The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 46 – Cthulhu Carrots Conclusion

This was my first time growing carrots, and whilst I could have been happier with the results, it would not be by much. Despite slight rodentous setbacks in the spring and some minor slug trouble throughout, the final result exceeds expectations.

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They could be left in the ground and still grow for a bit, but some plants caught powdery mildew on their leaves, so I decided to harvest them all at once. I did not expect that I would fill a wheelbarrow to the extent that it nearly disappears under the leaves.

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I rinsed them in the wheelbarrow, I laid them out like rabbits after a hunt, and I took my parents out to admire them.

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© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

The seed packets said that this variety can grow up to 17 cm in length. I had many that exceeded that, which I did not expect. And I certainly did not expect a 25 cm long, 7 cm thick, and 835 gram heavy behemoth. This single carrot is more than we usually eat in a fortnight. I have never seen a carrot this big.

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© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

As a Terry Pratchett fan, I would feel cheated if my multifurcated carrots did not produce at least some humorous-looking vegetables. I did not get any that look like a man’s, you know… unless you really, really want to see it. But I did get one that looks like a tentacular horror from nightmares. It was not the biggest one, but it was respectably big nevertheless. Apart from that, I had fewer multifurcated roots than I expected, which is a good sign.

Thus, the conclusion to this year’s carrot experiment is a good one. I harvested 13.8 kg of reasonably sized carrot roots, and it would be more if not for the rodents. I haven’t seen any root damaged by carrot flies or wireworms, so pairing the carrots with onions appears to have worked against these particular pests. Planting pre-germinated seeds in paper egg trays worked really well, too, although the carrots were a bit cramped towards the end of the year (no wonder, they got huge). Next year, I will probably tear off individual egg cups from the trays and space them out a tiny bit more, now that I know the roots can get thicker than my wrist.

I sorted out all the small ones, cut them into pieces, and put them into the freezer. I am considering what to do with the big ones. We cannot eat them all now, we cannot freeze them, and I do not have the space to store them fresh for long either. I will probably dehydrate some and can some too. The dehydrators are currently full of plums, but that should be finished tomorrow, or on Monday at the least.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 45 – Terminating Tomatoes

Outdoor temperatures plummeted at the beginning of this week; we went from 28 °C to just 8°C in one day. That is quite the temperature shock, I tell you. And the weather forecast said that we will have temperatures as low as 5°C at night. Anything below 20°C stops tomatoes from ripening, and below 10°C, they effectively start dying and are more likely to rot than to ripen. So I had to dig out my outdoor tomatoes, which are still about 90% green without a trace of red.

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There are several ways to deal with this. The easiest way is probably to make chutney, like Giliell mentioned. I do not like green tomato chutney, and I have enough pumpkin mustard to satisfy my condiment needs for a long time. And this is estimated to be 8 kg of tomatoes, which would be way too much for a condiment anyway.

I tried these three methods in those years in which I managed to protect my outdoor tomatoes from blight:

  1. Cut whole clusters, even with a part of the stem, and hang them in the greenhouse/indoors. This works best for indeterminate varieties where the plants are huge and where the whole clusters tend to ripen at once, and when the fruit is at full size and just about to ripen.
  2. Dig out the whole plants, tie them up, and hang them upside down in the greenhouse/indoors. This works best for determinate tomatoes that make small plants, and the fruits are just about to ripen, too.
  3. Dig out the whole plants, cut off all non-fruit-bearing vines and most of the leaves, and put the roots in a bucket with slightly wet but not soggy soil. This works best for determinate tomatoes when the plants are manageably small and the fruit might need a bit more time to start ripening.

And since I grew determinate tomatoes this year, and I am not sure how much time the fruits still need, I used method 3. I had 8 plants, so I put 3 or 2 in a bucket. The soil at this stage only serves as a buffer against the plants losing moisture too quickly, so it does not matter that they are cramped in there. I also had to support the plants with wooden stakes in order to be able to handle them more easily.

