大象传媒

Japanese rowan, Sorbus commixta

Once a year, thanks to , we get to spend a whole week appreciating the gentle giants of the plant world: not just the incredible beauty trees bring to our gardens and countryside but the long and important part they have played in building a modern world.

Tony Kirkham might be best known as the presenter of 大象传媒2's The Trees That Made Britain, but in his day job he looks after one of the UK's finest collections of trees at . We asked him to reflect on the trees in his care.

Well it鈥檚 that time of the year again, when we start to notice trees: the statuesque silhouettes in their now naked forms, devoid of leaves and showing off their true architectural majesty as the trunks and major branches reach into the sky with glistening twigs shrouded in frost.

This is my favourite time of year. At last the cold weather has started early in the calendar, just as I remember it when I was a boy. We always had heavy frosts before Bonfire Night, a diary date I always link to the period that trees shut down for a winter rest.

This week the oaks will join the rest of the trees as they are always one of the last to shed their leaves. Over this weekend they turned a rich, russet-brown, and a good wind will see the last of the leaf fall, so gardeners can complete their leaf raking and composting operations and put those rakes away.

One of my favourite trees is the Japanese rowan, Sorbus commixta. There is a beautiful multi-stemmed specimen next to the Japanese landscape in the south end of the arboretum at Kew, a tree that I collected as seed in South Korea in 1989. Every year it performs a grand overture to end another growing season; the autumn colour is out of this world, hot orange with hints of coral that resemble a raging fire on a cold, sunny autumnal day.

It's been hanging on, performing for the camera for the past three weeks, but this morning as I walked past the last leaves were falling gently to the ground exposing the clusters of bright red berries and reminding me of the very day 21 years ago that I picked the fruits.

By the end of the week the fieldfares and redstarts will have found them and gorge on them until the tree is once again bare.

This is the time of year that the evergreen trees come into their own and have centre stage in the treescape and we notice them once again. My favourite at Kew is the Lucombe oak, Quercus x hispanica 鈥楲耻肠辞尘产别补苍补鈥�; it鈥檚 actually a semi-deciduous tree, as it does lose all of its leaves in spring, but for now it鈥檚 evergreen.

Lucombe oak, Quercus x hispanica 鈥楲耻肠辞尘产别补苍补鈥�

There is a Chinese proverb, 鈥淭he best time to plant a tree was 200 years ago. The next best time is today.鈥� That鈥檚 just what we will be doing in the arboretum at Kew over the next few weeks.

There is nothing more rewarding than planting a tree, nurturing it and watching it grow into a fine majestic specimen that everyone can enjoy. Let鈥檚 not forget the benefits that living trees provide us with: clean air, cooling, shade, colour, scale, sound but to name a few and enjoy them.

For one moment this week, take a few minutes out, stand back, take in and admire the grandeur of a mature tree with its framework fully exposed. Better still, why not plant one and get a real feel-good factor!

You can hear Tony Kirkham on 'the right tree in the right place' in a recent broadcast of Gardeners' Question Time.

How odd that my last blog was all about extreme November temperatures and here we are battling against severe snow, frost and ice. I must have known, and am certainly glad all my tender plants are safely in the greenhouse. Anyway, I digress before I鈥檝e even started, onto the main topic of the day鈥μ�

I visited a small garden centre last weekend and spotted something that stopped me in my tracks and filled me with horror. Among all the lovely plants, sundries and other garden paraphernalia was a HUGE pink sign promoting . Why did it stop me in my tracks? Well I had absolutely no idea such a ludicrous week occurred (after a bit of online searching I鈥檝e found out that this year鈥檚 event was 2-10 October, so admittedly the sign is a little out of date). And why did the sign fill me with horror? Because I absolutely hate conifers with all my being. It鈥檚 a deep-rooted loathing that started 15 years ago when I worked at a plant nursery and was told to weed row after row of potted conifer. It took me three days to weed all of the pots, I developed a hugely irritating and painful rash up my arms and, unfortunately, conifers have never been in favour with me since. I鈥檓 sure there are plenty of gardeners who will defend them, and I reckon I鈥檓 likely to get a bit of grief from The , but is there any point in growing them? There are plenty of other evergreen trees and shrubs to provide structure and winter interest 鈥� why not plant a lovely viburnum that also has scented flowers?

My reaction to the pink sign, and my general hatred for conifers, got me thinking and I realised there鈥檚 actually quite a lot of things I intensely dislike about some British plants and gardens. Take statues of animals for example, I don鈥檛 see how they enhance a garden one bit. I specifically mention these because I pass a huge stone Great Dane in a neighbour鈥檚 front garden every time I leave my house and, while it raises a smile and my young daughter loves it, it makes a complete joke of the garden and detracts away from the roses that are actually very pretty in the summer. Not to mention it comes up to my armpits and looks quite menacing after a night at the pub and a few shandies. Perhaps that鈥檚 the point.

It鈥檚 not just conifers and animal statues that get my back up and, to make myself a few enemies, here is my top-ten list of everything I loathe about British gardens.

1. Conifers. They鈥檙e all hideous and bring nothing to a garden.
2. Statues of animals. Your garden is doomed if you buy one of these. Anyway what鈥檚 with this recent obsession with meercats? They鈥檙e the worst of the lot.
3. Peach. I鈥檓 not talking about the fruit but the colour. Any plant that produces a flower that is peach (or salmon, call it what you like) should be banned.
4. Ceramic outdoor clocks. Haven鈥檛 you got a watch?
5. Gas patio heaters. They look ugly and are doing the environment no good at all.
6. Topiary animals. Why have a squirrel when a classic ball, pyramid, lollipop or column would look much better?
7. Coloured glazed pots. Only plain terracotta will do for me.
8. Multi-coloured paving. Why can鈥檛 some people stick to one colour of paving slab?
9. Heather. Perhaps it's because you so often see it with conifers.
10. Pink daffodils. They鈥檙e just wrong. Daffodils should be yellow and only yellow.

Of course, it鈥檚 all about personal taste and preference, and I鈥檓 entitled to my opinion just as you are yours (waiting for comments in fear).

Until next time鈥�

Kevin Smith is a garden writer, and former Commissioning Editor of 大象传媒 Gardeners' World Magazine.

In the news....

Well, even by November standards we've certainly had some weather this week. Gardens in Scotland and Northumberland are under two feet of the white stuff after the earliest heavy snowfall since 1993 caused widespread disruption. Most public gardens had already closed for the winter, but , has been forced to shut its gates to visitors, and has also called a temporary halt to free weekend openings in its main gardens 鈥� though they say the Secret Woodland, complete with Santa Claus, will open come what may next week.

