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<title>BBC NEWS | Gardeners World</title>
<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/</link>
<description>Thoughts on the gardening year, from the presenters and team behind Gardeners&apos; World </description>
<language>en-us</language>
<copyright>Copyright 2009</copyright>
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<item>
	<title>Autumn is truly here</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>November already! I'm sure I'm not the only one wondering where the summer went. I think that late burst of heat fooled me into thinking we'd rewound the clock back to July. But Halloween arrived this weekend and with it, the first autumn storm that stripped the leaves from the trees so there's no denying that autumn is truly here. </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>In my garden in Devon the dahlias and zinnia are starting to look bedraggled but the nerines, which I planted as bulbs back in March are still holding strong. They're Cadillac-pink when they open, about 18in tall and brilliant planted on top of raised beds or next to a warm wall where the drainage is good. </p>

<p>N. bowdenii is the hardiest but the larger 'Zeal Giant' has been a revelation. It's usually grown in a greenhouse but I thought I'd take a chance with it outdoors, in the gravelly sun-soaked border next to my greenhouse. Since September, it's been in flower with larger, taller trumpets than the species, up to 60cm high. I love the colour - a stronger cerise-pink which really glows even amongst the serious competition of tangerine coloured zinnia and the raspberry cactus dahlia 'Matilda Huston'. </p>

<p>The key to keeping them through the winter is to keep the bulbs on the dry side, so my plan is to cover the died-down clump with a heavy glass cloche to shed the rain and ensure these floral fireworks make a return next autumn. </p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/11/autumn_is_truly_here.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/11/autumn_is_truly_here.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Mon, 02 Nov 2009 14:23:01 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>A plantsman&apos;s progress</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>I've finally got round to planting the eriobotryia at the bottom of my garden. It's massive - 50-litres of rootball that I've kept alive with liquid feeds and foliar feeds of seaweed since bringing it back from Gardeners' World Live last summer. After a good soaking in, I can leave it to look after itself and strike its weekly maintenance off my to-do list. The satisfaction of finally getting this plant in the ground is akin to putting in the last piece of a jigsaw. And that's not the only progress this weekend - I've been on and off the phone to the landscaping team (Ned, Phil and Joe) who have been laying turf and paving at Greenacre. Pictures of stone samples and ideas on where to lay the leftover turf (there's always some left on the pallet) have been buzzed back and forth from our mobile phones. Although not a technophobe, I'm not usually interested in the advances of phones that so fascinate my children, but seeing images of Greenacre bounced in real time from a satellite to me while I've worked in my garden is pretty miraculous!</p>]]><![CDATA[<p>What a great day, so much done and a slightly sunburnt nose as proof of a day spent under a cloudless sky. Then at 8:38pm, on the advice of my brother, I stood out on the balcony to see one of the great sights you can see from your garden - the Space Shuttle and International Space Station gliding like a slow-shooting star over my house. You can find the times of when it goes over on the internet. To think astronauts are up there, tirelessly working away on technologies to make our lives - and maybe even our gardening - more enjoyable!</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/03/a_plantsmans_progress.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/03/a_plantsmans_progress.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Tue, 24 Mar 2009 16:32:55 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Garden timber</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>Another day spent at the new Gardeners' World garden, Greenacre. (Note to self - always take a spare pair of boots, some clean shoes and a spare pair of socks for mud-free travel home!) I love going there because it gives me a real adrenalin rush. The atmosphere is a heady mix of panic - will we finish getting it ready for filming in time? - and the energy that comes from doing something completely new for the programme.  One of my favourite things has been pulling together lots of reclaimed timber for the site - you'll see it on the show in the shape of doors, windows and shelves. The other day I got some 'ware' boards, once used in our vanishing pottery industry to carry plates between the kiln and the potter's wheel. They're made of yellow pine harvested from a cluster of North American pinus species that are native to the south-eastern corner of the United States. Although a softwood, yellow pine is one of the strongest and most durable timbers you can get. It doesn't twist so it's ideal for staircases and shelves in greenhouses and potting sheds. (I made the apple press from it - see blog a few weeks ago.) When you hold the boards in your hand it's amazing to think of all those skilled craftsmen and women handling them. And even more thrilling to think of all the plant-craft they'll be involved in at Greenacre soon...<br />
