Let There Be Light

One of the reasons I became a gardener is that I need lots of sunshine. Most Winters I'd happily hibernate and by February I'm hanging on by my fingernails. This year's been not bad though, and I put that down to lashing out on an SAD lamp and an alarm clock which simulates dawn. No more abrupt awakening on bleak black mornings for me. It's worked like a charm, and despite all the hassles of recent months I've remained reasonably unruffled. You may be cynical but all I'm saying is that sunlight gives me energy.
So it is with plants.Sunlight powers photosynthesis,  the mechanism which turns soil, air and water into plants. Once your seedlings have germinated it's important that they receive adequate light, or they will put their energy into stretching towards the light instead of becoming strong and stocky. Professional growers spend huge sums on artificial lighting as it's a cost-effective investment. 
We don't need to go to these lengths, unless we're trying to grow giant veg or unseasonal crops or living in areas with low light levels. If you're growing seedlings on a windowsill a reflector will help, or simply being patient and sowing two or three weeks later will make a difference. Low light levels and high temperatures are an unhealthy mix, so it's better to turn down the heat. Slow steady growth will be more pest and disease resistant than plants which have been forced.
Here endeth the lesson. Hope I've not bored you, but I do feel this subject is neglected in most books.

  

At long last - Spring!

As I was locking up the other night I noticed one of my favourite rhodies had suddenly burst into full bloom. Hurrah, let's hope this five month winter is finally over! Sure enough, buds are opening , birds are singing and believe it or not I'm happy to see the weeds are growing. The wheel turns, even if it's grindingly, achingly slow sometimes.

I'm going to spend to-day zhuzhing-up the front garden and making a start on my cut flower patch by planting sweet peas. I usually go for the sugared almond shades, but this year I noticed "Miss Wilmott", for sale. It's a lovely mixture of hot colours. A dwarf form, "Bijou", is also ready to leave the cold greenhouse, I'm going to try it in a large pot placed at head height so I can savour the scent.

In the vegetable kingdom I was delighted to see cauliflower, broccoli and leeks had germinated without the help of heating; I've grown so used to using heating mats it seemed little short of miraculous. It will be interesting to see if they catch up with the earlier sowings I made.

Now, please don't misunderstand my interest in peat free compost. I've driven across Ireland, which I love, and I can't see that destroying peatbogs is necessarily a bad thing. The trade has been instructed however to cut back on the use of peat and to give it up completely by 2020. And I know this winter may have made some people cynical about global warming, but as we're on the same latitude as Moscow this winter will seem mild if melting ice caps dilute the Gulf Stream. So I've got to find an alternative. The experiment of using leafmould with a pinch of blood, fish and bone as an alternative to peat seems to have been successful, there's no difference between the tomato and lettuce seedlings I pricked out into this mix and those in a good quality commercial compost. Those who're looking for peat alternatives might want to check out biochar; sold under the name of "Carbon Gold" it has had good reviews in Horticulture Week. I'm certainly going to try it as soon as it's available. 

Happy Easter one and all. The picture below was the view from the living room window on Thursday. The blizzard had also taken down the phone and power lines but at least I could still make a cup of tea on the camping stove. We've lost 35 panes of glass from the greenhouses just from the sheer weight of snow, and of course it's stopped work on the new poly tunnel which is being built to replace the houses we lost in January. So we're nearly all out of space and we've still got loads of stuff to do. I'm hoping it will thaw soon so I can put the hardier plants outside in order to free up room for those hideous pom-poms on sticks, the African Marigolds. I've cut down the amount of these over the years, but there aren't many plants which flower non-stop for four months without dead-heading. If anyone's got any ideas on Parks bedding, even if it's turf over the lot, I'd be glad to hear your views.

Chocolate

Chocolate was a tiny little kitten found lurking round the bins at the Big House four or five years ago. Our previous mouser, Smokey, had given us eighteen years of loyal service despite having to share her food with a robin and a blackbird, so I figured the greenhouses couldn't be too bad a billet. I took her to the vet then after recuperation she moved into the walled garden and soon became indispensable. She's got a lovely nature and has learned not to walk on the seedlings. Like all proud mamas I think she's beautiful and clever. Not only has she dealt with the mice, she can also take out pigeons and small rabbits. She enjoys going out with us when we're working on the shrubberies, but is very wary of  dogs and bolts up the nearest tree if one appears.Here she is guarding a tray of Digitalis purpurea Alba, destined for the Rangers' carpark.

Welcome to my world. If home is where the heart is, then this must be my kitchen. This is the seedhouse, one of six heated houses where we grow the flowers for the county. ''We'' are the two Fi's, Ped, Ronnie, myself and Chocolate the cat. It takes just over 100,000 plants to fill our parks and streets with colour each spring, so the next few weeks are a race against time. About 95% are raised from seed,  some are cuttings from overwintered stock and the rest are bought in as tiny plugs when  it is more economical to do so. This is because tuberous begonias and geraniums need to be started in January, and the heating costs then would be prohibitive.
In the seedhouse I have the luxury of four thermostatically controlled mats so I can germinate several different varieties at one time. The sowing schedule needs to be carefully considered to allow for differing germination times, temperatures, seed to flower periods and to ensure a reasonably steady flow of seedlings ready to be pricked out into their sixpacks. It's more straightforward than it perhaps sounds, the tricky bit is keeping them in good condition until they're all planted out in June.
So begins another Spring. Antirrhinum first, next lobelia, cineraria, dianthus and aster; these have already germinated and we've pricked out the last two. To-morrow we'll do the antis, and I'll sow ageratum, dahlia and impatiens this week. To watch the houses fill is so satisfying, in a couple of weeks space will grow tight and we'll have to put the hardier specimens outside and keep a very close watch on the sky. Wish me luck!

Grow grow grow grow Blossom!