Ladybirds and hedgehogs may shun our well-meaning attempts to help them through winter, but barn owls don't seem so fussy: in fact man-made nest boxes are now . Three-quarters of all barn owls now nest in artificial boxes as traditional sites such as barns and haystacks disappear. Gardeners are also the last refuge for bumblebees, too: a recent study tracking bees through DNA marking found gardens are a 'stronghold', whereas farmland was 'impoverished' by comparison.

Elsewhere on the web...

Sally Nex is a garden writer and blogger and part of the 大象传媒 Gardening team.

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This November has been rather traditional with cold, damp, grey days enveloped in fog and mist, alternating with howling windy days and even flurries of snow and hail. It鈥檚 retarded my pruning for which I need bright dry days. Still I love it, because this is how November should be.

Certainly I remember such as a child. Often it was just like this year with the firework night bonfire postponed as either too wet, to light or too windy for safety. My twins have likewise been kept waiting till the bonfire had dried enough and the wind was not blowing anywhere really inconvenient. Indeed with a still evening it was perfect, misty and really not cold - when I went back later that night to check the bonfire had finished I popped out in a t-shirt.

Oddly it is the day after I enjoy as much. There is something satisfying about tidying a dead bonfire. Collecting up un-burnt twigs and branches to start the next then sieving the still warm ashes. These ashes are especially valuable as I鈥檝e light sandy soil and potash/potassium is soon washed out. Spreading wood ashes replenishes this; I save them in the dry to spread in spring when growth is underway. I鈥檓 careful never to burn anything nasty such as plastic, rubber or whatever but just thorny and twiggy stuff. Anything woody and larger than my thumb is converted to firewood but I produce an awful lot of bramble, hawthorn, rose and other thorny prunings. Most thorn-free bits are stacked up as wildlife piles but the sheer quantity makes some bonfires necessary. Just the perimeter hedge alone produces enough for a couple.

Of course I could stand all day with a shredder burning electric to reduce all to compostable trash; I tried it, then sold the shredder. Too noisy and too slow, it took longer to shred the hedge鈥檚 trimmings than to actually cut it!

Anyway I sieve ashes - first to mix them up uniformly and remove any odd detritus such as bits of wire. But also to fetch out bits of charcoal - when the evening festivities are over I drag the bonfire together, add all the old bones I have saved up, rake ashes around and over the lot, apply some turves on top finally covering it all with old corrugated iron. (This last also keeps any rain from washing out the goodness before I collect the ashes.) The bonfire鈥檚 heat then turns the remains to charcoal and baked bone. Coarse sieving means any chunks of charcoal can be saved for summer barbecues and the smaller stuff, broken up baked bones and charred soil get intimately mixed.

Come spring I鈥檒l sprinkle this around the apples, currants and gooseberries, and in between the onions. Some will be added to potato trenches and more mixed in compost for the tomatoes. There is seldom enough to use it elsewhere except sparingly. Given more almost all of my garden would benefit, and the compost heaps could absorb any amount.

Bob Flowerdew is an organic gardener and panellist on 大象传媒 Radio 4's Gardeners' Question Time.

The Beechgrove conservatory one day in Feb 2009

In a week when the forecasters reckon we are going to see a significant drop in temperatures and probably a dump of snow, my mind turns to the safety of the greenhouse,听 the conservatory and the plants therein. In the that means a mixture of a few tender shrubs, half-hardy perennials, pot plants, stock plants and winter salads.

As snug as a bug in a rug on that February day 2009

In the television garden, apart from the structures in the 鈥楪lasshouse Village鈥� (so named because we have five greenhouses, a Keder tunnel, several cold frames and a potting shed in a cluster) we have a rather splendid conservatory at the top of the garden. In past seasons we have moved all pots and containers into this large space, which we insulate with a bubble polythene tent and maintain at a minimum night temperature of +5degC using fan heaters. The other smaller houses are shut down until spring.听 The system has worked well.

Sadly, the conservatory is beginning to show it鈥檚 age, (it was moved from the original Beechgrove Garden when we moved to our new site in 1995). Hopefully we can affect the necessary repairs over the winter months and in preparation for that this winter, the team behind the scenes have been reversing the process 鈥� moving as much as we can into the Glasshouse Village, leaving the conservatory empty.

Plants are going to be packed in to smaller spaces and therein lies a major danger 鈥� excessive humidity which in winter we tend to call DAMPNESS! As most gardeners will know that means one thing, the scourge we call Grey Mould caused by the fungus Botrytis cinerea.听 There is one principal cultural control for that 鈥� ventilation, or more precisely, positive air changes. BUT, we don鈥檛 want to open up the greenhouse and let the temperature drop say the penny-pinchers. It is better for the plants to be dry and cold rather than wet and warm, say I.

Whilst we may highlight the dangers of snowfall and frost, in our climate the major dangers are caused by short days, poor light, low temperatures and high levels of condensation, moisture, humidity.听 In the enclosed atmosphere of a glasshouse or polytunnel packed with plants almost all in suspended animation, Grey Mould can cause havoc.

My answer is to pick over the plants as often as you can removing dead and dying foliage, water sparingly early in the day, don鈥檛 spill excess all over the place and once or twice a week leave the door open for an hour in the middle of the day to change the air, obviously choosing a time when the air is drier and perhaps there is a slight breeze.

Jim McColl presents 大象传媒 Scotland's the .

I enjoy twitter () for all sorts of reasons听 - the banter, the140-characters insight into other people's minds. You can follow the rich, famous and downright crackpot. That, and it is a very good place for debate (though clearly the crackpot can throw the argument into some very odd corners).

One of the people I follow is Phil from Landscape Juice (). He runs an online network for the landscape and horticultural industry and is a prolific blogger. We had a little debate a while back following one of his posts; it's about ?

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I was interested in this debate as I read a similar article whilst I was in America. New York State is banning chemical use (pesticides, herbicides and chemical fertilizers) in schools and athletics fields from May 2011.

They decided to do this after , a campaigning body that is dedicated 鈥榯o educating the public about links between common environmental toxins and human health鈥�, put together a case for an alternative. Their report showed that .

Though even they agreed that the argument was won on health implications rather than money in the end.

Now clearly I鈥檓 going to sit firmly in the organic camp. I think that long term we will have to learn to rely on cultivation techniques and with this there will have to be a sea change in how we view our green spaces - perfectly manicured rose beds in a climate of economical cuts and limited labour resources may just not be the right thing anymore.听

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A wilder approach whether it's more听 grassland or wild flower meadows will probably look more chaotic, may be more rich in biodiversity, cheaper to look after and perhaps, dare I say it, more aesthetically pleasing than the old school flowerbeds (well at least more pleasing than the tortured rose beds in my park).