</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/03/garden_timber.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/03/garden_timber.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Thu, 12 Mar 2009 11:45:59 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Off to pastures new</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>Well the cat's out of the bag and I'm glad because I'm useless at keeping secrets. We're leaving Berryfields and off to pastures new - Birmingham to be precise where the new GW garden 'Greenacre' is fast taking shape, ready for spring and the next series.</p>]]><![CDATA[<p>I'm very excited naturally. Sad to be leaving beautiful Berryfields but the truth is we had run out of space and faced the choice of either carrying on in the same fashion or ripping the heart out of the place. Starting afresh is always energising and in my own garden at home I've always ended up moving once I've felt it was well and truly finished. A clean slate is a challenge, but then so many viewers are faced with precisely the same thing. By the way, the new site is going to have something we lacked at the old garden - slopes! Berryfields was as flat as a pancake. In fact, there are lots of new features designed to reflect the problems we all have - like shade, weeds and neighbours! Or more accurately the drought caused by next door's hedges and tree roots. There are also going to be vegetable beds aplenty, front gardens, a greenhouse, a small-scale woodland garden and an urban meadow. Right now we're in the middle of the build so brick-laying and setting out the paths occupy the day to day. Once that's done the really exciting bit - the planting - can begin. It's a whole new territory for all of us, and I can't wait to share it with you.</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/03/off_to_pastures_new.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/03/off_to_pastures_new.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Fri, 06 Mar 2009 10:37:33 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>The joys of bare soil</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>I'm off to rotavate my allotment after I've written this. The wet weather has delayed me getting on with it and I've been itching to get out there and blitz the beds ready for sowing. There's nothing like clearing the wreckage of winter - the dead leaves, spent chard and sprawling chickweed that colonises where winter cabbage once grew and piling in fresh compost. The 'before-and-after' of the beds is the most dramatic garden makeover going.</p>]]><![CDATA[<p>Assuming I can get the big yellow beast to wake from hibernation, my second-hand rotavator should have the job done by lunch. This is by no-means a certainty as it's about as reliable as a wet paper bag. Last time it wouldn't start. I tried everything from changing the oil to replacing the fuel to finally beating it Basil Fawlty-style with a stick. Eventually, I had to wheel it away to a garage for the clogged carburettor to get treated. It came back and the exhaust fell off, then the starter rope snapped and just when I thought nothing else could go wrong the handle bars broke in two.  It cost me more to fix in one season than it did to buy! All in all a very expensive bargain.<br />
Then I'm back in the garden to lament the damage that the weather has done. I've read that a third of all tender plants in the southwest have been killed by the cold and my garden is no exception. So like everyone who gambled on winters getting warmer I've the unhappy task of going around the beds scraping away at the frost-blackened stems looking for signs of life - if I see green sap there's a hope of recovery if not I'll have to hoik out the plant and fork in compost for something else. <br />
Funny thing that. Bare soil in the borders is a disappointment but at the allotment it fills me with hope.<br />
</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/the_joys_of_bare_soil.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/the_joys_of_bare_soil.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Wed, 25 Feb 2009 15:01:34 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Winter survivors</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>As much as I love the seasons - it's the change between them that really thrills. Standing in the garden it's as if everything is washed with a new light.</p>]]><![CDATA[<p>The disappearance of the snow aside, there are no dramatic changes - the beds aren't awash with blooms (unfortunately!) but the plants within them are noticeably swelling - as if drawing breath before the rush of spring. <br />
I'm particularly pleased to see the green shoots of marjoram poking up amongst the twigs of last years' growth. Mortared-and-pestled into a paste with olive oil, smoked paprika and garlic it's my favourite flavouring for roast chicken (rubbed over and pushed under the skin before cooking) it has a savoury tang second to none. The fleshy green leaves of foxglove are a picture of vitality and there are zesty green flower-buds forming on the euphorbias. Even the trees are making an effort. The swelling buds on the branches have given them a new hue - just like the trees along the roadside my birch is positively purple and my beech tree has a rosy glow.<br />
