“Sir, Last summer I grew some strawberries which, after the cost of the hanging baskets, plants and soil, ended up costing me exactly £2.63 per strawberry. There is a reason why we have mass producers and large retailers.”

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/letters/article5785755.ece

I can’t help but sympathise with this chap’s predicament. Like many non-gardeners out there, he’s misunderstood the advice – perhaps it would be better described as a rumour – that suggests the best way to respond to the current economic crisis is to grow your own veg. Well, let’s see.

In a series of forthcoming weekly articles, I’m going to explain why so many first-timers go wrong with vegetable gardening, how they could avoid the pitfalls, and more importantly how they can grow vegetables and fruit without it costing the earth.

Home-grown veg is not only tastier and fresher than anything you can buy in a shop, it also costs a fraction as much to produce – IF YOU GROW ABOUT IT THE RIGHT WAY.

Mr Smith from London evidently didn’t. I’ll take a break here. Let’s have a nice picture of Rachel De Thame:

Mmmm, Rachel. Intermission over. Now, let’s start at the beginning. Rule number one with gardening is to never buy anything unless you absolutely need it, and only then if you can’t get it for free. Compost costs nothing to make, so start producing some as soon as possible. For garden waste, nail a few old pallets together to make a bin. Not got space? Make a kitchen composter – yes, these aren’t hard to make, you don’t need to buy a proprietary one.

Okay, with tools I’ve been very lucky. I inherited most of mine. Some go as far back as my great-grandfather, and I’m not entirely certain what one or two of them are actually for – Spanish Inquisition tools of the trade, perhaps. If you’re starting from scratch, and can’t borrow any, then spend as much as you can afford on those tools that you really need. Cheap, flimsy ones, are false economy. See it as a long term investment.

Which seed to buy? There’s no simple answer to that, but if you’re on a tight budget then forget anything with organic or heirloom on the packet unless it’s on offer or better still, free. The premium payable for F1 Hybrid seeds, which are, for some reason, often confused with genetically modified seeds even though they’re nothing of the sort, can often be worth paying. Stronger, healthier plants with increased weed and drought tolerance can save you money in the long run.

So, you’ve sown your seeds, but there’s half a packet left. What do you do with it, bin it? Surprising as it sounds, plenty of new gardeners do just that. I’ve often heard the phrase “always use fresh seed” bandied about, but in most cases you don’t need to. Other than carrot and parsnip seed, most will keep for several years. Squash the air out of the packaging, and store it in a tin with either some sawdust or a few silica gel bags in it.

Here’s the really good bit, though. Provided your plant isn’t an F1 Hybrid, you can collect and use seed from it – YES, that means FREE seed. With some plants it’s easier than with others, and I personally only bother doing it with beans, but still, the savings all add up.

Could Mr Smith from London have got his strawberry plants for free? I believe so. Strawberries, as with certain other plants – notably rhubarb and raspberries – are the “comes with free gift” of the fruit and vegetable garden. Increasing the stock of these is so easy that gardeners often end up giving their spares away. Had Mr Smith from London spoken to a few gardeners I’m sure he could have been a recipient in such a horticultural giveaway. Alas, he didn’t, and so wasn’t

Save every penny possible, make do and mend, etc, etc. Need a plant pot or even a tray to start seeds in? Old yoghurt pots, food tins, and loo rolls make great starter pots as do sheets of newspaper rolled into a cylinder. Ready meal cartons make superb seed trays. Want a plant label? Cut an old margarine tub into narrow strips and then into stakes for writing on. Plant cloche? Cut the bottom off a milk or fizzy drink bottle and use that.

Next week, I’ll discuss soil preparation. How to turn overgrown, weed infested land into something you can start growing on, quickly, without chemicals, and at no cost.

Comments are always welcome.

NB: Mr Smith, if by some remote chance you’re reading this, I really suggest you get out more.

Vegetable Garden Under Snow

Chamomile Lawn Under Snow

And just in: My garlic patch suffered an avalanche from the greenhouse roof and is now flattened and buried beneath a pile of the white stuff. It had only just recovered from an earlier attack by the resident canis lupus labradorus who shares its name, and who, coincidentally, didn’t appreciate the snow:

Did you know that a snowstorm can drop forty million tons of snow, and carry the equivalent energy of 120 atom bombs? Well you do now.

It’s a mystery to me why so few people grow their own fruit and veg. More so now, than ever. The economic depression that the UK is certainly facing (doom monger, moi?) should be the kick-start that’s needed. It’s like the thirties and forties all over again. Let’s get the lawn mowing, border hoeing masses to tear up their turf, rip up their ornamentals, and say no to such decorative nonsense. A proper garden should be like a healthy version of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, not a florist’s shop window. I want to see “War Gardens,” aplenty. The nation’s wallet and its waistline would benefit no end.

There’s no excuse. Even a blind chap managed it:

The winter cole crops chez Bonnett are doing well as are the autumn-planted broad beans (Aquadulce Claudia), and onions (Radar). The cloches are down, ready and waiting for more broad beans (Bunyards Exhibition) to be sowed next week, and the buckets are doing a superb job forcing some rhubarb.

The CDs have, so far, kept the pigeons away from the brassicas, and pest numero uno, also known as Lepus Europaeus – or more commonly “a ****ing hare,” now has his work cut out if he wishes to gain burglarious entry. I suspect, though, that the devious fellow will somehow find a way around, over, under, or through the buried chicken wire fence that now surrounds the garden. Hare-proof, is, I believe, an oxymoron.

—-FIN—-

Oh, okay. A discussion of war gardens just wouldn’t be complete without due mention of the Dig For Victory anthem, so sing along now:

‘Dig! Dig! Dig! And your muscles will grow big.
Keep on pushing the spade.
Don’t mind the worms, just ignore their squirms.
And when your back aches laugh with glee.
And keep on diggin’, till we give our foes a wiggin’.
Dig! Dig! Dig! To Victory!’

They don’t write ‘em like that any more…