But in the short term, as Phil points out, that quite a lot to ask of a cash strapped park manager or council worker. Although chemicals are not cheap anymore, they are certainly cheaper than labour costs and the initial outlay of moving over to organic management is expensive.

Asking everyone to give up his or her knapsack sprayers for a hoe is just not a viable option yet. The sort of skills needed to manage a space using cultural techniques rather than grabbing a bottle comes down to one thing: skills.

We鈥檝e got a skills shortage and there鈥檚 not going to be any money for consultants or re-training anytime soon. There's a huge gap between the wages someone needs to earn to live and the sort of money you could offer someone to do a potentially menial job.

So how do we go about fixing this problem? One answer is that it might just get too expensive to buy chemicals in the future, particularly if you subscribe to the idea of a looming , chemicals need energy to be manufactured. In which case we鈥檒l need a little creative thinking. Perhaps we could bring back pasture management to some of our larger spaces. I鈥檓 all for seeing some urban shepherds and flock of sheep whilst I go to the allotment.

Another solution might be to engage more active participation from the community. My local park has a community coppicing programme where volunteers help to manage the woodlands areas. But the Big Society is increasingly going to ask an awful lot from communities - would weeding really be a priority over libraries or health care?

Alys Fowler is a garden writer and presenter of 大象传媒 Gardeners' World.

In the news....

Vertical farms, sunken gardens, Japanese mountainscapes and kelong fish farms: it could only be the RHS Chelsea Flower Show. , and it should be a vintage year. Some of Chelsea's most exciting designers are back: , and among them. And there are gardens from Malaysia, Monaco, Japan and Australia (twice).

Things aren't anywhere near as glamorous as usual at in Cornwall just now: they're mopping up after this week's floods, which left the visitor's centre, workshops and offices under three feet of water. The million or so exotic plants which live in the spectacular biomes were thankfully spared. They're closed to visitors until at least Sunday, but you can follow the clean-up day by welly-clad day on .

Elsewhere on the web...

Everyone's over at this week, where voting in this year's much-anticipated alternative gardening awards is well under way. Martyn's are handing out virtual gongs for most snoggable male, worst-dressed gardener and best haircut. Toby Buckland, Cleve West and Monty Don all feature: I'll leave you to guess in which categories.

Monty Don has also been revealing some surprising snippets in an : spotted a passing reference to a previous career as a dustman, and he also turns out to be a neat freak who was once chatted up by Danny La Rue.

Elsewhere, Emma at Fluffius Muppetus is doing her bit for 大象传媒 Children in Need while : while Deb over at Carrots and Kids has been , though she's already done pretty well for weird veg this year. ?

Out and about...

I hate to say this, but things are getting decidedly Christmassy out there. Nobody's mentioning shopping days (yet): but with turning on all 1,800 lights bedecking the country's tallest living Christmas tree on Friday, it's beginning to look dangerously festive.

Book the kids in to sort out the Christmas decorations at next weekend's workshop at in Essex, or enjoy a Christmas Fair at the next weekend. You can always sneak off for a nose around the garden, not normally open at this time of year.

If you really can't face Christmas just yet, there are plenty of other reasons to get outside, especially on frosty days. , and its handsome topiary should look fabulous rimed in white; while at the very covetable kitchen garden at they're running a two-hour workshop on Friday to show you how to spruce up your fruit bushes with some winter pruning.

Sally Nex is a garden writer and blogger and part of the 大象传媒 Gardening team.

Well we鈥檝e had some wet and very windy weather so I was lucky to get in most of my late apples for long term storage. I like to leave them as late as possible, indeed the are still hanging on as they do, but the others are all safely packed away in a dead deep freezer. The good ones that is, there was an awful lot of small ones (my fault as I neglected to do enough thinning this year) but also, annoyingly, an awful lot of maggoty ones. Quite unusually so, and what made it more irritating was it seemed to be the bigger fruits that were most often affected. Or is that just life鈥�? Still, those too have value cleaned and juiced, or fed to the hens, or both.

My pears continue ripening with the incomparable Doyenne du Comice in full flood. So liquid each morsel is almost drunk rather than eaten.

My late autumn raspberries, which are my own seedling, are now losing out to mould, but they have been gorgeously delicious, and their foliage is unusually well-coloured on this variety - not the normal drab tones.

Under cover Cape Gooseberries are cropping well at the moment, especially the huge plant I鈥檝e been torturing in a small tub which has borne more than I鈥檝e ever seen before, certainly pays to treat them tough.

And the last of the outdoor strawberries are ripening under plastic bell cloches. I have horse chestnuts (Aesculus听 hippocastanum) all round the house now. My children heard the Gardeners' Question Time recording from Great Ryburgh and were convinced placing these about will stop those dreaded spiders from coming in. I鈥檓 pleased to go along with this though I doubt any veracity in it, and it鈥檚 too late anyway, I鈥檓 sure they鈥檙e in already.

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Actually I love spiders, they鈥檙e all good friends eating nothing but insects and never ever damaging plants. Mind you I get unnerved by the sight of some at night in my 鈥榯ropical鈥� polytunnel - they鈥檙e huge and look really evil, with a skull and cross bones like design on their back. Perhaps they came in with some plant? Better not to disturb them just in case. Which is difficult as I can鈥檛 give up night patrols with a torch yet. Slugs and snails always find their way indoors and carry on munching long after those outdoors start hibernating.

I grow many salad crops through winter: , loose leaf lettuce, rocket, Winter purslane (claytonia) and so on, all attractive snail fodder. I diligently collect them up and pop them in my Snailcatraz. It鈥檚 a snail wormery where they鈥檙e held captive in a plastic laundry basket sitting in a moat. They have old pots to live in, soil in trays and water in the bottom. I give them lots of leafy stuff and paper (they love it) and in return I get a liquid feed when I rinse the lot through. I rather enjoy making them pay back for all their damage rather than just squishing them underfoot.

Bob Flowerdew is an organic gardener and panellist on 大象传媒 Radio 4's Gardeners' Question Time.

It is winter pruning season in the fruit garden, the leaves have almost all gone and the plants are going in to dormancy.听 When it comes to pruning, some things don鈥檛 change for example, the parts of the plant that will carry the flowers and fruit each year. I suggest to first-timers that they become familiar with this characteristic because it dictates the way you prune.

Why bother?听 Pruning is a technique used to control the growth of a plant, to improve/maintain the shape or to limit the size and sometimes to improve the flowering and/or fruiting performance. Some would say that good pruning helps to extend the useful life of a plant.