The garden is full of mini-miracles. Yes, there have been casualties of the cold but amongst them, the survivors have that glad-to-be-alive look that makes me feel - well glad to be alive too. One of the most spectacular is my Melianthus major. Planted with its back against a warmth-trapping wall it's grown to eight feet producing the most amazing flowers. They form in spikes -the glossy garnet colour of a Thai red curry. Then as they go to seed they're replaced by spherical green pods in Granny Smith green. Stunning! And best of all amongst the beaten and battered foliage I've just spotted this year's buds still as tight as clenched fists but there all the same. I shouldn't get too excited as the thing to do would be to chop all the beaten tops including the flower buds down leaving just the new growth at the base (this keeps the whole plant tidy). But the flowers are so good I'll leave a few of the taller spikes and hope new leaves will break from the woody stems. Fingers crossed!<br />
</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/winter_survivors_2.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/winter_survivors_2.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Thu, 19 Feb 2009 16:14:00 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Bavarian Brushstrokes</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>Enough is enough. After weeks of itching to give the garden a good tidy I've finally made a start. </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>This year the muddy job of landscaping my lowest terrace and the proper winter-weather, have wreaked havoc on the place and there's scarcely a corner that doesn't have a pile of building materials or frost-blackened leaves. In our house I'm second-to-last when it comes to tidiness (just above my nine-year-old son but below Emma who's two) so for me to feel hemmed in by the mess things must be pretty bad. </p>
<p>I've always liked sweeping - the rhythm and swish of the bristles as they bring stone and cold concrete back to their best. In a previous job gardening in a Bavarian hotel, I used to give the 100m drive a weekly sweep. Herr Diegal my German boss was a stickler for tidiness and insisted the drive was brushed the 'Bavarian way'. This meant starting at one end and picking up the leaves etc. as I went along, the idea being that there are no dusty circles left behind; tell-tales of second-rate 'British brushing' when leaves and soil are pushed into piles and then collected. As much as it annoyed me at the time, I've been 'Bavarian brusher' ever since.</p>
<p>After the brushing I swept through the borders raking up leaves stripping the dead foliage from all the hardy plants - a most satisfying job. Winter tidying is like un-wrapping the garden revealing its real shape and getting it spruced up for spring. Although tempting I resisted taking all the dead foliage from tender types - such as the summer flowering echiums, as even dishevelled leaves offer frost protection for the buds. And looking at the weather forecast, boy they'll need it!</p>
 ]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/bavarian_brushstrokes.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/bavarian_brushstrokes.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Wed, 04 Feb 2009 12:02:00 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>The scent of winter</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>Outside my garden-office I've got a winter-flowering honeysuckle and, right now, I wouldn't swap it for the world. Although for most of the year I ignore it - it's an ugly duckling with rough leaves and wiry mud-brown stems; but when everything else in the garden is at its winter-worst, dozens of swan-white flowers adorn the branches. </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>It's not the look that I like (although that's pretty good!), it's the zingy-citrus scent that cuts through the cold air. Some plants have an amazing ability to conjure memories of places and times past and for me this is one of them. One sniff and I'm instantly transported back in time - I can feel the cold air on my face, frosty soil beneath my boots and the laughter of friends in my ears. On a Monday morning sat in front of a computer screen it's up there with strong coffee for clearing the post weekend-low from my head.<br />The amazing thing about re-living a scent from the past is how it ties into other forgotten fragrances and memories. The first time I smelt <em>Lonicera</em> x <em>purpusii</em> 'Winter Beauty' as this honeysuckle is known, was as an apprentice nurseryman unloading a plant-packed lorry. As the tailgate rattled open I was hit with a fragrance so strong it was if the truck, fresh off the boat from Holland was carrying contraband perfume. When I went for lunch - which I ate in my battered old Austin A40 - I cut a sprig to mask the smell of the carpets which thanks to leaky windows and a previous owner's pet, smelt of mould and wet Labrador. Just thinking about it makes me smile...</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/the_scent_of_winter.