We will steep comfrey in water for a fortnight to make a fertilizer tea
Love the feeling of leaving work and heading straight to the allotment. Just change your shoes and another life opens out (though changing my shirt when liberally spraying cow muck might also have been a good idea).
Although the soil at the plot is as good as it gets (the chards we planted Saturday are already up, and the corn and sunflowers have added three or four inches since Sunday), we have been fretting a bit about fertilizer. So I went hunting around our old plot and found half a barrel of saturated manure had left there last year, topped it up with water and sprayed it around (the straw kept clogging the watering can, hence the shit-soaked shirt).
Next I collected comfrey to make the evil smelling 'tea' (see last year's howl of anguish at futile attempts to remove the stench), but next to nettles (and maybe seaweed, which doesn't grow on-site) it is the best of the home-made brews.
Millions of slug-specific nematodes waiting to be unleashed
My other crappy task of the evening was to finally get to grips with the nematodes. Had left them late (on their expiry date) as have found the idea of spraying 12 million microscopic, hermaphroditic slug-killers a little daunting. But they are there now in the soil and hopefully weaving their evil magic. Am ignoring any tiny tinges of guilt. It may be genocide but the slugs and snail should have learnt to share.