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These methods are based on my personal experiences, so the results I got over the years might have been just a fluke. I am not inclined to search for scientific studies about any of this. There is not much else I can do anyway, except toss it all. This way, I hope that at least some, if not most, ripen. Last time I did this bucket method, about 50% of the fruit ripened enough to be edible, and I would call that a win this year, too. Tomatoes are expensive.

 

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 44 – Froot Frenzy

This year was really good for fruit trees and bushes of all kinds. I already mentioned the overabundance of raspberries, and it did not end there. I only have two tiny blueberry bushes, but they were covered in fruit too. And the rootstock of my plum delivered, for the first time ever, not just an occasional fruit here and there, but several kg of them.

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I finally went to the trouble of identifying it, and it is the so-called “myrabelan plum”. The fruit is sweet, but the flesh cannot be separated from the stone. Usually it was not a problem, since we had always so few I managed to eat them fresh. However, I cannot eat several kg of fruit, so we decided to make a marmelade. And we found out that the fruit can be shortly boiled in a small amount of water and then pressed through a colander. The stones and skins remain behind, and the pulp goes through. Some of the pulp is lost, as it remains clinging to the stones, but it is quick and efficient enough.

Here are the ingredients my mother used to make the marmalade:

4 kg of myrabelan plums, 7 apples, 2 kg of sugar, 80 g of vanillin sugar, 1 teaspoon of citric acid, a pinch of salt, 80 g of gelling agent.

The resulting marmalade is a bit sour, which suits me just fine.

The plum tree is so covered with fruit that two branches broke. I will have to cut them off later in the fall and sanitize the cuts, although the tree is probably approaching the end of its life.

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There is probably over 100 kg of fruit in that single tree. The traditional way of using it is to make moonshine, but I do not drink hard liquor, and it is a rather laborious way to make window cleaner. So we probably won’t be able to use all, or even most of it. I harvested five buckets so far. I swapped one bucket with my neighbor for pears, one we gave away and today I de-stoned another bucket, cut them in half, and put them into dehydrators. They are surprisingly healthy – there were barely any worms in them, and I had to throw away just a few out of the whole bucket.

Whilst I was making prunes, my mother was making compotes. She stacked de-stoned and halved plums into jars, and once the jars were full, she covered them with a hot syrup made from 1,5 l of water and 1 kg of sugar with a pinch of salt. On top of each jar, she then poured 1 teaspoon of rum and closed it with a sterilized lid while still hot. After that, she sterilized the jars in the oven for 50 minutes at 80°C. This way, the plums do not completely soften into a soft mush, and they can still be used for pies or dumplings.

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My apple tree has died due to vole damage, but a few years ago, I managed to graft two twigs on some unknown apple that sprouted between my aronia and the bird feeder. I think it is the rootstock of an apple tree that was planted there by my grandfather and that had to be felled when I was about 10 years old. The grafts did bear fruit a few years ago, and this year they have outdone themselves. I had to support the branches with aluminium bars, otherwise they would surely break. I have been eating apples for breakfast for two weeks, and there is still more than enough on the tree. We will probably have to dry them too. Well, dried fruit is certainly a healthier snack than chips.

 

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 43 – Picking Potatoes

The potatoes were done growing, so I started to harvest them slowly the last week and I raked my way through the piled-up moss, compost, and soil.

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The moss did not decompose much, but it did mostly die at least. And it certainly performed the task that I had in mind for it – it completely suffocated everything under it. The potato harvest was not spectacular, but I did not expect it to be.

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I got about 50 kg of reasonably sized potatoes. I was hoping for a bit more, but I cannot complain, since I planted very small leftovers from last year. There were three problems with this crop this year – first, the plants were damaged by late frost, then they suffered through drought. Those that survived it did bounce back in July, and unlike pumpkins, they did thrive in the wet and cold weather. And then they suffered a third plague – rodents. A lot of tubers were damaged or completely eaten by voles. But we still have a lot of dehydrated potatoes from last year, and 50 kg of fresh potatoes should get us through the winter for foods where dehydrated potatoes do not work well.

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The soil under the patches is now bare. I will pile up the moss in one heap and mix it with calcium cyanamide. That way, it should compost until spring, and I can use it to cover potatoes the next year, too. I will try to plough the bare patches of soil now to cultivate them. If I manage to do that, I will plant either beans or peas the next year in there. If I do not manage to do that, I will plant beans.