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/02/the_scent_of_winter.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Tue, 03 Feb 2009 12:22:33 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Thinking of new shoots</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>I'm feeling quite peckish this morning - I always do after going through seed catalogues to make up my order. This year I've had the pleasure of picking seed for both my allotment and the G-World kitchen garden so my taste-buds are doubly tickled. </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>Ordering seeds is an exciting business and depending on the time of year, it makes me crave for different flavours. In summer I'm drawn to herbs with a zing like mints and coriander, while during late autumn and early winter it's the hot and hearty chillies and pumpkins that catch my eye. <br />Now, as I look out on this grey and grim morning trying to convince myself that the first shoots of spring are coming, it's crisp and crunchy salad that I'm after. The crops from my allotment are long gone (and after the gales on the weekend so is their fleece covering!) and all I've got left is a row of chard. Chard is as rufty-tufty as a night-club bouncer and as colourful as a flamenco dancer, so it's good to have as a winter mainstay but it's not as tasty as more tender-to-eat winter density lettuce and rocket, so I've made a start on a new salad bed in the greenhouse. Beneath its shelter I should have plenty of pickings by late March and, fingers crossed, a sandwich-filling or two before then. <br />It's early to sow I know but by swaddling the seedlings beneath a sheet of fleece I reckon I can coax them to germinate. Okay, they'll probably be a little leggy - early sowings always are as the seedlings stretch to catch the watery winter sunshine. With other vegetables that's bad but with soon-to-be-snipped salads it hardly matters. And hey, just like the sparkling stalks of cress, the stems of lettuce taste pretty good too. </p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/01/thinking_of_new_shoots.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/01/thinking_of_new_shoots.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 10:59:23 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Cold comfort</title>
	<description>I haven&apos;t ached this much since I last got the rotavator out of the shed. No actually I don&apos;t think I&apos;ve ever ached this much. Yesterday I had the honour of starting a 10 mile off-road running race in aid of a local children&apos;s hospice and foolishly talked myself into taking part. I thought I&apos;d put in plenty of training as scarcely a week goes by without me making a dash for a train but how wrong I was.<![CDATA[I might be paying the price for it now but it wasn't all bad. The views from the top of the hill were great and the weather was crisp and fresh - not the mud-making drizzle of today, so I was glad to be out enjoying it. <br />The recent cold weather has been both good and bad for the garden. On the plus side, the colony of sap-sucking whitefly that called my melianthus home have given up the ghost. So have their cousins which plume about the brassicas on my allotment.&nbsp; Dibbers crossed the vine weevils and root-chewing chafer grubs will have taken a beating too.&nbsp; <br />On the downside my tender plants have suffered although it isn't just the cold that kills them. In my West Country garden it's the stop-start of growth caused when warm, wet weather comes on the heels of a frost, followed again by another chilly snap. This deadly combination first strips the foliage, robbing the buds of the leafy blanket that protects them, then the exposed buds put on a little growth during a mild spell only to be turned to mush by another frost. I'm particularly worried about my blue-flowered Echium candicans in this damp weather. It's a tender shrub from Madeira which had done well here up till now, making a majestic four foot mound of silver leaves. Now it's looking particularly ropey. That makes two of us then.]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/01/cold_comfort.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/01/cold_comfort.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Tue, 13 Jan 2009 10:52:22 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>How to make an apple press</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>Back by popular demand (well for steviecox and chestercomposter anyway!) here's a more detailed sketch of how to make the apple press. Good luck and let me know how you get on.</p>]]><![CDATA[<p>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline"><img class="mt-image-none" height="300" alt="Toby_ApplePressPlan.jpg" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/Toby_ApplePressPlan.jpg" width="300" /></span>The press measures 2½ feet tall by 2ft wide - dimensions that fit an old wood tray I customised to collect the juice. The timber I used is yellow pine bought as offcuts in 3x3inch and 3x4 lengths. This was chosen for its strength as originally I was pressing the apples without freezing them first. If you freeze your apples ordinary pine is fine and you can even forget the joints made in steps 1-3 (although they make for a much better job). </p>