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I always start my winter pruning programme with my conventional summer fruiting raspberries, perhaps because it is the easiest one 鈥� no real decision-making required!听 The crop is planted as single stems or canes and at planting time they are cut back to within 20-25cms from the ground. In the first growing season, in real time let's say that will be 2011, new shoots will emerge from the ground around each original cane and grow to a metre high or thereby - they will not produce any fruit.听 During the following winter (2011/12) these original shoots can be cut down to ground level leaving the new growths intact. They will remain dormant and should be given some basic staking to prevent wind damage. In their second spring (2012), you may apply a dressing of general fertiliser around the roots and mulch with some well-rotted farmyward manure.听 As these canes burst in to growth the flowers will soon appear to be closely followed by fruit.听 Even as the flowers turn to small fruitlets, new growth will start to appear from ground level once again and should be protected from damage when fruit picking starts. Beware over-zealous pickers; they may not appreciate the importance of this 鈥榮tuff鈥� that is getting in the way.

When the fruit-bearing canes have given their all, they will die off to make way for the new growth. At this time of year, when the leaves have fallen you will be able to detect the old dark brown stems from the new growth which is lighter in colour. Need I go on 鈥� the old canes of darker hue are cut out as near ground level as possible and in my case they go through the 鈥榗hipper鈥� ready to use as a mulch. Once again remember to tie up the new growth to prevent wind damage.

Lesson learned 鈥� conventional raspberries produce their fruits on one-year-old growths. Autumn fruiting varieties require different treatment. More of that anon.

Jim McColl presents 大象传媒 Scotland's the .

Feeling chilly? I certainly am. The temperature has plummeted over the last few days here in Essex, and as I type this icy rain is lashing against the window and the sky is black. Very black. Last night it went down to 10掳c indoors as I鈥檇 turned the heating off in a bid to save a bit of cash (I know this because my daughter woke up crying and that鈥檚 what the thermometer in her room said). On 7 November a really hard frost struck and knocked back a few tender things in the garden. It seems winter is nearly here.

But it鈥檚 normal, isn鈥檛 it, feeling chilly in November? Well it doesn鈥檛 seem so. On the 3, 4 and 5 November it was quite a different story as I, and the rest of Westcliff on Sea, sweated in 16掳c 鈥� a temperature that continued into the evening. It was warm enough to walk around in a t-shirt and actually feel a bit hot if you found a sheltered, sunny spot. Not very November-like at all.

Okay, I know us Brits can talk about the weather until the cows come home, often wasting hours on the topic, but to us gardeners it really does matter. A surprise frost can be catastrophic for tender plants, a mild winter means lots of 鈥榖order-line plants鈥� (you know the ones I mean) will make it through unprotected, a harsh winter might just kill of all a few unwanted pests and diseases. And so it goes on.

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I guess I鈥檓 lucky because I live by the coast in the South East and often escape the worst of the winter wet and cold. This makes me brave, some may say foolish, and I grow lots of tender, exotic-looking plants, which sometimes survive a mild winter. This is, of course, my downfall and I鈥檝e lost lots of plants over the years by not giving them the protection they need. Last winter was a disaster as I lost all of my bananas, a couple of gingers and some cannas, all of which I鈥檇 left outside in an attempt to beat nature. I guess I wasn鈥檛 to know the garden would be covered in snow for several weeks, though.

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So what鈥檚 the tactic this year? I鈥檓 taking no chances and, even though I鈥檝e just experienced the warmest bonfire night of my life, all my precious, tender plants are safely tucked up in my greenhouse for the winter. They鈥檝e got everything they need in there 鈥� bubble wrap insulation and a small heater to keep the frost at bay, and a fridge stocked with beer should they get thirsty (every man needs somewhere to escape). But not everything fits in the greenhouse, and there鈥檚 plenty outside that will have to take its chance. I鈥檓 most concerned about the echiums that have seeded themselves around the garden. I managed to nurture one giant flower spike in the summer of 2009, and the seedlings are its progeny destined to flower next year. If they don鈥檛 make it through the winter to flower and set seed themselves, it鈥檚 likely I鈥檒l loose them forever.

Of course, it could all be down to , and many argue that extremely cold winters are an effect of this world crisis 鈥� perhaps I should concentrate on that rather than using energy on a greenhouse heater to keep a couple of aeoniums alive. Could it be that my gardening habits are actually doing more harm than good to our world? Is fighting against nature in this way the very worst kind of gardening? Am I responsible for the temperature extremes that are causing havoc with my tricky choice of plants?

Until next time鈥�

Kevin Smith is a garden writer, and former Commissioning Editor of 大象传媒 Gardeners' World Magazine.

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In the news....
Just imagine waking up to discover a whole Tudor garden you didn't even know you had outside your door.

That's what's happened this week to, near Oundle in Northamptonshire, already one of the oldest surviving gardens in the country. Researching the garden's history from archives held in America, the National Trust's Chris Gallagher found a photo taken from a Luftwaffe plane during the Second World War: clearly outlined were the ten concentric circles of what looks like a Tudor labyrinth some 120 metres across. Archaeological work begins next year.

If you're out in the garden this week don't forget to look up at the sky each evening: one of the autumn's most spectacular sights is wheeling through about now. The reason behind the annual display of starling aerobatics 鈥� also known as murmurations, though 'deafenations' might be more appropriate 鈥� is .

predicts a spectacular show again this year, despite. Find out more on Autumnwatch this Thursday on 大象传媒 Two at 8.30pm.

Elsewhere on the web...
The bulbs have been going in by the thousands this week; actually, make that tens of thousands at , where .听 Stephanie Donaldson 鈥� aka The Enduring Gardener -听 has while garden designer Mary Newstead has a table groaning with unplanted bulbs as she has six gardens to fill: .

And you'll see an old favourite in a whole new light after 鈥� aka the always-knowledgeable Graham Rice. I'll bet you've got a Choisya ternata 'Sundance' somewhere in your garden 鈥� but I bet you haven't clipped it into a rectangular box. Or rather, I hope you haven't.

Out and about...
The rain is lashing, frost is setting in and everything's stopped growing 鈥� but who says you have to stop gardening? Just take cover in the greenhouse and carry on. At , near Glasgow, they're doing just that, and the gardening team are holding a masterclass this afternoon (13 November) on keeping your greenhouse productive right through winter.

You can still go garden visiting, too: one of our best-loved gardens is taking on a very different look this week as, in Gloucestershire, holds the first of six evening openings this Friday (19th November), complete with floodlights to show off trees, plants and architecture in a whole new light.

If you really can't face going outside, there's a rare chance to hear an inspirational talk from legendary garden designer at in London on Wednesday evening (17th November). At least then you can start planning the garden for next year.

Sally Nex is a garden writer and blogger and part of the 大象传媒 Gardening team.

