Post-winter allotment harvest and first cider!

OH has bought some shelving and has left the cardboard leaning against the radiator in our hallway. We now always try to find some use for such things – if it can be composted, we will compost it. But there has been a blanket of snow and ice for the past few weeks so we can't take it to the allotment. Our cat has been using the warm air pocket as a place to sleep.

This weekend, I am getting tired of it and want it gone. The snow has melted and the day is quite mild. I pack secateurs and OH takes the cardboard, and off we go to the allotment.

The allotment is quite busy. Two old boys are making hedge conversation as we pass and throw the odd friendly remark in our direction. I can never think of what to say or do: shall I stop by and talk? Throw back something non-committal (“Soil still dry underneath, where's all that snow gone?”) and carry on walking? OH, who has grown up in this country, always hits the perfect note – briskly walking by, he breezily says something knowledgeable, allotment-related and witty, and I just smile inanely and wave with the secateurs, grunting something vaguely local such as “Ohroight?”

When we turn the corner into our lottie, we're in for a shock. When I was last there, the kale stood in full green regalia. Now it's two beds of wispy stalks. Something's been at it. “Pigeons”, OH states, “or muntjac.” We've spotted deer prints in the mud before and we're not fenced off from the path. But our neighbour, who has fenced himself in, is in a similar position: lacy cabbages. So it probably was the pigeons, trying to find edible things in the snow. One more thing learnt: either harvest the kale before the snow or sacrifice it to wildlife.

The good news is that all the parsley has survived the frost and is still green, as are the fresh coriander and dill. Even the accidental salad seedlings near the old lettuce bed haven't gone over – I'm very impressed! They look a bit purple on the edges, so probably some frost damage, but they're still green, still growing. I haven't done anything to protect them so that's evidently some resilient variety.

OH is reasonably impressed with the clean-up job I did a couple of weeks earlier. He gets to work on digging over his potato patch. I prune the raspberries; my back protests loudly but I also like the gentle ache from my thighs. By the time I'm done, I'll have buns of steel.

I rip out all of the broccoli stalks – these are well and truly exhausted now, and what might have still been edible has fallen prey to the pigeons. Some of the runtier red cabbages are also coming out. However, the kales seem to show a lot of sidesprouts – is that a cut and come again variety? I decide to cover them up and see whether they do anything – but not just yet, because I've got the fleece but nothing to tie it to. Another job for “the list”.

Two ex-cabbage beds get covered up with the cardboard and some soil from the potato bed. As I transfer the soil across, I dig up a few more potatoes. More for tonight's dinner then!

The lottie harvest from that day consists of 3 red cabbages, 3 parsnips (still more in the ground). One of the harvested parsnips is truly massive, almost celeriac-sized), about 5 carrots, worm-eaten unfortunately, 2 Bavarian purple radi, 5 leeks, a Tesco-size bag full of kale, one massive jacket potato.

That evening, we're having our usual lottie dish: grated root fritters (parsnip, potato, carrot) with chopped leek and parsley from the freezer plus creamed radish (radi grated into crème fraiche). I get pleasantly tired on our home-brewed cider, which tastes better with each passing week. Then I fall asleep on the sofa at about 11pm and don't wake up until morning.