<p>1. Measure and cut the uprights and cross members to length, lay on a flat surface to mark where the timbers cross. <br />2. To make simple joints use a saw to make a series of cuts halfway through each timber where they cross. <br />3. Then use a mallet and chisel to remove the wood between the saw cuts.&nbsp; <br />4. Place the wood in position then drill holes through the timbers where they cross, take apart then paint on some wood glue and then put back together, fixing in place with a washered bolt. <br />5. Once the frame is made, bolt on two horizontal legs either side for stability. <br />6. Saw two rectangles of timber to sit inside the frame for the apples to sit between - anything above a couple of inches thick is ideal but if you can't get any, use marine ply stacked up to an inch thick. <br />7. Paint the lot with a clear varnish.</p>
<p>To use: put a tray between the legs of the press and place a chunky timber on the inside of the frame. Wrap up a few frozen apples in a tea towel and place on the chunky timber and put the other timber on top. Brace the car jack between the top of the frame and the chunky timber (you might need a few pieces of timber to pack out between the jack and frame) and wind up to squash the juice from the apples.</p>
<p>Here's to a happy and fruitful New Year!</p>
]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/01/how_to_make_an_apple_press.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2009/01/how_to_make_an_apple_press.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Thu, 08 Jan 2009 17:37:44 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>The perfect gift... </title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline">I've just plucked a frozen tub of home-pressed apple juice from the freezer to defrost for Christmas. I made it back on a blustery October day with the handmade press I used on Friday's show. Compared to the cast steel and beautifully crafted versions you can buy, I'd be the first to admit that mine is an ugly duckling. But simply based around an ordinary car jack it does a great job of squashing down the fruit to liberate the amber nectar juice. &nbsp;</span></p>]]><![CDATA[<p>
<p>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline"><img class="mt-image-left" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 20px 20px 0px" height="300" alt="applepress_22122008.jpg" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/23/applepress_22122008.jpg" width="300" /></span>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline">This picture of yours-truly pressing apples shows how it's made</span>. There's a rectangle of timber (a tenner's worth of strong North American yellow pine) 60cm tall by 50cm wide, glued and bolted together at the corners, then screwed to two further pieces of timber laid horizontally as the base. The timber wasn't expensive as it came from my local timber merchant's collection of off-cuts, nor was it time-consuming to make - sawing to length, chiselling, sanding, bolting and finally varnishing took just a few hours. The car jack was borrowed from the back of my car and the chunky timber blocks used to brace the jack were offcuts too, while the tray which catches the juice was harvested from a pile at the back of a second-hand shop. </p>
<p>Before apples will yield their juice you have to pulp the flesh. In the past I've put them through the garden shredder - an enjoyable if noisy job which does leave rather a lot of sticky juice residue on the patio. So this year I've converted to the new method of freezing the fruit. Freezing ruptures the cell walls inside the fruit and make pressing so much easier. It also has the advantage of taking the pressure off if you're busy when the apples fall as they store for months in the freezer.</p>
<p>Frozen apples are as hard as billiard balls but place them in a bucket of water and they thaw within minutes and are ready to be wrapped in a tea-towel and juiced. Five or six apples will give over a half litre of juice and - as well as drinking some there and then - I always keep a few litres in the freezer (plastic milk cartons are perfect for this) for special occasions. So if you've an apple tree that produces more fruit than you can eat or you simply never get round to eating all the apples in your fruit bowl a homemade press is a must and a perfect project for working off the Christmas pudding during the hols.</p>
<p>Have a very Merry Christmas!</p>
<p>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline">&nbsp;</span>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline">&nbsp;</span>
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image" style="DISPLAY: inline">&nbsp;</span></p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/the_perfect_gift.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/the_perfect_gift.