A good cure for the winter blues is to听cast your mind forward to next summer, when your garden听fills听with the heady scent of roses. Or at least, it will do听if you plant some: and now is a great time to order them bare-root -听cheaper, quicker to establish听and听offering you more choice. The choice is bewildering, though, so we asked leading rose breeder to name his top roses to plant this winter.

There are thousands of roses to choose from of all colours, heights, and types. People sometimes ask me to choose a rose for them, and when it's a lady I usually reply, 鈥淲ould you allow me to choose you a dress?鈥�

In other words I find it a daunting task, as the ones I select may well have to adorn her garden for 20 years or more.听 It's very much a matter of taste: once I know the colour the person wants and whether it should be short, medium or tall the choice becomes less onerous.

But how do I choose just a handful of roses from the many thousands of varieties available?听 Well: I've selected a couple of my favourite roses from each colour range, with plenty of different types to cover as broad a range as possible.

There are more pink roses than any other colour. I don't mind this because I'm very fond of them. In 1860 the lovely Portland damask rose 鈥�Comte de Chambord鈥� was introduced, and ever since then it has been doing sterling service in gardens all over the world. It blooms more or less continuously from June through to November, and it will never outgrow its welcome in any garden for its maximum height is no more than 3 feet. In addition to all this it has a superb fragrance: no garden should be without one.

Amongst the reds, I have become fond of a relatively modern hybrid tea, 鈥�Loving Memory鈥�. This rose is of medium stature, shapely and very fragrant.

Orange roses are perhaps the most popular, yet they are not the easiest to grow. Two exceptions to that are the very reliable modern shrub 鈥楪ardeners Joy鈥� and the older floribunda 鈥�Norwich Castle鈥�, both superb in a herbaceous border with, for example, lavender and rosemary.

鈥�Golden Wings鈥� is an aptly named single rose with delightful array of coppery stamens. Growing to about four feet, it blooms continuously all summer.

So far I have discussed only continuous-flowering roses, but there are some verygood old garden roses that flower only in summer. A favourite of mine is the classy 鈥�Mme Hardy鈥�, a pure white damask: its fragrance is intoxicating.

In recent times a number of roses have been introduced in the blue shades. I can't honestly say I have fallen in love with them, but I feel at least one should be mentioned here. 鈥�Rhapsody In Blue鈥�,听 the tall floribunda rose, comes into its own when mixed with white roses - in particular the oft grown and well loved white floribunda 鈥業ceberg.鈥�

Finally, I cannot resist mentioning Rosa glauca, a delightful species rose with glaucous purple foliage. Though its small pink flowers are not conspicuous, it makes up for this in autumn with its lovely dark red hips. They complement its plum coloured stems superbly, providing a much needed dash of colour in the garden.

Find out more about choosing bare-root roses for your garden in Gardeners' World on 12th November at 20:30 on 大象传媒 TWO.

听

One reward working for Gardeners鈥� Question Time is sight-seeing opportunities. We visit all parts of the U.K. and sometimes we whinge about all the travelling. But as I just trained from Norfolk up to York the scene was one of continuous. Possibly Turner could have done justice to such glory but in all my years I鈥檝e seldom seen such tints. The many yellows and browns, a smattering of reds and purples, and the occasional metallic silver of poplars.

The oaks in particular have taken on a deeper gold than usual, with a reddish coppery tinge to some of them. What a delight to sit there watching the miles of nature鈥檚 palette unfold as I passed from the thin sparse vegetation of Breckland and the conifers of Thetford Chase to the black soiled fields of the full of vegetables.

Then whisked past the soft woodlands of the wolds on to the more Spartan grazing lands of Yorkshire. Even the weeds on the sides of the tracks were fine displays with drifts of Michaelmas daisies and yarrow. Back home again the grapevines are dropping their leaves - most turn yellow but some are wine red and purple. I noticed the leaves on an old forsythia suspensa were red on one stem so I鈥檝e made a few cuttings - a colouring form would be handy - shame it鈥檚 such a lax shrub though.

My blueberries are also giving a fantastic show. I鈥檓 surprised they鈥檙e not grown more widely just for their crimson and scarlet foliage, though it鈥檚 dropping quickly. Aronia melanocarpa Viking is another good colouring shrub originally grown for ornament, now this is one of the wonder fruits. Like a blackcurrant but so sour raw it puckers your mouth and is thus called the chokeberry, it鈥檚 actually tasty once cooked with sugar and apple puree.

Apples are all about in profusion, I鈥檓 still juicing them but there are so many I鈥檓 leaving the surplus for my chickens. You can only use so many. I love baked apples, and not just hot. An old Norfolk snack was a cold baked apple. However that was plain, I spice mine; peeled, cored and buttered they鈥檙e coated in sugar, cinnamon and allspice. Then they鈥檙e first eaten hot with baked egg custard and later cold with savoury dishes or stuffed with ice-cream.

Talking of eggs; my old hens are just keeping up with consumption at the moment. But soon they鈥檒l stop and there鈥檒l be that awkward winter break till they recommence laying the end of January. I, well the old birds, have raised some young chickens and I鈥檓 hoping they鈥檒l come into lay and bridge the gap.

These are being spoilt at the moment with all the best scraps and surpluses - not just to encourage earlier egg laying but to put some meat on the young cockerels who are soon destined for the pot. Not a job I relish, but it must be done; they鈥檒l only start slaughtering each other if left for much longer.

The fall - a love poem to my garden

I watch Autumn falling;
wan mellow days drift by,
turning trees reflecting
sun setting from the sky.
Dropping leaves tracing
your face upon the air,
departing and a leaving
boughs and twigs so bare.
Grasses khaki dying,
bare soil cold and dank,
Summer's life expiring
our sun, too soon, it sank.
Bitter gales come raping
pillaging the land, and
wild life flees so fleeting;
their hour-glass out of sand.
Hard times rudely on us
cold winds harshly cry,
for long, too long, now drabness;
there'll be no more warm skies.
For Winter rules; a cruel tide,
it's burdens know no rest.
Oh Spring you have too long to hide
until our life鈥檚 re-blessed.

Bob Flowerdew is an organic gardener and panellist on 大象传媒 Radio 4's Gardeners' Question Time.

Reason for my angst? There have been two cases of听 reported in the press in recent months, the source of infection allegedly traced to COMPOST!听, the first time the text was accompanied by a picture of an allotmenteer forking green vegetable waste on to his compost heap. On the second occasion, the text was accompanied by a close-up of a hand pulling a mature carrot听out of the soil. The facts as quoted attribute the source of the problem to be from a seed/potting compost in a plastic bag 鈥� an entirely different scenario.