Next year, I will buy proper seed potatoes, and at least part of them will be planted properly underground. But I will also choose another grassy spot and do this method again. Potatoes are a lot of work in the spring and in the fall, but they are a fairly low-maintenance crop. And growing something means less grass to mow and more food to eat.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 42 – Making Mustard

I was optimistic about my pumpkins at the beginning of the season, then I was a bit pessimistic, and in the end, I was sorely disappointed. Not only did I only get one fruit per plant, but the fruits I got were barely larger than an apple. Overall, I got only 4,5 kg Hokkaido pumpkins, which barely covered the costs of seeds and certainly did not cover the labor. My neighbor, whom I gave some surplus seedlings in the spring, has the same experience. One family friend, whom I gave some seedlings as well, did have a good harvest, though. But I do not know what the microclimate in her garden is; it is a few hundred m away from mine, and it might just be that she has slightly higher temperatures. One to two degrees °C certainly do play a role.

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They were rock-hard and I got about 2,5 kg of edible flesh out of them. Not worth doing something big, so I decided to make just mustard from all of it. The recipe is based on the one that I posted last year, only I changed the ingredients a bit:

grated pumpkin  – 2600 g
3 yellow bell peppers
vinegar – 490 g
sunflower oil – 325 g
honey – 180 g
salt – 80 g
white pepper – 2 teaspoons
soy sauce – 6,5 soup spoons
shroomce – 3 soup spoons
mustard seed – 240 g

I also had to add some water; the pumpkins did contain too little on their own. The resulting mustard is spicier than the one I made last year, and it also is not as smooth – I forgot to soak the mustard seeds the day prior, and they were a bit tough with just a few hours soak. But it is tasty and I got 23 glasses in the end.

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It was a lot of work; I spent the whole day with it, and today, I spent another hour sterilizing them so they form a vacuum seal and, hopefully, hold longer. I will give some away to people who I know like it, but even with that, I should have enough mustard for over a year, and the added vallue almost, though not entirely, makes it worth the effort.

For the next year, I have already bought pumpkin seeds exclusively from the one supplier that had consistent and quick germination across. I cannot change the weather, but whilst that did play a role, it was not all. That I had trouble germinating the seeds in the spring, and thus most of my plants started to grow fairly late, also played a role, as well as the fact that I planted them into uncultivated parts of my garden in the experimental three sisters system.

Speaking of which, the sweet corn was a complete disaster.

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I got barely one dinner’s worth. Out of more than 100 plants, just a handful produced female blossoms, very late after the male ones and thus the pollination was very poor on those. I am seriously considering if it is worth trying corn the next year too, or if I should forgo this crop completely. When I was a kid, corn was actually grown in the fields around here, and it did produce edible ears regularly, so I am not entirely sure what I am doing wrong. I had one good harvest a few years ago, and ever since, it has gotten worse and worse each year.

The next year, I am planning to grow pumpkins on my prime soil, and I am contemplating whether to try for the three-sisters system there, or if I should plant just the pumpkins and ignore everything else.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 41 – The Nutcranker!

I wasn’t sure about how and when I would come round to doing this, and then suddenly I was finished. So instead of a series of posts documenting the making process, I decided to present you with a fait accompli.

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The walnut tree is so covered with nuts that the twigs and branches bend down so low that I have to bow down to mow the grass under it. I think I can safely expect several tens of kg of nuts. That will be a lot of work to collect, dry, crack, and store. The Nutkraken works perfectly still, but it is a little slow  – it takes about two hours to crack one bucket of nuts. My father can no longer do it, and I have a lot of other things to do. So after a few years of thinking about it, I decided to build a device to make cracking the nuts faster and easier.

The first thing I did was hammer.

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I was thinking for a long time about how to do this, and I considered to perhaps turning a cylinder from hardwood or welding/soldering something from scraps. A few days ago, I realized that I have an old pump that could provide me with an almost finished part. I disassembled the pump, took out the rotor from the motor, and ground grooves in it using an angle grinder. This has saved me a lot of work and a headache, since it came conveniently with fitted ball bearings and a keyed axle.

