Allotments and Amaranths
Part of the joy of an allotment is the space it offers for experimentation. Over the years, I've given house-room to all manner of unusual and historic crops, often with completely inedible results.
Some were complete failures, including the named variety of dandelion sown for its radicchio-flavoured leaves that didn't come up. How could this happen when in my lawn they need no encouragement? Or scurvy grass, a repulsive-tasting plant which was traditionally grown by sailors for its life-saving vitamin-C rich leaves. Thank goodness for oranges is all I can say and if you should ever come across scurvy grass juice for sale, take my advice. Avoid it.
Fortunately, there have been some very worthwhile successes too. The golden sun-dried seed-heads of the bread-seed poppy make super winter decorations for the house and Purple Grain-Amaranth (Amaranthus hypochondriachus 'Burgundy') has kept the birds fed in my garden long into winter. Amaranths are giant versions of the bedding plant Love-lies-bleeding. The variety 'Burgundy' has leaves the colour of blackberry juice and is blessed with the ability to produce vast amounts of seed from its long and fluffy tail-like flowers. I first grew the plant on my allotment hoping to get enough seed to grind up and make tortillas. I did get lots of seed but being short of a windmill to grind it into flower, this project is on hold. Although I collect the ripened seeds for drying in my shed some always escapes and comes up again the following year, so it's become a useful self-sustaining crop for the bluetits and chaffinches.
Talking of our feathered friends, I was interested to read the other week about the amazing intelligence of rooks. In recent university experiments they were found to be able to make wire keys which could retrieve locked-up food. This comes as no surprise to me as the crows and rooks at Greenacre are proving just as canny. In a bid to keep them off our newly-sown sunflower seeds, I thought a net held off the floor with willow hoops would be enough but the birds have outwitted me. They now throw rocks onto the net to weigh it down so they can get at the seeds. It's annoying but you can't help but admire their ingenuity!
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