This bed is partly shaded by a six-year old medlar, which was one of the first trees I planted in this little garden. Now eight feet high, it blossoms profusely and in autumn is covered in golden brown fruit which each winter I turn into a single jar of garnet-coloured jelly.

Winter 2008. We had an extraodinarily early, and breathtakingly beautiful snowfall this year. The first October snow for thirty years. The cold snap finished the wine-red Black Monach dahlias that share this bed with the vegetables. I just sat there, before everyone was up, clutching my coffee, watching the foxes leave the paw prints in the snow. Perhaps the most beautiful sight of all was the soft green of the cabbage leaves frosted at the edges.

Brassicas have followed the potatoes. Brussels sprouts which are unhappy; Kale, which is doing well and is almost ready to pick, January King cabbages have a lot of catching up to do if they are to be ready for after Christmas. I got them in rather later than I had hoped, and they are less than happy. I didn't grow them from seed this year, using small farm-grown plants instead and whose quality I was disappointed with. We will see if they survive the constant visits from the fox, who jumps on them early in the morning and snaps their brittle stems.

Autumn 2008. What a success the potatoes were. Golden Wonder produced beautiful tubers the size of goose eggs, their skin a deep honey gold. Not a patch of disease anywhere, just a few scars where I was careless with the garden fork. Pink Fir apple, despite my doubts, faired well, and their small size made them particularly charming in a salad with walnut oil, lemon and chopped dill. I had never seen them freshly dug before, so was surprised by their rose pink skin, more subtle than those I have bought from the shops. Salad blue was worth growing, if only for the striking violet colour. It fades when you cook them to a delicate bluey-grey. From a flavor point of view they were unexciting, but they had already proved their worth by the delight they aroused just digging them up. Arran Victory was just as good as a mashing potato as I had hoped. I can't pretend I grew them by the book. Yes, I mounded a little soil around the stems to stop the potatoes greening, but other than that I did little to them at all. Beginners luck? I don't know. Its my second year with potatoes and very good they have been again. Maybe they just like my rich, rather wet soil. maybe they are comfortable with a little neglect. 
 
Summer 2008. All five varieties of potato are currently about a metre high. The flowers, in shades of violet, pink, mauve and white are currently at their peak and enchanting with their sugared almond colours. What treasure is waiting under the soil waits to be seen. I am most excited about the Salad Blue and Pink Fir Apple, partly because I have been led to believe they are difficult to grow. Potatoes can be deceiving, so despite their outwardly healthy appearance I am expecting nothing. The soil in this bed is exceptionally moist and the area heavily shaded, so it will be interesting to see how they fare. My worry is the shade from the medlar tree that so desperately needs pruning might not meet with their approval.

Spring 2008. The medlar tree now covers half of this bed with its winding branches providing gentle shade and keeping the ground cool and moist. It is too shady for sweet peas now, so in early April I planted five varieties of potato here: Kestrel, Salad Blue, Pink Fir Apple, Golden Wonder and Arran Victory. They pushed their way through the soil during the second week of May, Kestrel first, followed by the beautiful violet black leaves of Salad Blue. By the third week of May were  a good foot high and in apparently fine fettle. I am protecting the juicy young shoots with copper rings.
  
Winter 2007/8. The bed is currently resting, the ground cleared of dried sweet pea sticks and dead dahlia stems. The sweet peas - Cupani, Black Knight did well and I will grow more this year. A solitary raspberry cane re-appeared as a reminder that until last year this bed was kept for autumn flowering raspberry canes. I left it be, and I will continue to, in the hope it might offer the occasional fruit late in the year. Because of the blight, I will have to find somewhere else for the tomatoes this year, to give the soil a chance to recover.

Autumn 2007. One of the pleasures of this bit of the garden is walking round at night, the snow-white flowers of the borage twinkling like stars in the moonlight. I look forward to its return each year - it seeds all over the place -  for that pleasure alone.