With the hammer, I made a sketch for the base and the whole machine.

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After that, of course, I built the base. It is made mostly from scraps of plywood and particle boards. Here you can see it after it got one coat of blue paint.

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© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

The base columns have grooves for the ball bearings and the axle of the hammer. And four M8 screws to fix the ball bearings.

The ball bearings are held in place with two wooden colars, reinforced with 5 mm flat mild steel bars.

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A hammer must work against something, in this case, a small anvil.

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Again, it is made from scraps of plywood and some steel offcuts. The face of the anvil consists of two mild-steel plates that are screwed-on for durability. On the back is glued a small hardened steel plate against which pushes an M10 fly screw to regulate the distance between the hammer and the anvil. The screws at the bottom lean against an 8 mm steel rod, so the anvil is very loose and can rotate freely. It can also be easily removed if needed.

Edit a few hours after publishing: I forgot to post pictures of these.

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These are inserts that keep the anvil centered against the hammer cylinder and the nuts from drifting sideways and going where they are not supposed to.

Once the base was finished, I had to make a funnel for the nuts. It would not be much saving in labor if I had to feed the nuts in individually, which is the reason I decided to not buy the commercial nut-cracking attachment for our kitchen robot.

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© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

The funnel took me longer than the base because of all the funky angles. With it done, I had to make the last component – the hand crank. And this is where a stroke of luck came for the second time – I found an old key with a hand crank that fitted onto the axle of the rotor. All I had to do was to drill a hole in the key and thread it for an M6 screw to lock it onto the axle, and voila, I was done. I gave the whole thing a coat of blue paint.

Here goes the assembly step-by step.

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First, the screw goes into the back of the base, and the anvil in the front. Two slotted inserts center the anvil, and the hammer axle with the crank can be inserted.

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The collars are then firmly screwd on top of the ball bearings together with the steel reinforcements to hold them firmly down.

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The funnel is simply slotted into the top of the machine. It is not held in place by screws, so it can be quickly removed when needed.

I only had a small handful of nuts to test it, but it worked really well with those, so I have reason to be optimistic. I could not find any commercially available product for my needs. I found electrically powered nut crackers, but they were either prohibitively expensive or useless – they had to be fed with individual nuts, which would be very time-consuming.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 40 – Topping & Trimming Tomatoes

Tomatoes in the greenhouse are slowly but surely ripening, with several blushing every day. I keep harvesting them at a pace of approximately 500 g every two to three days.

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Outdoors, however, not a single tomato has gone red yet.

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This was the first time in years that I managed to keep my outdoor tomatoes completely blight and mold-free, so it would be a real shame if they did not ripen at all in the end.

I am growing determinate tomatoes, which generally do not need to be pruned – after they reach a certain size, they should stop growing, ripen, and die off. However, I have a fairly short growing season, and they never get to live their full life span, even in the greenhouse, let alone outdoors. Thus, at the beginning of September, I started trimming off all newly sprouting buds, clipping the tops of all vines, and removing all blossoms. I do this in the greenhouse too, every year.

Theoretically, this should stress the plants and convince them that times are getting hard and they should hasten the ripening of fruits in order to propagate. It also redirects growth hormones and resources from flowers and buds that would be doomed to fail (which the plant does not know) into the already developing fruits. I am not aware of scientific studies looking into this, but from my personal experience, if I did nothing, the plants would try to grow more and more, and then, when the temperatures suddenly drop off sometime towards the end of September, I’d be left with a huge green, inedible mess. I will let you know if this worked. The weather forecast so far speaks about a warm and dry September, which does give me hope.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 39 -Toe-May-Toe Saws

Compared to last year, the tomato harvest is both delayed and pitiful. Last year, I harvested 25 kg overall. This year, it will probably be significantly less.

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Last week, I started to harvest them, a week later than in 2024. You can see the first ca 500 g in the picture. I added approximately the same amount every two days until I had about 2,5 kg, which was finally enough to fill the pot and make sauce.

We still did not eat all the ready-to-eat sauce from last year, so I was not making that yet – I made a tomato concentrate.

