"Dwarf" Fruit Trees

In my first post, I mentioned that when I first moved in to this house, I planted three dwarf fruit trees. I promised I'd tell you more about them later. This probably counts as one of my biggest garden fails, was a total rookie mistake, and I'm still not sure how to fix it. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

When we first moved in I was super excited about the idea of food forest gardening - a low effort gardening technique that mimics the multilevel production found in nature. I wanted to get fruit trees planted quickly, so theyd get on with producing fruit quickly (generally speaking, fruit trees take about 3 years to go from bare root plants to producing fruit).

I ordered bareroot dwarf grafted apple, plum and pear trees (Braeburn apple, Conference pear and Victoria Plum if I remember rightly, but it was a long time ago). 

My planting technique was good -they arrived in early November and the weather was quite mild with the soil neither frozen nor waterlogged. I dug a hole about twice the size of the rootball, threw in some fish, blood and bone fertilizer, and planted the trees, backfilling the hole with a mixture of compost and the soil I'd dug up to plant them, up to the soil mark on the trunk where they'd obviously been planted before. They stood about 4 feet high, and the planting instructions (such as they were, you don't get many instructions with budget plants) assured me they'd grow to around 5foot, maximum. That suited my garden size. So far so good.

What went wrong?

My planting technique was great. But my planning left an awful lot to be desired, and my pruning...well.

I've always been scared of pruning. I worry about cutting back too harshly and damaging the tree, or inviting in disease and pests. And I figured that wild trees never get pruned, and they're fine. This was one occasion where I should've ignored my instincts and got some advice from a seasoned gardener.

Fast forward 10 years, and I'm trying to reclaim the garden. The apple tree is a nice size. It struggled to get going because the corner I planted it in doesn't have a lot of light and it is competing for nutrients with a huge overgrown hedge and other wild plants, but this past two years it's given us a bumper crop, with no maintenance at all. One out of three aint bad I guess.

The Conference pear and Victoria Plum are now both well over 30 feet high and still growing. 

Here is the Victoria Plum, taken from an upstairs window. Dwarf tree she most definitely is not. Despite all that blossom, we had only one plum this year. I'm not sure if that's just because the birds were stripping the fruits off when they were tiny, or if the tree has just put so much energy into height, it has nothing left to give for fruit.

As you can see, I planned the site of the tree badly. It's up against my boundary, so I can't walk all the way around the tree, and my lack of pruning means it's now helplessly out of control, and I'm not sure how to rescue it, or if it even is salvageable at all. If you have advice, I'd be very happy to hear it.

It's a similar story with the Conference Pear. It shot up and is a similar height to the plum, but it has never fruited, and blossomed only once.

 Looking back I think it may have had signs of pear tree rust when I first got it, so I always assumed that's why it didn't fruit, but much like the plum, it's now far too huge to manage anyway, and poorly sited so I can't walk around it.  At least the birds love to nest in them, and we get the joy of being greeted by song every time we step out the door.

So, that went wrong. That's something I find myself saying a lot when it comes to the garden. But there's hope for my mixed orchard yet.

The picture is pretty awful, but during the years of neglect the Victoria Plum must've dropped a plum, and it has grown into a healthy looking little sapling.

It's currently just under my shoulder height, and seems really happy, so I'm going to wait until the dormant season and then attempt to move it across the garden to become part of my mixed native hedge.  It's really important I don't let it grow out of control like the others (apart from anything else, that would upset my neighbours and block light to my planned veg garden) but I'm thinking that if I'm brave about pruning it should be fine. And if I cut it back too hard and it dies, I won't have lost any money on it.  I'm not sure it'll ever fruit, coming from a dropped seed rather than being a grafted tree, but I'm always happy to have more nesting sites in my garden for the birds and the insects. After all, they were here before me, it's their home too.

When I move it, I'll try and film the process to show you how it's done.

In The Beginning...

The Kitchen Witch's Garden

Most of the people reading this blog will have come over from twitter, where my kitchen garden journey began under the hashtag #VsBoringGardenTweets. Those folk will have to forgive me for going over old ground here while I catch you all up with the story so far.

I moved to my current home about 10 years ago. Before this place we lived in a tiny flat with a shared garden we weren't allowed to cultivate, so when we were given a small front yard and medium sized back garden we were really excited. Ha!

