Signs & Symbols

The sun is out and has been blazing its damndest.  Glinting off the pure white sand blown away from the Lochaline quarry.

Even with a lack of water the countryside and the garden are blooming away.  This fecundity brings with it a host of garden pests, all with their own telltale signs: sawfly larvae can strip the gooseberry bushes of leaves in a week and the first sign is two rows of neat, perfectly spaced holes on a couple of leaves as the eggs hatch from the underside; goldfinches pick away at the buds on the fruit trees leaving them brown, damaged and useless; wireworm burrow into the potatoes leaving a neat hole but a rotten interior; the pine marten gorges on our cherries (attracted by the bright red colour) leaving piles of poo filled with cherry stones.

The most destructive pest however is the EIV, the eager, ignorant visitor.  I left the cottage on Sunday to go to work in Glasgow and returned on Friday to the ominous words from C "The garden's looking great! the volunteers have done some fabulous work!" The garden is indeed looking great but mainly thanks to fruit trees planted 20 years ago and years of wild flower planting by my mother (slightly slowed down by last year's EIV who sprayed the wild flowers with glyphosate to 'neaten' the garden).  Alas the EIV's had been at the vegetable plot so that my dill, rhubarb and onions had all been dug up and there were a couple of suspicious footprints in the salad bed.

We do love visitors and C is especially fond of them.  The volunteers from workaway have been excellent: the admin is pretty arduous but C has really enjoyed the company and the help.  We love eager visitors - over the years they've built, fixed and decorated many bits of Drumbuidhe.  We love ignorant visitors - this is our home and we're delighted to explain its details and delights to all who visit.  However the combination of vague instructions from a demented elderly gentleman; a complete lack of knowledge about my garden and a willingness to 'have a go' produce disasterous results.  I do get mightly hacked off sorting out EIV's efforts and I'm at a bit of a loss as to how to prevent them.  I've had numerous talks with C about what needs to be done in the garden ranging from 'absolutely nothing' to 'weeding the raspberry beds - nothing else' but still my herbs get removed, my stored seaweed gets used to kill my salad and potatoes planted so we can enjoy them freshly dug are removed early for storage.  I'm mystified by people who think they understand someone else's garden and whilst I've considered putting signs up "Do not do anything!" I suspect that EIVs would ignore these, confident that their good intentions mean the signs did not apply to them.

So this is a general plea to helpful visitors everywhere: check with the person who planted the garden before you touch the plants.

Fabulous though the garden is, the location means there are some things we just can't grow but the market in Partick provided a stack of cheap tomatoes for the classic summer soup.  I studied architecture for six months in Seville and found the heat in mid-summer destroyed any appetite and energy I had.  I lived on a combination of gazpacho served with my landlady's unlimited olive oil and black coffee served by the air-conditioned cafe across the road.  This recipe is taken from Lindsey Bareham's Good Soup Book


Gazpacho

1kg ripe tomatoes, skinned and roughly chopped
250g stale white bread
1 cucumber, peeled and chopped
8 spring onions chopped
2 garlic cloves chopped
2 red peppers, skinned, de-seeded and chopped
3 tablespoons sherry vinegar
5 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons vegetable stock
900ml water

blend the ingredients together and chill for at least 4 hours but longer is better

serve with whatever you fancy from bread, olive oil, croutons, diced ham, hard-boiled eggs, chopped peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions.....