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The recipe for this is very easy:

Cut the tomatoes into quarters and boil them in as little water as possible until they dissolve. Strain them through a sieve with eyes small enough to catch most of the seeds, but not so fine that they get clogged up by the mashed mass. If a suitable strainer is not available, it is also possible to cross-cut the potatoes, blanch them, and then peel them before proceeding with making the paste with the pulp, including the seeds. But straining the paste through a strainer is less work and less mess.

Put the strained juice into a weighed pot and slowly simmer while stirring until most of the water is evaporated and the remaining paste is so thick that it takes a moment for it to close behind the stirring spatula/spoon. Then weigh it and add 35 g of sugar and 30 g of salt per 1000 g of paste (I have an Open Office Calc template that calculates the sugar and salt based on the weight of my pot).

The paste can be frozen, but I prefer canning it. I put it into small glasses with twist-on lids, then I put the glasses in boiling water for 10 minutes, and I open and close the lids while they are hot. Once they cool down to room temperature, they form a vacuum seal, and they last for at least a year in the cellar.  I am putting it into small jars because it is very concentrated, and it also tends to spoil quickly once the jar is opened. This way I can guarantee that once the jar is opened, it gets used up quickly.

It is a very good base for pizza, and one glass is enough for two 25 cm pies. It can also be directly eaten as a ketchup, although it is definitely not as sweet as store-bought one. It can also be used as a base for tomato sauce or tomato soup. And since it is concentrated, it takes up very little storage space.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 38 – Oodles of Onions

The onion experiment did not go as well as I would have liked, but it was not a complete failure either.

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When about half the onions lay down their leaves, I pulled them all up. And since the weather at the time was very cold, wet, and muddy, I had to wash the clay off in a wheelbarrow.

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I planted two varieties of yellow onions, and those performed best. In the pictures, you can see the two full wheelbarrows before washing. Red and white onions did not perform as well, and shallots were a failure. And whilst I got a substantial number of bulbs, all varieties produced mostly medium to small bulbs. The reason for all the negatives was simple – the weather.

The white onions were strongly affected by (probably) the same fungus that nearly wiped out my garlic. Whatever I have will need to be used up first because it will be most prone to spoiling. The red and yellow onions were not affected as much by this, with just a few bulbs being moldy and rotten. Shallots were not affected by the fungus at all, but they produced the tiniest bulbs of them all.

The drought in the spring is to blame for the small-sized bulbs. I had to prioritize my water usage, and I could not use as much water as I would like to water the onions because I needed the water for the sprouting beans, pumpkins, potatoes, and peas. The plants thus did not develop as strong foliage as was needed for subsequent bulking up. When the weather changed, the plants actually got too much water all of a sudden. Without sufficient foliage for photosynthesis, it was mostly useless, and it facilitated the spread of fungi.

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After I cleaned them somewhat, I bound them up by the leaves and hung them in my garden shed to dry. When the weather warmed up, I opened the door on both sides for air to circulate. Today, the weather got colder after an insufferable heatwave again, and I can barely walk due to a sore heel (likely due to too much walking), so I took them down, sorted them, weighed them, and tallied the numbers. Here they are:

White onions “Snowball” ~2 kg
Red onions “Carmen” ~3 kg
Yellow onions “Štutgart” ~ 7kg
Yellow onions “Sturon” ~ 4 kg
Shallots & assortment of tiny onions of all kinds ~ 3 kg

Overall, circa 19 kg, which is enough for our needs for the whole winter, provided not too many spoil. Approximately 4 kg of tiny shallots and tiny onions will be pickled, the rest has been put in mesh bags and hung back in the garden shed for the rest of the summer and fall. In the winter, I will move it to the cellar.

Lessons learned:

I will try onions from seeds once more, but this time I will buy seeds from a trusted supplier.

I will probably not bother with white onions anymore at all, and I will prefer to grow yellow ones. I will have the raised beds that I now fill with reasonably clean soil and that I can disinfect, but I will reserve those for the more expensive garlic.