We planted three "dwarf" fruit trees (more on those later) out back, then focused on trying to make the front garden neater. I had visions of restoring what had obviously once been a beautiful cottage garden. My dreams were quickly swallowed by bindweed, brambles, and ground elder. In the end I rescued what I could (a few of the giant daisies and the fuchsia) and plonked them in the back garden, then ripped up what was left, covered it in weed suppressing material and topped it with gravel. I was gutted - I try hard to work with Mother Nature rather than against her, and a sea of stone chips isn't exactly environmentally friendly. It felt like a huge fail, and that my dream of wandering through my kitchen garden, deciding what was for tea based on what was ripe, was destined to stay just that-a dream.

Disgruntled, disenchanted, and more than a little daunted, I ignored the back garden completely. For about a decade.

You know what happens when you ignore a garden for 10 years? Mother Nature gets to work.

The pic above shows about a quarter of the garden before I started working on it, but the photo doesn't really do it justice. The brambles were taller than me (I'm 5'3") and as thick as my wrist. I had no money, no skills or expertise, and no tools to speak of.

The advantage to starting with an absolute mess though, is that whatever you do, you can't really make things worse. Armed with some kitchen scissors, a small hacksaw, and a lot of determination, I went in. A full-on smallholding wasn't going to create itself (and a fully self sufficient one is likely not possible on the little land I have) but I could make a start.

I didn't know I was going to be blogging our journey to a kitchen garden when I started, so unfortunately I didn't take many pictures of the clearing out process.

I chopped everything to the ground with my trusty kitchen scissors and an elderly hacksaw. It won't lie and say it was easy, it was horrendous. A few days in though, I was lent an electric hedge trimmer. That made the process much quicker and, despite having a budget of basically nothing, I decided that was an investment worth making, so I bought one of my own. That made the whole process much easier and quicker and, despite having cut myself to ribbons on brambles and not having a single speck of my body that wasn't covered in nettle rash, I managed to get most of the brambles, ivy, nettles, and bindweed cut to ground level. I felt like a superhero, and my garden felt huge.

I had no idea what to do next, so I appealed to twitter to give me no-budget garden tips. Turns out, the gardening community are absolutely adorable and love nothing more than helping a clueless novice like me get growing.

I was inundated with advice, and given some seeds, gloves and even some gardening tools. Definitely easier than trying to dig with a tablespoon and prune with kitchen scissors.

My shed is currently full of old junk that I couldn't take to the tip, so I decided to reuse what I could, both to save money, and as an attempt to make less of an impact on the natural world. I didn't take pics of the process (although I'll try to make you a step by step guide for a future post) but I turned a couple of broken drawers and old bookshelves into raised beds/planters, and turned my youngest's old cot into a pea trellis.

When I was done clearing and building some beds, it looked something like this:

Hard to believe it's the same section of garden, isn't it?

The path was already there (which was news to me), but the rest if it was built by me, over the course of a couple of weeks.  In the top left of the picture, you can see the base of the cot leaning against the house. I dug the bottom of it in to stabilise it and that will (hopefully!) be the trellis for my jasmine plants to climb up.

Below that in the pic, still on the left, you can see the old bookcases I made into raised beds.  The bed next to them is where the giant daisies and fuchsia from the front garden were dumped, and you can see a planter with some strawberries in, and a green bag that has seed potatoes in.

On the top right of the image is the pea trellis I made out of the cot sides (I'll do a detailed post about that in the near future) and below that is the raised beds made of old drawers. It wasn't too bad as a quick bodge, but I'll be doing my future raised beds differently.

The garden is a huge work in progress still. We've learned what works, what definitely doesn't, and why, pretty as it undoubtedly is, we hate bindweed. We've had some excellent crops and some epic fails, and learned a lot about the needs of our particular garden. I'll try and catch you up with the story so far in future posts.

Next year, I want to go all out, and turn about half the garden into a fully functioning allotment. I till have no idea what I'm doing (although I feel more confident in my ignorance now), I still have no money, and this very "helpful" beast

has decided that he really likes digging too. But the benefits, for my mental health, for my physical health, for my children's newly found tolerance of vegetables, and for the local wildlife, far outweighs the nettle rash, bad backs, and epic pintrest fails.

I've loved growing some food this year, and feeling closer to the earth. Hopefully now I have the skills under my belt to scale everything up -or learn a few hundred more ways that don't work.

Come along with me as I battle bindweed and brambles and try to turn my neglected garden into a functional kitchen garden on a shoestring, without upsetting Mother Nature too much.