To Old Acquaintances and Happier Days

I've been trying hard to climb out of this pit of despondency, each time I get half way up the slope the rain starts and washes me back to the bottom again. It's cold down here, and very muddy. Enough to make anyone cry.

Been trying to formulate the words for this blog entry. I wanted big plans, empire building, hope, light at the end of the tunnel, enormous erections and all the rest. Couldn't find any of those words but this evening, waiting for the clock to tick over and after a bottle and a half of good wine at least I have the energy to start.

So where to next? If only the weather would turn the corner into warmth the pull of the spring tide might drag me along. Seedlings of hope, blind faith in the future exhibited by all nature, the tingle of sunlight in my veins. I yearn for these things.

That's not to say that the weather now is not fit for the season, clear and crisp and cold it should be bracing. It's also killing plant pathogens and discouraging pests. A silver lining masked by the frosty indifference of winter but essentially I was built for a Mediterranean climate. I want to kick my shoes off and run on the sands of summer.

There is a big birthday coming for me in October. It's undeniably time I got a grip. Resolutions are futile and I regularly resolve not to make any but this year, this year really must go somewhere.

Happy New Year. Normal self sufficency blogging will be resumed soon, probably, but for the moment I want to reach out to anyone there and say Hello for new beginnings.

Seedy

Part of the failed bean experiment from last year.

It's that time of year, and although I'm mostly concentrating on a huge midwinter festivity blowout for the family, it's impossible to ignore the seed catalogues dropping onto the mat along with the cards. It's exciting, and my enthusiasm for finding new varieties to try is only tempered by the logistics of making so many small orders in so many directions. I expect to use at least six different suppliers and have seeds on promise from various seed swappers and friends abroad.

A few days ago we received the Heritage Seed library list and I've been poring over that, anxious to find something that is both worth saving and fits in with my plans for planting next year.

I've been a member (or on a shared membership) of the HSL for many many years and have always felt they were worthy of support for their aims, but as time has gone on I am beginning to develop doubts. As I write this I'm aware that these issues are not limited to the HSL so should be read as a general essay on my feelings about seed saving although I have used them as my example.

Tbere are, I think, three main issues that bother me.

I'm not comfortable with the way material is included in the seed bank. Seeds for preservation are acquired in several ways, sometimes remaindered stock from a certified supplier is donated but other times seeds are offered by members of the public who have inherited them, been saving them for themselves over a period or have brought them back from holiday, the greengrocer's or whatever.

When the provenance is reasonably well documented e.g from a commercial source some confidence can be placed in the identification and purity of the variety to be saved. Several of the older heritage seeds have had learned academia researching them and are supported by this in their identification but the seeds supplied by the general public from private resources are almost entirely anecdotal in their history. I look at the massive variety of tomatoes or beans and cannot but have doubts that some of these seeds are not unique strains but a mish mash of misremembered names, crossed accidents and duplications.

Then we have the actual method of preserving the varieties. I know myself how difficult it is to maintain any particular strain in a amateur garden. With, genuinely, the greatest respect to the Seed Guardians who I am sure try extremely hard to protect the purity of their charges how certain can we be that the actual characteristics of the varieties are being preserved? Indeed, with the poor histories of many types, do we even know what those characteristics are?

Secondly, has the direction of the organisation become muddled? The need to protect diversity in the gene bank is well established for sound scientific reasons even if we ignore the simple joy of revelling in the wonderful multifariousness of nature but by including any and all possible genetic material for general distribution is there a risk of swamping the pool with stuff that might just as well have been left behind? Not all heritage vegetables are delicious. Some are difficult to get right under any conditions. Some are barely improvements on the wild stock and as I said above, some of the varieties offered seem to have been compromised or offer no advantage over other stronger candidates. There is a dichotomy between selection for the gardener and pure scientific rigour and I think the line has become blurred.

Thirdly, the aims of the organisation are to maintain old varieties and distribute them. Weird terms and conditions of use make me uncomfortable but do nothing to actually protect the open source material. I don't want to become responsible for policing a good will system, nor do I want my participation trammelled by vague stipulations, half voiced obligations or unspecified intimations of legal proceedings. Either there is a clear legal contract or the stuff is out there. I do sympathise with organisers and abhor commercial exploitation of private effort but find the unloading of these concerns onto the member's remit to be distressing and unnecessary.