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Mon, 22 Dec 2008 16:55:01 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Gourmet dining for wildlife</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>After a couple of weeks of waiting, the birds have finally found the feeders I put up the other week. </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>Being cautious creatures, birds take what seems like an age to feel safe around a new and abundant source of food. I guess the old adage 'if it looks too good to be true... it probably is' applies to our feathered friends as much as it does to us. So getting the birds to feel comfortable enough to feed close to the house sometimes requires a little subterfuge. I gathered a few seed-heads from teasel, stipa and fennel and stuffed their long stems in a soil-filled bucket below the feeders, hoping they'd spot the haute cuisine above. And so while watching the football highlights last Sunday morning, I thought I must have dozed off and Arsenal had scored (!) when I was startled by the children's whoops of joy. A robin and a long-tailed tit were pecking away at the peanuts. Result!</p>]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/gourmet_dining_for_wildlife.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/gourmet_dining_for_wildlife.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Mon, 15 Dec 2008 17:18:02 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Garden riddles</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p><br />A strange thing happened to me as I was getting on a train the other day. A lady I'd never met before called out to me "You should wear gloves when you're handling worms!" The door shut before she could elucidate further but I can only suppose her warning was in response to GW screened on Halloween and my scooping these slimy invertebrates - glove-free - into my new wormery. I can only think she's worried they might bite (they can't) or do me some damage (they don't). Or perhaps, she's worried it would hurt them (it won't) - who knows it's a mystery... </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>The riddle of the worms (as it's now known in our house) isn't the only enigma that occurred in October. 'Charitysid' left a message on my blog to say that for a reason unknown, his pelargonium cuttings rotted. He'd had 95% success in other years and despite doing everything right - putting them in an open propagator (the best place as they don't like humidity) they still failed. </p>
<p>The most common cause of pelargoniums dying off is 'unclean' cuts when trimming them to length. Any tears or extra pieces of pith below the compost are a foot-hold for rots that multiply killing the cutting and spreading to others. But as Charitysid has had success in the past I'd say it's more likely that his troubles sprang from the cutting material. The wet summer caused very soft quick-to-rot growth when ordinarily late-summer tip cuttings are sun-ripened and firm. It could also come down to the compost - never use up old bags that have been sitting damp beneath the greenhouse bench for propagation as sterility is key. Also, down there on the floor malicious, grudge-bearing worms could get in the bags and then run amok inside your pots. Maybe that's what the lady was trying to tell me! Charitysid, tell me... have you been handling worms without wearing gloves.</p>
]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/garden_riddles.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/garden_riddles.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Tue, 09 Dec 2008 12:32:31 +0000</pubDate>
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<item>
	<title>Frosty gifts</title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p>Turning the calendar to reveal a picture of a snowy landscape and waking up to a hard frost has got me thinking of Christmas. I love being outdoors even when it's bitterly cold but I appreciate it's not for everyone. That's why this Christmas I'm going to give presents that will allow my frost tender friends and family to enjoy their gardens from the centrally heated comfort of their kitchens... bird feeders. </p>]]><![CDATA[<p>Believe me they're the ideal gift for difficult-to-buy-for aunts and uncles and even make alternative non-plastic stocking-filler for the kids. I paid £1.20 each for three fat-filled half coconut husks on the weekend (gardeners with even shallower pockets can make them for less) and me and my boys had great fun clambering up the trees in the garden to string them up - plus the excitement of watching blue and great tits swinging about beneath them like acrobats. I'm currently laying a reclaimed timber deck (that's another story) but couldn't help notice the number of birds - the usual suspects, robins, blackbirds but also long-tailed tits, wagtails and yellow hammers. The cold weather has prompted them to feed far and wide, so I thought that a bird feeder or two would make their visits to this back garden worth their while. </p>
<p>I haven't only bought coconut bird feeders for presents - hopping between branches is too much for some of my aunts and uncles so I've also splashed out on wire mesh tubes that are filled with peanuts. Hooked on a hanging basket bracket or stuck onto a bamboo cane in a border they'll become the lunch-spot of choice for a wealth of feathered visitors and let's face it, they're far more engaging than scented soap or socks. </p>
]]></description>
         <dc:creator>Toby Buckland </dc:creator>
	<link>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/frosty_gifts.html</link>
	<guid>http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/gardenersworld/tobybuckland/2008/12/frosty_gifts.html</guid>
	<category></category>
	<pubDate>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 15:03:01 +0000</pubDate>
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