A year in the kitchen garden
As it has been a grey and slightly cold week, I haven't gotten any nice pictures from the garden so instead I thought I would make a collage of last year in the kitchen garden to show what it is like to garden in a cold climate. This picture was taken in February last year, when we had plenty of snow and beautifully crispy skies.
In April, the snow had melted but it was a cool spring and still too early to start the kitchen garden. At this time of year I walk around with longing in my soul, order seeds and plan the coming season.
By the beginning of May, all the beds were raked and had some added soil and compost. The world around us has turned green, but it is only now that I can start planting the beds with early vegetables. As you can see, last year we renovated the paths between the beds and put down a weed suppressing fabric as well as a good layer of wood chips.
This picture is one month later, around midsummer. The early spinach was ripe for harvest, and the peas are growing well, but most of the vegetables are just about coming along.
In July the vegetable garden is bursting with ready produce, and each day brings new harvests for the table.
By August the peas and potatoes have been harvested and some gaps where turnips used to grow are filled with annuals. I replanted some of the beetroot to give them more room, and they survived really well much to my surprise. Mostly though the best still look so full because I harvest only every other or every third root vegetable, which gives the ones left in the beds much better space to keep on growing. The cauliflowers are already harvested too, but otherwise it looks much like in July.
September and the beginning of October look much the same as July and August, but if you look carefully you see where there are gaps coming up. The sweetcorn is ready, and even though we have picked and pickled endless amounts of beetroots there is a satisfying number left. Kale is my staple vegetable at this time of year, and we end up eating endless salads, stews and quiches.
In November it is all over, and the garden goes to sleep. The frost has wilted what I haven't harvested, and just a month later snow covers the ground once again. And now, very soon, I get to start the whole process again! I wish you all a lovely spring.