These scary, headline-grabbing tactics annoy me because they are misleading and can cause so much mischief!听 Should we be more careful and refer to Growing Medium rather than seed/potting compost?听 Would it make any difference, perhaps not?

Talking about growing medium, like so many, I have come through significant changes over the years. In my early days, was the accepted standard, then for a whole lot of reasons we became embroiled in the soilless compost saga based on the use of granulated peat and nowadays, as we try to move away from that we are confronted with 鈥�peat听free鈥� growing media.

Since we reached this latest phase, I have taken a keen interest in these developments in the , testing many of the new products against a standard peat-based mix and it is just as well that we do! In our very first comparison a number of years ago we听 were able to highlight听 a basic mistake in one formulation which we were able to report back to the manufacturer. The problem was acknowledged by the makers. As time has gone on, it is patently obvious that the formulation are getting better but in my experience they do lack consistency. The arguments for and against the use of peat are raging still but I don鈥檛 intend to join in.听 I do wish however that people wouldn鈥檛 try to adopt rigid deadlines for change, it has to be positive but gradual.听

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In our most recent observations, it was obvious that some manufacturers are almost there whilst others still have some way to go. Note, I use the word 鈥榦bservation鈥� these are not trials in the scientific sense of the word. There is no replication and therefore no statistical analyses.听 My photo illustrates that original 鈥榯rial鈥� showing the style we adopt. The product at the front is exhibiting a lack of growth compared with all the others. This was identified at the time as being the lack of nitrogen because a 鈥榳rong鈥� source had been used.

Jim McColl presents 大象传媒 Scotland's the .

Have you been out to look at your trees just lately? It's a good time of year to do it: with the leaves off, all sorts of hitherto unsuspected problems show themselves. But a patrol of the apple and pear trees in my garden this weekend revealed another rather worrying development: the air around them isn't as clean as I thought.

You see, I had my camera with me and got distracted taking pretty pictures of the lichen growing on their trunks. The appearance of lichens, mosses and liverworts are , as they colonise plants which aren't growing as vigorously as they might be, and a downright annoyance to (though those into Japanese gardening tend towards mossy-lawn envy: gardeners are a hard-to-please bunch).

But look closer and you'll find a whole other garden in miniature, filled with beautiful and strange plants of ethereal silvery-green and shimmering filigree emerald.

Some lichens are incredibly rare: at Wakehurst Place in Sussex . All are resolutely wild, and though you can encourage them in the garden by for that mellow, aged look they bring, it's all but impossible to transplant or seed them yourself.

They're more than just a pretty leaf, though. They also act as early warning systems for air pollution.

Some lichens die out in dirty, nitrogen-rich air, whereas others enjoy a little extra nitrogen and thrive, which is why lichen populations are the focus for the on-going , a 'citizen science' project which has just turned one year old. It's now gathered enough lichen records from gardeners and nature lovers all over the country to draw some interim conclusions about air pollution patterns in the UK.

They're remarkably optimistic: pollution-sensitive lichens are on their way back even in places like London and Birmingham, formerly 'lichen deserts' according to lichenologist Pat Wolseley. Surprisingly, and rather depressingly, though, some of the worst results were in rural areas - attributed to high ammonia levels from intensive agriculture.听听

And that's why, here in the rural south-west, my trees are covered in nitrogen-loving leafy Xanthoria and Physcia. Rather confusingly, there also seem to be tufts of Evernia 鈥� a nitrogen-sensitive type. But then science was never supposed to be easy.

I have intensively-farmed fields all around me: arable fields the other side of the hedge, a sheep field over the road, and more for miles beyond that. So that would explain it. I can't help being a little disappointed to discover I am living in a cloud of ammonia.

If you're interested to find out more about the air you breathe, here are the varieties of lichen to look out for in your garden:

Clean air:

• Usnea: thread like branches, like tiny tufts of grey-green hair
• Evernia: a little reminiscient of seaweed, with branched, grey-green lobes听
• Hypogymnia: Greyish broad, leaf-like lobes lie flat on the branch

Polluted air:

• Cushion anthoria: Yellow, with distinctive orange fruiting bodies like inside-out mushrooms
• Leafy Xanthoria: Smooth yellow carpet spreading across branches: similar orange fruiting bodies
• Physcia: Like Hypogymnia but not as flat: black-tipped whiskers on some lobes

Sally Nex is a garden writer and blogger and part of the 大象传媒 Gardening team.

Whenever I鈥檓 looking for inspiration for my own garden, I find that one of the best places to look is in the gardens of Britain鈥檚 great estates.

In my new series Alan鈥檚 Garden Secrets I鈥檓 looking at 4 of my favourite grand gardens, revealing the secrets of their design, and examining how they continue to influence gardeners, including myself, today.

I鈥檒l reveal how social change dramatically influenced each garden鈥檚 creation and meet the master gardeners who maintain them.

Each garden represents a critical period in gardening history, whether it鈥檚 the bold eccentricity of the Victorian garden at , the sweeping romanticism of the 18th Century Landscape Garden at , the formal 17th Century elegance of or the warm, intimate 'modern' garden at in Kent.听 They are treasure troves of ideas and tips that can be translated to any modern domestic garden.

But where do you start? Here鈥檚 my guide to learning from 4 of our most cherished gardens:

Design Technique 鈥� The Espalier

From Hatfield House in Hertfordshire

The Seventeenth Century saw radical changes in growing fruit trees. At Hatfield we see elaborate fruit trees that have been trained to grow against a south-facing wall. This technique was imported from France and was known as 'The Espalier'. Before The Espalier, fruit trees were trained into mop headed shapes. But by growing a central trunk with a series of tiers against a warm wall, the tree could crop earlier and also be decorative.

Not all of us have a large south-facing wall that we can decorate with a beautiful fruit tree, but there is a cheap and easy alternative that looks good and can be just as productive. Here it is: the Step-over Apple Tree.

Design Technique 鈥� The 'Borrowed View'

From Stowe Gardens in Buckinghamshire

The 18th Century saw the arrival of the sweeping epic gardens created by the ''. The garden at Stowe is a classic example of this. Here we see how the original head gardener used a technique to break down the formal barriers that existed from the previous century in order to open up the estate to the greater landscape. He removed hedges and walls and created a '', a ditch that offered unspoilt views of the surrounding area whilst providing a boundary to farm animals and locals. This enabled Stowe to 'borrow' views of the surrounding area, adding to the garden's naturalistic feel.

But Stowe鈥檚 gardens are hundreds of acres. How do you apply a borrowed view to a smaller plot? Here鈥檚 a clever way to use it to mask an unwanted sight in your garden.

