PotLuck: Garlic

Allotments spread...in my case to my window ledges and tiny balcony. Hence, alongside AllotmentPickings will occasionally come PotLuck.

A friend brings me a beautiful, bulging Provencal garlic, sweet and strong. Why have one when you can have several, I think. But I'm behind with things at the plot which is still cluttered with last summer's remains while the skies are speckled with peckish birds well able to sniff out a buried garlic clove from their dizzy heights. Where's the problem? Garlic likes sandy, well drained soil and will grow well in pots. I have the remains of a bag of John Innes No 3, a big pot, a small balcony. It's the time to plant. A no brainer; the investment will grow 300% by harvest time in 10 months and I have two-thirds of the garlic to use now. Oh, and the pot has been covered with protective wirenetting.

Parakeet

A couple of weeks ago, a parakeet arrived in the street where I live, screeching with the frustration of someone who’s taken a wrong turning and noticed too late. Perhaps it had. It looked even more out of place than they do swooping noisily over our allotments.
It prompted me to pop down to the plot. Fiddling with the gate lock, I was struck by a waft of horse manure. Looked up to see a load had been dumped for us, warm and steaming. Another sniff and I was back in my childhood days, saddling up Muffin, a Thelwell style pony. Mentally jogging along west country lanes, I walked to my plot. The cosmos were beginning to feel the cold nights, but despite this, at the beginning of November, I came away with a last generous pink and white bunch and another mix of Rudbekias, Sunflowers, Dahlias and Marigolds all grown from seed. Global warming or autumn delight?