And the rain came down…

Even among the residents of Dingle Vale we’ve escaped the freakish weather so far with relatively minor damage. I arrived mid-storm on Friday morning to find a couple of the old-timers throwing out barrow loads of soggy, blight-ridden potatoes.
It turns out some of the ‘lads’ further up have lost almost their entire tomato crops - as the rain draining from the school at the top of the hill has flowed straight into their greenhouses, leaving sorry-looking, yellowing trusses.
There was a whiff of a war-time spirit in the air as we stood beside Bob’s waterlogged leaf-mould trench, peering out through the rain from our various rain-macs and caps. “It’s a bad year,� summed up Grandad Joe, as we tutted, reminding ourselves how lightly we’ve got off…considering people over in Yorkshire have lost their homes in the torrents.
Even around Merseyside people’s livelihoods have suffered. The Daily Post carried a story last week about a Wirral strawberry farmer whose crop is sitting rotting in his field as the fruits are too wet to pick without instantly turning into mush.
“It’s the same all over� says Bob: “Right up to Aughton way and around Ormskirk, all the farmers are feeling it…Terrible.�

Which kind of puts it in perspective - though I had to laugh when Grandad announced: “That’s why I’m hanging on to my tomatoes!� and scooted off to sit guard in his huge ramshackle greenhouse - and literally WATCH the fruits grow, picking off the odd bug as the rain drummed on the glass overhead (which I later had to concede, between sips of hot sugared flask-coffee, was actually a pretty chilled out way to spend a Friday…)

Saturday’s rare burst of sun was the first chance I’ve had in weeks to grit my teeth and dare to lift some potatoes. Happily, we don’t appear to have been struck by rain-induced blight on the mid/lates – which are sporting healthy dark green leaves and can be left to be, for now.

I got about 8lb of small and medium sized potatoes from about five or six of the “accidentals� – which ‘self-seeded’ from tubers we missed clearing out last year’s patch.

The mid-seasons, which Simon put out in March, were a bit more of a lottery. Pretty much all the leaves have turned a heavily-jaundiced looking yellow, and some roots simply had nothing on the end of them – as if entire plants have rotted away underground. Others yielded five or six huge potatoes, each at least the size of my fist – who knows what saved some plants and killed others…

A third of what I did salvage went straight to Lynn and Bryn's (thanks for the water - I was about to pass out from dehydration!), and the rest will be enough for a good few meals for mine and Simon's respective clans…

The best advice is to store root vegetables in a dry, dark place - like wrapped in newspaper, still coated in their soil (unless you've got a sand box).

I washed some straight away...

which, along with some shallots, rescued before they succumb to the damp (they can be stored by hanging up in old nylons, according to one of Lynn's books) made a fabulous fluffy topping for a hearty fisherman’s pie:

We served it with a salad of cos lettuce, rocket and a handful of freshly shelled peas from my mum and dad’s rather more successful garden, topped with petals and peppery-tasting leaves from a load of marigold flowers I haven’t managed to transport to the plot yet (seriously, if you haven't tried them, do - the leaves have a really nice sharp effect, in a kind of lemongrassy way, and the petals brighten up the dish).

Aside from the sodden-potato losses, the worst of the plot-devastation this week is actually down to a particularly nasty side-effect of the downpours: MORE slugs and snails.
They’ve completely stripped the broccoli and mange tout, leaving spindly leafless twigs of plants which a few weeks ago looked set to be a glorious success:

Thankfully the beets have lived up to their hardy reputation.
They appear to have benefited from the rings of gravel I poured around as an attempt at a slug barrier a few weeks ago, and they’re happily growing at different rates - so I left the majority in the ground.

The trick, I’m advised by a plot neighbour, is to pick them when they’re still relatively small (golfball sized) and sweet, and not to get tempted to let them grow larger, when they will start getting ‘woody’ - and you can always pickle them to store.

The gravel ‘slug barrier’ hasn’t proved so effective on the lettuce, however.
Which in the last fortnight have mutated from crisp young plants...

...into some kind of alien sea-creatures:

And, like several of Grandad's potatoes which have vanished into thin air (he's blaming thieves) there is simply no trace of the lollo rosso lettuce OR its neighbouring rocket...

...the plot thickens!

POSTSCRIPT:
Apologies to any regular readers for downtheallotment's sparse blogging activity of late.
It's been a busy month away from the plot - made slightly more of an uphill slog by the fact my laptop and camera were both nicked when the flat was burgled soon after I got back from Berlin (thanks for that, whoever you are).
Be assured this post is now back up and running with fervour - although you may have to bear with the picture quality for now as I'm relying on my mobile phone until funds can stretch to a new camera.
Deb