you, dear reader, I have no idea what I’ll get out of all this, but I’m enjoying it. Take care and don’t drink any comfrey tea from strange bottles. Words to live by.