Design Technique 鈥撎� Growing exotics

From Biddulph Grange in Staffordshire

The Victorians were obsessed with status and the great Victorian gardens are showpieces for elaborate design and exotic plants sourced from around the world. Biddulph Grange is a classic example. It was built by , a wealthy industrialist with a passion for plant collecting. Here you鈥檒l find some of the first Japanese maples to be imported to Britain, along with the glorious firebush from Chile and one of the oldest golden larches in the country. The Victorians were also using technology to help these exotics thrive. Biddulph is located in cold Staffordshire, so Bateman built rocky outcrops around his new plants to shelter them and help them thrive. But like many Victorians, his true passion was orchids. At the time this now common plant was rarer than hens teeth, but our love of orchids has stayed with us ever since.

If you want to grow hardy orchids in your garden then here鈥檚 my step by step guide:

Design Technique 鈥� The Garden Room

From Sissinghurst Gardens in Kent

The 20th Century saw a huge growth in British domestic gardens and a greater interest in garden design among the general population. Sissinghurst was very popular in both the pre- and post-war period because its large estate was divided into a series of 'rooms'. These rooms were designed to complement the lifestyle of the owners, and her husband, . Both passionate gardeners, they saw Sissinghurst as more than just a horticultural showpiece, the garden was integral to their lives. Each room was designed separately and served its own purpose, whether it be eating or socialising. Many see the design of these rooms as a forerunner of our modern barbecue or outdoor seating area.

Sissinghurst has inspired me to find new and interesting ways to create areas for relaxing or socialising in my garden. Here鈥檚 an example:

Alan Titchmarsh's Garden Secrets begins on Tuesday 9th November 2010 at 20:00 on 大象传媒 TWO.

For one reason or another, it has not done me much good to think past the day ahead. I haven鈥檛 had the luxury of thinking about much longer. There has always been the possibility of an enormous change at any minute.

There are, of course, advantages to being forced to live here, right now. But there are other much more painful moments.

It鈥檚 funny what rescues you in these moments, some fat plump Griselle sets to plant in new compost, new wooden labels to write upon, a garden that starts at your back door or realizing that you can name all the autumn leaves beneath your feet. And right there that sickening moment has gone and the day unfurls.

The shallot sets say I am staying put, for the next six months at least.

Griselle are sometimes known as grey shallots and as far as taste goes they outstrip any other shallot around. They come from France and are considered by some to be the only true shallot. They have a deep, sweet, heady flavour and none of the bitterness of some onions. They mellow in your mouth and when slow cooked so that they are carmarlised they are heavenly.

These grey shallots have a series of papery grey outer skins, hence the name. They are a more closely related domesticated form of the wild Allium oschaninii than Allium cepa. A. oscahninii is found growing is temperate Asia, around where the garlic crescent lies, in Turkistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Iran. The Persians and Egyptians both revered the shallot and it was thought to be brought into French cuisine under Charlemagne鈥檚 reign. The other characteristic of these shallots is that the thick, fleshy roots persist during bulbing.

You sometimes find them in the supermarket, they tend to be large and plump, where as home grown ones tend to be much smaller, but still pack wonderful flavour, so don鈥檛 judge them too harshly if they don鈥檛 swell to market size.

I am growing mine in wooden crates because in new compost I fear that they may be highly susceptible to all sorts of horrors such as , botrytis and . I鈥檝e given them extra spacing for this reason (I figure this will offer more opportunity for air circulation and less competition stress).

Plus I thought they might get lost in the rather wild polyculture that my garden seems to have adopted. It does feel a little like the garden is running its own plan these days and there are lovely surprises with that. , rocket (wild and cultivated), lamb鈥檚 lettuce and even regular lettuce arrive in gaps, unannounced ready to be left to grow or harvested to leave space. Where as all my sown winter lettuces were munched by slugs whilst I was away in America, the sweet rocket is taking over and I cannot eat it fast enough, so there鈥檚 a lesson learnt, even the chickens seems a little bored by it.

Alys Fowler is a garden writer and presenter of 大象传媒 Gardeners' World.

听

In the news....

If you're about to stock up on wildlife-friendly goodies to help your local ladybirds, lacewings and hedgehogs get through the winter, just hold on a moment. Independent testers 听reported this week on听a year-long test听of听all those ladybird hotels, lacewing chambers, hedgehog boxes and bumblebee nests you buy in the hope of helping wildlife through winter.

They found . In fact home-made versions were more successful: log piles, compost heaps and nettle patches are far more popular with passing wildlife, and a lot cheaper, too.

Gardening clip of the week: you may be astonished to know that Top Gear presenter James May has been doing some gardening for his current series Man Lab. Perhaps his foray into the RHS Chelsea Flower Show last year听went to his head. As you might expect, it involves driving: but the vehicle in question is a picnic table. Watch and giggle.

Elsewhere on the web...

It's Bonfire Night weekend, and there's autumn in the air, inspiring garden bloggers everywhere to get out their cameras and take some听dazzling shots for the latest blogging meme from America, , mapping autumn arriving in gardens across the world.

Happy Mouffetard took things literally, ), VP has been , and Allan Jenkins over听at the Guardian is showing off . Meanwhile if you're getting fed up of all that orange, yellow and red, .

Incidentally, on the subject of bonfires: it may be worth reading wildlife gardener before you take a match to yours. Slumbering hedgehogs will thank you forever.

Out and about...

If you enjoyed Clive Nichols's post on garden photography last week, you'll love the early-morning听 photography sessions held at throughout November. also holds a photography workshop on autumn colours on Tuesday (9 November).

A winter garden is something we all wish we'd planted at this time of year 鈥� and at, they've just created the UK's largest. Find out from the head gardener how they did it on Thursday (11 November).

And for an extra garden challenge this winter, go diamond-hunting at . They're celebrating their 60th anniversary this month by burying a 拢2,500 diamond somewhere in the grounds. You follow clues around the garden, work out where you think it is and mark the spot with an X. The closest entry to its actual location wins the gem. Incidentally, it's not worth taking a spade along: the real thing is locked up safely till 28th November, when the winner is announced. Good luck!

Sally Nex is a garden writer and blogger and part of the 大象传媒 Gardening team.

听

It鈥檚 so interesting working in a garden after the first frosts. You notice the scorched blackened wilted appearance of so many plants. But more amazing is those that have, temporarily, survived. It鈥檚 all about micro-climate. So pelargoniums in against a warm wall have found it easy to survive these first frost attacks though prolonged cold will get them eventually most years.

Oddly some of my pumpkin plants have survived till now while others not far away are withered - I suspect it is that the former are in the lee of a tall hedge which screens them from the early morning sun.

