homegrown | horticultural 'obbit

Hello, folks, how are we?

We’re currently in that funny window that is the twelve days of Christmas. As such, my heart and stomach are both full, and my brain at bit fuzzy.

Other than books, and writing, I’ve had another thought on my mind.

Chillies. The sowing, growing and cultivation thereof.

When seed sowing, I would traditionally start chillies from seeds around about Boxing Day. I am….two days over. I’ve yet to get fresh dirt under my fingernails, but you might. Thought I should share some ideas, and there’s a fair bit about chillies on the blog that you can look at to also support you.

So let me get this out of my system, before I forget or The Muse has a strop and walks off.

(The Muse has plans for the next for few days when it comes to writing, so we’re going to let him do his gardening thing whilst we have his attention. Every now and again, he goes into full bounce mode and I end up writing like a woman possessed. It’s an interesting experience.)

Chillies. What do you fancy?

There are what I call the standard ones, the cayennes, and there are super hots and habaneros. In my experience, the hotter, more potent that chillies are, the more difficult they are to grow. There are, therefore, things to keep in mind.

I’ve always sown chillies in pellets, in warm, moist compost. That is then put into heated propagator. This is the bottom heat that chilli seeds benefit from. However, what I have observed is that how long the seed case takes to crack will depend on the scoville rating of the chilli. That is to say, how hot they are. You can also, sow in a small pot, cover with a food bag and put some where hot, and light. Here in England, at this time of year, those two things are fairly thin on the grown. Hence using a heated prop. Don’t leave your compost outside. Bring in a bit, and keep it warm. You won’t need much. But that feeling of bare feet on cold kitchen tiles? If you don’t like it, what makes you think a seed will?

I have the impatience of a saint, when it comes germination. I wait, and I wait. But it annoys me, as its never quick enough. Alas, patience has to be germinated in the same way as a seedling. It takes time.

(Gardening has the most beautiful spiral curriculum; teaches you things other hobbies don’t. Gardening and mental health, for example, is a whole other blog post. Another time, maybe. The Muse is on one.)

Compost has to warm up, to reach the appropriate temperature. Also, don’t make the compost too damp. This will water log the seed, and it will rot.

Chilli seeds can either be as cheap as chips with a cayenne, or half a kidney with super hots, more specific. Being diligent, pays dividends. Or in our case, pays in chillies. Take a look at what interests you. I loved growing super hots and habaneros.

Tried -and failed-to grow the dorset naga. But why grow pointless stuff? Think about it. As much as I love experiments-I do, I love them, do them all the time; but think about the end, the equity at the end of it.

Grow the chilli that you are going to use, the chilli that is going to be meaningful and have the desired outcome.

Germination is going to take time, and not all your chilli seeds are going to germinate. Take the wins, learn from the losses. The hotter the chilli, the longer you are going to be pacing the floor.

Once you do have seedlings, remove them from a heated propagator (If you have used one) There is every danger now, that the seedlings are going to be thin, wiry and likely to keel over. They are ‘leggy; as they search for light, and are heliotropic. They are growing towards heat and light. This is both exhilarating and down right scary; you may end up with fewer seedlings still.

Proper chilli heads, would remove, possibly pot on-from pellet to pot-and place under heat lamps. I don’t do that, but I have coddled them. Placed a plastic food bag over the top of a pot, secured with an elastic band to do the window sill shuffle in the pursuit of the warmest place in the house.

Then, you wait. You watch. You observe the seedling do it’s thing. To send out a proper set of leaves, for the stem to thicken as it starts to anchor itself. Once that proper set of leaves appear, take away the cover. Be vigilant and mindful still. A passing breeze may fell the thing yet.

Hence the coddling.

Your chillies, if sown now, are going to be around for a while. Until at least May, and when the night temperature is 10 degrees or above. Between now and then, cultivation is the name of the game. A long growing period, if managed effectively will lead to a good fruiting period.

In May, the chances of frost-here in Birmingham, UK, disappear. I’ve taken my chances before and put chillies in the poly-when I had one-but they’ve lived mostly in a conservatory.

For now, sow the seeds. Keep your fingers crossed.

Oh, and step away from the tomatoes and aubergines for now.

Not yet, people. Not. Yet.

It’s definitely summer; the rain has been coming down in sheets and for days. On the allotment, the tomatoes that I planted out are having something of a sulk. However, the gladioli that were sunk, are starting to shoot through. I still have fifty or so to sink, so that’s an action point.

And the other plot blooms are starting to kick off as well. For me, summer on the allotment is framed by the bloom and blossom of roses. There are well over a dozen bushes on the plot, and these have been developing over the course of years. Roses do not grow on quickly, they take time to establish. As such, I’ve had mine for some time, and summer always feel incomplete when they aren’t abundant. Abundant they will be if there is enough rain, heat and light to keep them going. Over the last week, there’s certainly been a lot of rain, which was prefaced by really quite glorious warmth and sunshine.

As you can see, I have harvested the first bouquet of the year. Compared to this time last year, this is really quite something. There was a distinct lack of roses last year, so I am somewhat buoyed to have bouquet of this size and quality. I don’t actually know what any of these are called; these are all lost label roses. There are those who have a small, neat bush-rose quality, as well as those that are sprawling, scrambler type roses. I know one of them is called Golden Showers, as these features in the middle of the plot by William Shakespeare 2000.

I’m not a stickler for perfection. All of these roses are unique, and I tend to cut them once they’ve been on the bush for a few days. Some rose bushes do tend to be more abundant than others, and I guess regular cutting is a bit like dead-heading. Beyond that, I don’t fuss over my roses. It really has been a case of plug in play. Don’t be fooled though. As pretty as these things are, they have the most vicious thorns known to man, with some main stems as thick as your thumb. There were a couple of bushes that had been storm-damaged with main-stems snapped off. These were tidied up and staked with canes.

From time to time, I do think how much these rose bouquets might be worth in terms of pounds and pence. In terms of universal force and beauty, they are of course priceless; there is no value to how much they colour soul or demonstrate the power of the universe. These are home-grown, in the middle of the England; they’ve not been flown in or coddled to an inch of their lives. These don’t have air miles, so are unlikely cost half a kidney, I guess.

One of the biggest day-dreams that I have, is that if I ever get married, I’d like to take my allotment roses as bouquet. That does depend on A) getting married, and B) the event being in summer, well up to October. I guess a girl can dream!

I might have got a bit wet whilst going to harvest the roses…

I’ve dried off now; I really did get a bit soggy. There’s a book waiting to be read, and the tail-end of Poldark Season 4 to watch. Writing still feels a little distant right now, but the pens are tingling. So you never know!