I will try shallots again, but I will have to see to it that they are well-watered should there be drought again. The same goes for the other variants – I might plant less, but water more in the early spring for the same harvest (weight-wise). Small-ish onions have the advantage of avoiding the perpetual half-an-onion-leftover, but they are kinda contrary to getting the most food from the least amount of land.

As far as the companionship of onions with carrots, about that I will write when the carrots are done. So far, 2/3 are still in the ground. In the meantime, I sown spinach and peas where the onions were, for a possible autumn harvest.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 37 – Elevating Earth

As I mentioned, I tried to grow carrots for the first time in our garden since I was a kid. The experiment is not concluded yet, but there are some interim results. Firstly, about 10% of the carrots were destroyed or heavily damaged by voles, which forced me to harvest about 30% prematurely. Secondly,  a lot of those that I already harvested looked like this.

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This can be caused in two ways, and both were present. The first cause is damage to the roots by, for example, a burrowing pest. The second cause is when the root hits a stone. Multifurcated or whacky-shaped carrots are perfectly edible, of course, but they are significantly more difficult to clean and peel. They also tend to be smaller in weight than those with a single root. Thus, I reached a decision – I will build three raised beds (to be able to rotate crops between them), fortified against rodents, and filled with sieved permeable soil. I found cheap metal raised beds online that I could afford, so I bought them and I started to prepare the terrain.

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I started flatterooning the terrain in the place where I have cured my compost heaps, since the compost conveniently killed all vegetation in those spots, which made the job a lot easier. It was  (and will continue to be) hard work, nevertheless. For whatever reason, the topsoil in this part of my garden is relatively compacted heavy clay with lots of stones. I had to first soften it with a garden fork and break the lumps with a hoe before I could start sieving it.

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I run the soil first through a coarse sieve, with an approx 20 mm grid. Separating approximately 10% material from the clay in the form of large stones.

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After that, I run it through a second sieve, with a ca. 10 mm grid. That removed circa 15% more materiel as smaller stones and left me with finely-sieved clay.

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As indicated by the relatively light-brown color when wet, this is not particularly rich soil. On its own, it would tend to become very heavy when wet and compact again when dry. Unfortunately, I have to use it. I do not have a lot of high-quality soil in my garden, and I do not trust bought soils at all; I got burned that way in the past. I still have to mix the clay with something to make it more permeable to water and less prone to compaction. For that, I had to go to another part of my garden.

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In the north of my garden is a huge pile that consists of a mixture of old coal ash/clinker and sand. It has been there for over five decades by now, completely overgrown with grass and occasionally small trees. Any harmful chemicals are probably completely leeched into the water table by now, so I do not think using it to lighten the soil will be harmful. I have been using it for my bonsai trees for about a decade by now, and it does not seem to harm them at all. This year, I started to dig it up in a big way, and as you can see, I dug out a metal frame of unknown origins. The pile also contained several bricks, a broken metal rake, some rusted chains, and quite a few pieces of wire and plastic rope. All gifts from my grandfather. I used this metal frame to build a bigger 10 mm mesh sieve to expedite the work.

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When I had sieved enough soil and sand for at least one bed, I used the smaller fraction of stones to level the terrain where I had dug out the topsoil. And I placed the completed bed on top of some anti-rodent metal mesh.

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I decided to use a 1:1 ratio of soil to sand. That should have moderately good moisture retention, while allowing for drainage of excess. It is a pity I could not prepare the terrain for all three beds at once – the potatoes are in the way.

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The beds should be 322 cm long and 100 cm wide, according to the manufacturer. But I realized that if I build them 282 cm long and 140 cm wide, I will have more space (approx 20% more), getting more bang for my buck, and the beds will still be comfortably accessible from the sides. It required a slight modification of the inner bracings, but that problem was solved with material from my scrap pile in a matter of minutes. I put some smaller stones around the inner edges of the bed, and I will also pour them around the outer edges when finished to prevent the rodents from wriggling their way inside between the bed and the mesh easily. Those assholes can fit through very small gaps, and anything to impede their progress helps to lead them away towards softer soil.

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With the bed fully assembled and in place, I started filling it. I parked my concrete mixer right next to it, I filled the mixer using buckets with approximately a 1:1 ratio of soil/sand, and I  poured the mix directly into the bed to approximately 50% volume.