Apparently sudden de-frosting does more damage than slower. Certainly an old trick to preserve fruit blossoms was to hose them with cold water as then they suffered less than if exposed to the sudden warmth of the sun. All fine and good. But why on earth should the in a tall vase one side of my front door be scorched and the identical one next to it untouched? It鈥檚 hard to be sure. Perhaps the gushing warm air from the house envelops the stricken one while the outer, outward opening door shields the other. Maybe.

听

Both vases have an Aloe vera plant surviving as yet. Last spring we had a Gardeners' Question Time questioner up north claiming his Aloe vera had come through last winter outdoors! Doubting the veracity but never having actually tested one I immediately planted several outdoors in different spots to see how they鈥檒l react to this coming winter. I鈥檝e my doubts but shall see.

I like 鈥榯esting鈥� items that come up on GQT- one lady had a twelve foot Christmas tree in a foot pot! I have been torturing one since to see if I can replicate this feat. It survives the root bondage but does not grow nearly as high. I reckon some of my sunflowers nearly made twelve foot - my kids have of course been owning these and we鈥檙e saving seed so they can 鈥榞row鈥� them again next year. I鈥檓 clearing their stems - too big and thick to easily compost but rich in potash I would burn them however I鈥檓 putting them aside to weave into a wildlife wall instead.

The nasturtiums, last beans and other tender stuff are off to the compost heap as those frosts have stopped them. I鈥檓 taking the fleece off my cabbages as caterpillar damage is unlikely from now on. But I鈥檓 leaving the fleece over the carrots and adding to it that from the cabbages as two together will stop the carrots being easily frozen in. They鈥檙e much better this year than last - huge fat roots, especially the golden Yellowstone which are rivalling parsnips. Last year my carrots were poor so I sowed far more this spring in case, now I鈥檝e a glut. As the potato crop was light they could substitute a bit; but you can only eat so much carrot mash or carrot chips. Still sticky carrot cake is gorgeous so I鈥檓 sure they鈥檒l be utilised.

Bob Flowerdew is an organic gardener and panellist of 大象传媒 Radio 4's Gardeners' Question Time

听

may soon be able to add an entry in the to their achievements after breaking the world record for the most people playing conkers at the same time this weekend (you can : much fun was clearly had by all).

The previous record, 197 matches played by 394 people, . An eyewatering 1,600 conkers and 502 matches later, Wisley thinks it's got it in the bag - though it'll need verifying before it's official.

So come on then, 'fess up: what was (or, indeed, is) your best conker?

听

听

Mine, remembered with much fondness and not a little pride, was a thirty-er. Yes, you heard right. For three years I brought it to the playground as the undisputed school champion until some whippersnapper three-er clobbered it to smithereens. I still think skulduggery was afoot: baked, I reckon, or maybe soaked in vinegar.

The winner of the would never have stooped so low. Veteran conker-player Ray Kellock attributed his victory to a combination of 'kinetic and potential energy'.

A sad sign of the times though: the organisers had to appeal for help to find decent-sized conkers.

Our conker trees are under threat as never before. There are two culprits: 听is a tiny caterpillar which burrows into the leaves and turns them autumnal before their time, causing trees to produce smaller, more brittle conkers. But that is as nothing compared to : it's already claimed Anne Frank's horse chestnut tree in Amsterdam and there are now whispers that horse chestnuts may go the same way as elms if it can't be stopped.

Fortunately , and there are . Let's hope one of them comes up with the goods before it's too late.

听

听

You do need a lot of space to grow your own conkers: a mature horse chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum) is a magnificent tree, with a height and spread of around 25m, so not one for a small garden (or even a medium-sized one).

If you haven't got a field to spare, though, there are alternatives:

Indian Horse Chestnut (A. indica) is half the height at around 12m tall, and has some resistance to bleeding canker

A. x neglecta 'Erythroblastos' is an exquisitely beautiful small tree at 12m: the leaves turn from apricot to lime green to bronze through the season. I guarantee you will lose your heart to it.

And if you're really short of space, the American bottlebrush buckeye (A. parviflora) at 5m tall by 3m wide almost qualifies as a large shrub. It's a bit of a spreader, so best kept in check听with some judicious pruning.

Whichever you choose, you're in for a treat: all members of the family share gorgeous palmate leaves and great frothy spires of flowers. And as for the conkers: if anyone knows the secret technique that might have done for my thirty-er, I'd like to hear about it.

Sally Nex is a garden writer and blogger and part of the 大象传媒 Gardening team.

It is sometimes appropriate to put a little more salt in your porridge to bring out the flavour or add a splash of spring water to your nightcap of malt whisky, it releases the bouquet and heightens the expectation!

What the dickens does that have to do with gardening I hear you say?听 Add a little lime to your soil and improve results the following season, just another one of those pearls of wisdom learned at Daddy鈥檚 knee!

So, it is that time of year again when we ought to test our soils by analysis. You can choose to use the services of agencies that offer such facilities or you can choose a DIY kit. I tend to do the job myself but once in a while, I send a sample off to the laboratory to have the results reported more accurately.听 In our case, the in Aberdeen offers a good service.

To digress for a moment, I should add that 鈥楾he Macaulay鈥� as it is referred to colloquially is in the process of being integrated with the (SCRI) which among other things, has been responsible for producing a great string of new soft fruit cultivars, like the , the and the or brambles.

In my experience, vegetable gardeners have to be constantly reminded to check the lime status of their soil because, certainly in our part of the world, the pH of the soil tends to drift downwards.听 This , as gardeners know, is used to indicate the degree of acidity or alkalinity of a soil.听 Neutral being pH7, decreasing numbers indicate increasing acidity and increasing numbers rising alkalinity.听 Most vegetable crops do best when the range lies between pH6 and pH 7. There we have it.

(It is essential for non-mathematicians like myself to appreciate that, because the pH scale is a logarithmic scale, a change in reading by 0.1 e.g. from 6.0 to 6.1 is BIG!).

Adding lime at the appropriate rate in the coming months will act as a key to the release of essential nutrients that are locked up as the soil becomes more acidic. Many gardeners, who actively try to rotate their crops, will choose to apply the lime to that part of the plot which is destined to carry the brassica crops in the following year. Their reasoning is very sound, especially if there is any likelihood of there being in the soil. This fungal organism does not go away. It attacks the roots of brassicas and can cause complete crop failure. The application of lime does NOT control clubroot but it will slow down its development, long enough for the plants to be able to produce a decent crop. More of that anon.

The corollary to this tale, which affects people who garden on alkaline soil, is the need to use plenty organic material which, by nature, will reduce pH levels. I should add, the exception to that general statement is the wonderful material we know as 鈥榮pent mushroom compost鈥� it is likely to have no effect in reducing pH.

Jim McColl presents 大象传媒 Scotland's .