big sorry to my broadies

Saying a Big Sorry to My Broadies for Any Distress Caused

I have a habit of not taking the weather forecast very seriously. I live in a little pocket of the country where more often than not, we miss the bad weather. This peninsula is sheltered, dry, and generally warmer than most other areas.

Therefore, I regularly take the forecasts with a pinch of salt, and sometimes I don’t even watch them.

Occasionally, this has cost me, like the time I planted out seedlings the day before 30 miles an hour winds. The unfortunate things didn’t stand a chance on an open area such as my previous allotment site.

Another Planting Out Cock Up
I have made this cock up again, but this time it is with my broad beans, and as well as wind, we’ve got snow too. To make matters worse, I covered the broadies with fleece overnight, which collected snow, gained significant weight, and flattened the plants. I forgot to shake the snow off the next morning. Oops.

Oh, and just to increase their suffering, the ground is still very heavy, but I still ploughed on with planting.

Over Enthusiasm
I’m putting my premature planting down to over-enthusiasm. With a new growing space, I am doubly excited for this year, which is why the rubbish weather is genuinely making me grumpy and at times, rather annoying to live with.

‘Shall I sow some parsnips, Ailsa? I could do, couldn’t I? No. No, perhaps I won’t. Unless I do them inside. Do you think they’ll be okay? Do you? Ailsa? Ailsa?’

Ailsa doesn’t care, and understandably so. We have a six-week-old child that requires attention. Parsnips aren’t really on her radar, however many times I ask.

Broadie Survival
In theory, the broadies should be okay. People overwinter these hardy plants, after all. I grew mine on a windowsill, before moving to the unheated greenhouse and hardening off for the last 10 days or so. They weren’t flattened for very long, and I’ve helped them stand up by pushing the soil tighter around the base.

Even so, I have found myself feeling sorry for the plants, and the unnecessary suffering of my broadies is causing me much eyebrow furrowing and pacing around.

‘Are you thinking about those broad beans again?’ Ailsa asks as I stand forlornly by the patio doors.

Yes. A lot. The poor things. If only I had curbed that enthusiasm.

Sorry broadies, I really am. Good luck out there. I’ll watch the weather forecast next time, promise.

5 thoughts on “Saying a Big Sorry to My Broadies for Any Distress Caused”

  1. I’m encountering a similar problem in a different setting – I’ve got a little over enthusiastic with seed sowing indoors, and now my windowsills are covered with no exit in sight…

    Bloody British weather

  2. Haha, brilliant. I can well understand that problem. I’ve got one full sill in the spare room. Had people to stay the other day and needed to politely ask them to watch out when they pulled the curtains.

  3. lifeatthevillas

    I was rather smug that I’d got my Autumn sown broadies planted out back in February – fresh, green and upright in their neat row… I reckon they would have survived the weather but it was my marauding chickens that wrecked them! Back to square one…

    1. No! I remember pictures of those plants on your blog, they looked great!

      On the bright side, at least it wasn’t pigeons or something. Is that a bright side??

  4. You know a few weeks ago I was pondering whether to do a spring sowing of broadbeans. I did a November one and the intention was to do a spring sowing of the same variety. On this occasion I’m glad I was lazy as I’m quite concerned as to how the winter sown broadies are doing out there.

    I’ve never tried sowing them indoors, hardening off and planting out – just always direct sown. I like the simplicity of direct sowing but it can be a fair old waiting game if the weather’s not onside.

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