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With the beds half full with the arguably very poor mix, I sieved some higher-quality soil from a place in my garden where my father composted grass so long ago that it got mixed into the earth by earthworms alone. And I soaked the charcoal I made in the winter in NPK fertilizer.

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To fill the rest of the bed, I used a mix of charcoal/fresh compost/good soil/poor soil/sand at a volumetric ratio of 1:1:2:2:4. This should be enough nutrient-rich mix for most crops. It should get better with time, when plant roots permeate it and add more organic matter.

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One bed is now filled and complete. I might add some old garden hose around the upper edges – these cheap panels still have some sharp edges where they connect, and one can quite easily scratch on them.

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And since I still had some pea seeds left over, I planted them in the new raised bed. They might not have enough time to get a harvest, but they will test whether the mix is viable, show me how well plants fare in it, and they should improve the soil.

Now I am going to sieve more soil and sand so I can continue with the remaining two beds after I harvest the potatoes.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 36 – Stuffed Squash

Last year, we had such an overabundance of squash that we had trouble utilizing them all. This is one of the recipes we used to do it. The generic idea for the stuffing was mine; my mother then polished the culinary details. The goal was to prepare the squash in such a way that the finished meal is complete with no side-dishes or accompaniments.

The ingredients:

Any type of pumpkin/squash of a size that fits into a baking tray (pattypan, marrow, courgette, etc.), circa 1500 g.
Boullion cubes
200 g of protein – here we use dry soy meat and cheese 1:1, but it can be replaced with tofu, ham, smoked meat, hotdogs, or salami if you prefer, at any ratio to your liking.
5 eggs
2 White bread buns
2 cl of cream
3 medium-sized onions
~250-500 g Green bean pods, canned or fresh
butter or vegetable fat
Spices to taste

The process:

Cut the squash in half and scoop out the insides. If the seeds are not formed yet, the content can be mixed into bouillon with other vegetables (peas, lentils) to make a delicious soup. Ripe seeds can be roasted. Unripe seeds with hard shells but still filled with liquid need to be discarded.

Prepare the dry soy meat according to taste. We prefer to cook it in a chicken bouillon or in water with sugar, salt, and soy sauce for 20 minutes, then let it drain.

To make the stuffing, cut the buns into small cubes and wet them with cream. Add in the spices, finely minced onions, eggs, soy meat, and cheese cut into small pieces, and mix everything thoroughly. If necessary, it is possible to make the mass firmer by adding bread crumbs.

Put the squash in the oven at 180°C for 10 minutes. It releases some water that needs to be scooped out; otherwise, the food will be too soggy.

Fill the squash with the stuffing, roll it in baking paper secured with a string to keep moisture in, and bake for 30 minutes at 190°C. Tinfoil can also be used.

Cut the string and remove the baking paper.

Add bean pods around the pumpkin, with some water (if needed) and a spoon of butter. Bake uncovered for a further 30 minutes at 190°C until the stuffing develops a nice, firm browned crust and the beans are cooked.

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Three people had three lunches from this one squash, so one person could have lunches the whole week.

The nice thing about this recipe is, it can easily be modified to make it vegan. One can easily change the spices too; instead of the bean pods, any vegetable can be used to fill the tray to mix things up, including mushrooms, potatoes, carrots, or frozen vegetable mix. The variations are limitless to prevent becoming oversated and bored with it.

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 35 – Weather Woes

Any farmer, homesteader, or gardener will talk at length about the weather at any given opportunity. And as you have no doubt noticed over the years, I fit the stereotype to the T. Today, I will not so much talk as whine. Sorry about that, I need to get this off my chest.

We had a drought in the spring, which seems to be the rule these last few years. We did finally get some rain in July, which made me a bit optimistic. The soil got a nice soak, and whilst the underground waters are still below average, they are no longer “extremely below average” nor “strongly below average” – just “mildly below average”.

Unfortunately, unlike the previous year, the rain did come with a significant drop in temperature as well. The previous year, we had these average temperatures – June 17°C, July 19°C, and I was complaining that the summer was cold. This year – June 17°C, July 16°C. Even worse.

