Covid 19, Prepping, Orchard and Mice (16-22 Mar.)

Isolation in the countryside

This week Jim was meant to go to work in the USA. But for the first time in decades he won’t be hopping on a plane this month. Instead he is confined to the house, thanks to the Coronavirus pandemic. It will be interesting to see how he copes with this new pace of life.

Covid 19 has even reached the remote realm of the Scottish Borders with cases reported in Hawick and Jedburgh - an area that usually feels quite detached from the rest of the world is suddenly connected. In a normal week, you could quite easily lose track of ‘real life’ up here on the moor, should you choose. But a few subtle things let on what’s happening in the outside world. It’s unusually quiet, and whereas the sky is usually streaked with vapour trails, now there might be only one of a morning. The distant hiss and whoosh of traffic has dwindled such that the birds are more audible. We feel a persistent low level anxiety that something is wrong. It is astonishing how swiftly our complex and advanced world has been brought to a standstill. Things which seemed immutable have been shaken and we are yet to understand the full ramifications of this disruption.

Being confined here is not so bad. With an acre of garden and then hundreds of acres of moorland and woodland around us - you can easily spend an entire day walking around outside without seeing a soul. Only two weeks ago a friend asked me if I wouldn’t rather be back in the city so I could be closer to ‘everything’. Right now, I’m quite glad to be as far from it as possible although I’m fully aware that food supply here will be far trickier than in the city.

I recognise just how lucky we are and my heart goes out to those who have been separated from their loved ones by travel bans, or are confined to limited spaces.

Beyond a radio 4 news update in the morning, I couldn’t face the media much this week. Conversely, Jim checked his devices every five minutes or more, and reported grim new stats that spelled doom, if not a vastly denuded economy for the foreseeable future. Commentators began to talk about the UK lockdown as lasting a year.

Prepping

The prospect of a year confined to our house is not an unpleasant one, as long as we have enough to eat and can get our hands on a good supply of wine (which we are currently drinking as if we were on holiday). But I’m sad to say I hold a great deal of unease about the certainty of either of those. For the last ten years I have read numerous reports articulating the lack of resilience in our national food system. The UK imports around 50% of its food, then wastes 1/3 of it, and has hugely inequitable food distribution which leaves chunks of the population in ‘food poverty’. Our ‘just in time’ food system - dominated by 5 companies - is already struggling in the face of this crisis.

I don’t have much confidence in the effectiveness of supply chains over the coming weeks and months. So this week the garden has jumped to being my number one priority. I have been planning, clearing, feeding, mulching and sowing like my life depended on it. I do hope that it doesn’t, but there’s no harm in being prepared.

Competition

Of course, it’s still early in the season, but I’ve prepped the outdoor beds as best I can, and the newly paved poly tunnel is being put to good use. The only issue is that the mice are eating my seeds as quickly as I can plant them. I am catching two per night in very snappy instant- death traps loaded with peanut butter - a necessary evil. The only solution as far as I can see, is to plant the most delectable seeds (spinach and chard, apparently) in high sided, plastic containers (window boxes) which can be perched somewhere inacccessible. Jim tells me that nowhere is inaccessible to a mouse. We shall see.

Orchard in the making

A lovely friend of ours has given us two fruit trees as an engagement present (Jim and I are
planning on getting married this summer although who knows how that will happen now).

My plan is to make an orchard in the paddock to the north of the property. This patch has good sun exposure and there are trees to the east which should prevent fruit tree buds that have been touched by frost from thawing out too quickly upon sunrise.

I’m unsure whether its wise to just start planting trees there, or whether I need to prepare the ground first. The area got quite flooded during the winter storms and I think we will need to tend to the land drains around that area before we can work the soil or plant anything successfully. Also, according to the permacultural approach, I should really be observing the space for a year before making any permanent infrastructural changes, including tree planting.

Luckily the previous owners left two big tubs which I filled with hardcore (taken from removing
the polytunnel floor), soil taken from the intended orchard spot, and some tree/shrub compost
we bought from our local indie garden centre. Because we’re in a windy spot, I’ve placed them
against a wooden fence and shored them up with twine to stop them moving in the wind. Wind
can prevent trees from establishing roots if it causes them to rock in their container or wherever
they’ve been planted.

The trees are a medlar (Nottingham) and quince (Champion) - two quite unusual fruit trees.
Medlars are very old fashioned - producing a small, apple-like fruit that has a fragrant slightly
savoury flavour and big pips. They’re not super easy to eat so have not been commercialised at
all. Both medlar and quince produce beautiful blossoms and are great for pollinators. It’ll be a
few years before they produce any fruit, and hopefully by then they’ll be planted out in the
orchard along with a bunch of other trees.