borlotti beans

Today’s my birthday, but more than that, I’m hoping it marks the end of the vile cold-cough we picked up nearly a month ago in Pembrokeshire. So much for going on holiday. But now, with a burst of restored good spirits, havoc is being unleashed in the upstairs (back) garden.

Last week’s big winds anyway blew the climbing beans (Runners, Cosse Violette and Borlotti) inside out, mashing everything on their sticks. Yesterday I started the big dismantling, untangling canes and chopping up stems – my least favourite garden chore. The upside was that there was quite a good harvest of Borlotti beans. As they were still growing until the winds, most of the pods were undried, so I put the beans straight in the freezer. They’re quicker to cook than dried ones.

The Runners, on the other hand, were over by early October. They’d been looking a sight ever since, but having a virus seemed a good excuse for not dealing with them.

Now they are down and chopped the compost bin is full, which in many ways is annoying because I’m planning to move it this winter. I would have done it sooner but its new position requires some pruning of the old apple tree. In the meantime, in hopes of speeding up the rotting down, I made myself cut the stems into very short lengths, and further gave myself notice that regular turning would be needed.

But then when the bin is gone, the easterly edge of the garden will be free for a new planting scheme. I’ve finally accepted that treating our modestly sized garden like my erstwhile allotment is not viable. Not only that, the number of pests that visit us, make for disappointing results. I now have a weekly delivery of a small organic veg and fruit box instead. And next year I will stick to beans, herbs, salad stuff and some soft fruit.

I also want to continue developing the garden so there’s something of interest all the year round, plus an extended flowering window to entice and support beneficial insects.

So with the beans gone and the compost bin scheduled to move, the re-planting began yesterday with my new garden favourite: crab apple Malus toringo Scarlett a tree that also comes in a compact bush format. It arrived on Thursday afternoon in a very big box from Ornamental Trees in North Yorkshire. Oh, the excitement as it emerged so redly and amazingly unscathed by its long journey.

The deep red-purple autumn colour is a particular feature, and in spring it has attractive pink scented blossom, followed by small dark red crab apples. There’s a photo of Malus toringo Scarlett in bloom at this link. I’ve planted it in a re-sited, raised (formerly Borlotti bean) bed to give it some height and also so we can see it from the kitchen.

Now the Borlotti beans are gone, our kitchen view also includes (to the left of Scarlett on the back fence) Aster Ageratoides Ashvi. It is just coming into full flower, this after some weeks of sporadic blooming. What a star she is. Unscathed by the gales, and supposedly keeping the show going into November. Then in the winter there are a mass of white tufty seed heads. Ashvi is fine with dry shade, though there were times during the summer drought when she looked a little stressed, albeit still keeping her upright bushy stance.

And there are more garden stars this week. I have failed with Astrantia in the past, but back in June I bought a couple of bare stems (white flowers) from a local plant sale and popped them in the semi-shaded bed under the kitchen window. As the summer receded they started to bulk up and flower. So then I moved in a struggling ‘Sparkling Stars’ pink version that looked rather weak from all the heat. Now they are ‘shining’ beautifully together.

And finally this week there are the Cosmos. The plants themselves look awful. The big winds tried to blow them out by the roots. Yet still they are flowering and so I am picking them and filling vases around the house. What a lovely autumn gift, even for someone who claims not to think much of pink.

Happy Halloween!

Six on Saturday Please call on Jim. He still has some lovely plants on show in his garden.

I cannot tell you how excited I get about the prospect of the late summer borlotti harvest. I grow the climbing version, also called Firetongue or Lingua di Fuoco – you can see why – and just now the leaves are falling from the stems and leaving clusters of hot pink pods to light up my allotment plot.

I harvested the first row last week, prompted by the sudden appearance of a fungal looking disorder on some of the pods. Usually I let them dry on the sticks, but the ones in the header were quickly blanched and put in the freezer. This anyway means they are much quicker to cook – favourites in chilli, re-fried beans and bean soup.

I’ve been keeping my eye on the second row. They are at the other end of the plot, and seem to be drying nicely with no signs of infection. I showed the diseased pods to the Resident Plant Pathologist chez Farrell i.e. Dr. Graham, but all he said was, ‘It’s probably due to the funny weather.’ Which is a bit like going to the G.P.’s surgery with an ailment and being told: ‘there’s a lot of it about.’ Ah well. As long as I have lots of pods to shell I’m happy. Until you open them you never know quite what colour the beans will be. I’m easily pleased. When all is said and done, they are SO very beautiful.

The basket is a favourite too – made by the Tongabezi people of southern Zambia (they who were forcibly displaced from their ancestral Zambezi Valley lands by the British in the 1950s so Lake Kariba and the hydro-electricity dam – between what was then Northern and Southern Rhodesia – could be constructed.) I bought it long ago in the museum shop in Livingstone, near Victoria Falls. The beans are also grown in Africa where they are called Rose Coco, and sold by farm mamas who measure out the quantities in old (scrubbed) jam tins at their roadside market stalls.

It’s interesting the apparently unrelated resonances that, well, resonate down one’s personal time-line on a Monday morning here on Wenlock Edge.

In the Pink #17

Tish Farrell

Writer on the Edge

Six On Saturday: All Hallows Eve And Garden Upheaval

My Big Basket Of Beautiful Borlotti And A Few Shades Of Africa