Own Grown Gardening

Yesterday, on our allotment plot, I worked on completing the rather mundane task of topping up our access paths with woodchips. The Council's tree surgeons very kindly dump piles of the stuff at the top of the site, so my job involved hauling endless wheelbarrow loads back and forth. Good exercise. While filling my barrow yet again, my heart suddenly skipped a beat when I uncovered the beauty pictured above, not out of fear but elation and wonder.  A slow worm! Although alone, this burst from my lips all the same.  I haven't seen a slow worm in years. Interestingly, their Latin name of Anguis fragilis translates as ' fragile snake ', but they aren't actually snakes (or worms) at all. Misnomers all over the place! Instead, they are legless lizards . Unlike snakes, and like lizards, slow worms have eyelids . This gives them the ability to close their eyes, which snakes simply can't do. A slow worm can also shed its tail when attacked to provide the predator a di

  It is the time of year again to propagate our alpine strawberries ( Fragaria vesca ). Throughout the summer, these tiny ruby-red gems burst with a sour sweetness far more flavoursome than full sized garden strawberries. I know this is a stroke of good luck, however, because the same can't be said of all alpine or wild strawberries. Many look luscious, but taste of little more than watery nothingness, from personal experience.  I know you're now anxious to know what variety I grow. Unfortunately, I'm at a loss to tell you. The single little plant I originally bought was sold simply as an alpine strawberry. This is interesting in itself, however, because alpine strawberries are not known for producing runners . These ones definitely do. Just take a look at this tangle.  All those new little daughters are still attached to their mother plants by runners, also called stolons , that act a lot like umbilical cords.  The fact these plants produce such exuberant runners has alway