So all in all, I think seed savers are losing their way a bit. Easy to bitch and now I'm a bit more settled again I should probably volunteer to help by growing some varieties for seed and generally trying to support rather than criticise but my feelings on this are really quite strong. We must not become complacent because any one organisation has taken on a general responsibility and we must not allow British good manners to prevent us from identifying problems, getting them corrected and achieving excellence.

Do support the HSL and other seed saving initiatives. Do plan for diversity and variety in your gardens but have some awareness of what you're doing and why it is being done.

What the Hunters do...

In the forest there are many types of animal. Some are bold and can be observed going about their business each day, others are very secretive and shy.

Although when we arrived we were told that the forest contained many deer, it was the wild boar that made the stuff of legend. Everybody knew somebody who had just missed one on the road, or worse, had crashed their car because of one. The stories gain details in the retelling, huge tusks, families of piglets, ferocious sows attacking picnickers and so on. We saw the deer, we never saw the boars and so we discounted them as rural myths, like big cats on Exmoor or the Loch Ness Monster.



In the night, this poor creature found its way to our yard and died, in pain and distress. His front leg shot away, his lower jaw missing.

We don't doubt the wild boars in our woods any more.

Buttering Medlars

Bletted Medlars showing the formation of the seed capsule inside the fruit.

It seems rather odd to have come back to writing this blog; still feel rather dissociated from it.

Anyway, it's medlar time of year again and in previous years I've made jelly and last year medlar and japanese quince jam. I wanted a change. We love the jelly but there's a limit to how many jars of sweet stuff a small family can consume in a year.

One recipe I've kept in my favourites for some time is this one, Theodore Garrett's Medlar Cheese, recorded by Historic Food. I really wanted to make those divine little moulded shapes but I don't have any moulds which rather inhibits that plan. I did have perfectly bletted medlars so I decided to give it a go and set the paste in tiny dipping sauce bowls and espresso cups.

Bletting (or bringing to a point of rotteness) medlars is pretty easy but you want them to mature without becoming infected with fungal colonies or mildews, so it helps to have them in an airy place during the process so that nothing too noxious can start to grow. I had mine for two weeks in an unglazed earthenware dish on the cool side of the kitchen and it worked beautifully.

I decided to follow the recipe exactly as this was a first for me, I've never actually made fruit cheeses or pastes before. Immediately I got stuck because of a lack of equipment. The fruit is supposed to be softened in a jar heated in a pan of simmering water. I don't have a suitable jar/pan combination. After some thought it seemed possible to substitute for this by using a covered glass casserole in a baking pan of water in the oven (about 150C). This worked well but took over three hours before I felt the fruit was soft enough to sieve.

From my 1.3kg medlars (all I could fit in the pan) I took a yield of 840g hard won sieved medlar flesh. I do hate rubbing things through a sieve and would recommend you use a mouli if you have one.

After adding the sugar (375g sugar to 500g medlar pulp) the mixture is supposed to be stirred over the heat until it leaves the sides of the pan clean. I found the paste so thick already that this happened almost immediately and so I suspect I didn't cook it quite long enough. I filled my little cups but after a while setting they showed no signs of firming up enough to slice which would justify them the title of a fruit 'cheese' so I've decided to call it butter. The bulk of the recipe has been potted in jam jars but the scrapings and leftovers have been spread into a shallow tray and returned to the barely warm oven to dry out for a few hours and make fruit jelly sweets. The flavour is lovely, I don't think anything will be wasted.

Nothing like

a bonfire for a clearout. Four leylandii, two elderberries and the scrap from a sycamore and an ash tree reduced to ash.

The long straight bits of the ash and sycamore have been reserved for green woodworking over the winter break.

The View from Thoreau.

I do not know how to distinguish between our waking life and a dream. Are we not always living the life that we imagine we are?

I am not within the life I imagine and my inspiration is gone. A momentary lapse of reason meant that the blog nearly disappeared entirely, but for the time being I've decided to let it sit and bide its time until I'm ready to try again.

Gone Away

Blogs may be resumed in the future or never.

Thanks for reading.