This difference is not significant when it comes to clothing or heating, but it is huge when it comes to some plants. Two-thirds of July we had daytime temperatures below 20°C, and on some days we even had night temperatures below 10°C. That has led to the near failure of some crops – Hokkaido pumpkin, butternut squash, and corn. All pumpkins, melons, and cucumbers need temperatures above 20°C at least part of the day in order to grow, and this year they just did not have that at my location.

Butternuts still did not produce a single female flower, and their growth is stunted. The Hokkaido stopped producing female flowers and started dropping female buds before they even opened. And the few fruits that were on the vines already are stuck at apple size for weeks now. It is very unlikely now that I will get more than one very small fruit per plant for Hokkaido, and almost impossible to get any ripe fruit for the butternut – the expected growing season is not long enough anymore.

A lot of the corn is also still stunted and did not produce any flowers. Some did finally produce female flowers, but not very many, and small plants will produce small ears.

All in all, I can already say that the Three sisters experiments did mostly fail, but not due to anything that I have done; just the weather was crap.

And the garlic continued to rot, not to dry, even under a roof. I might end up with less garlic (in weight) than I planted. It is already the case for some variants (Rusinka and Havel)

At least not all is bad. Cold, wet weather is still better than a hot drought. So to end today on a high-ish note:

It was really good for raspberries; we have enough jam and juice for at least two years.

The pea harvest was acceptable – the damage it suffered was from voles, not the weather.

Runner beans are thriving, and I might get a big harvest. They liked the weather so much that they are now dangling the vines several dm above the support tops. At the end of August, I will start harvesting green bean pods from the tops of the vines, so the bottom ones ripen faster. I will likely be able to can enough bean pods to last for years.

Apples, pears, plums, and aronias continue to grow and ripen; they look extremely promising. I hope to be able to fill the cellar with rows and rows of jars with dehydrated fruit and jams.

Walnut branches are so burdened with nuts that I have to bend to walk under them, despite cutting all low-hanging branches just two years ago.

Two of the three potato variants did recover somewhat – Marabel and Deli. I might get a decent harvest there. The Esme seems to be the most susceptible to drought; it did not bounce back, and the harvest will probably be tiny.

Tomatoes and peppers in the greenhouse continued to grow and produce fruit, albeit at a slower pace. Today, the first tomato started to blush. Thus, I might get the harvest with just a small delay compared to previous years. And unlike previous years, the tomatoes outdoors have not succumbed to blight yet. Maybe the improvised rain shelter did actually help, although it is still too soon to be definitive about that particular issue.

I harvested all the onions – I will write in detail about that some other time – and the harvest was acceptable, albeit not spectacular. In their place, I already sown a second batch of spinach and peas. We shall see how that goes.

 

 

The Great Gardening of 2025 – Part 34 – Processing Pea Pods

I got sick for a few days. The weather is too cold for this time of year, and I did not dress appropriately while working in the garden, which triggered (probably) a mild strep throat infection that would probably not develop in warmer weather. After a few days of being in bed, drinking paracetamol and elderberry tea, I might be finally getting better today – the throat pain subsided, and both teas started to taste awful. That is a peculiar thing – I strongly dislike the smell and taste of elderberry juice, yet I always try my best to keep a stash in my cellar. Because when I get sick, I get a craving for it. And once I heal, I start hating it again.

But before I got sick, I managed to harvest all the peas I sown two months ago.

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I did not manage to do it all in one go; I had to spread the work over several days. It was approximately three buckets of pea pods overall, which my parents shelled in the evenings while watching TV.

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I got about 4500 g of green peas from 500 g of seeds. About 500 g was lost to voles and drought, but 4500 is still a respectable amount that made the whole endeavour worth it. Now they are in the freezer awaiting further fate. We are still considering whether to keep them there and slowly use them in soups and foods, or to thaw them all and preserve them in jars.

And whilst I was sick, I was able to take a picture of a frequent visitor to my windowsills.

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I hear kestrels chirping all the time, but they are not easy to take a picture of. I am very glad to see them. They are an invaluable vole predator, and if I could convince them to nest nearby, I would.