What I’ve learnt about growing a self-sufficient garden – and keeping pests at bay

The romanticised self-sufficiency depicted in The Good Life is rather different from the “fermes ornées” or ornamental farms created in the 18th century. My garden is something between the two extremes. It feeds us (but not entirely) and has a handful of chickens, sheep, pigs and cows, as well as flowers, trees and meadows for me to garden and enjoy.

I was extremely impressed when listening recently to Max Cotton’s Radio 4 series Growing Solo, who spent 12 months living off his 1.5-hectares in Somerset, buying in nothing to eat but salt. Cotton, a former BBC political journalist, not a gardener, took self-sufficiency to the extreme and survived to tell the tale. In case I have been missing a trick, I checked with him which foods he thinks are a cinch to grow. He knew he would need to grow the equivalent of one million calories to feed himself for the year, but actually aimed for closer to six million calories so that he could also feed his family and allow for any disasters.

The disasters are common to all gardeners. Cotton’s first one was the badgers that mullered his wheat patch. The badger is a very common problem that is often put to us panellists on Gardeners’ Question Time. Badgers invaded my garden some 20-plus years ago, discovering snails behind my woven raised beds and ripping the beds apart. Since then, my low electric fence, just 40cm high, eliminated the problem instantly. Rabbits hate the fence, and it also stopped the foxes invading my chicken pen, though I also have an additional electric wire around their pen at head height to stop any leaping foxes.

I think pest control is a big part of gardening, be it ornamental or productive. A lot of my garden is great for wildlife, but I will not be encouraging the critters to thrive at the expense of my supper. Only this morning I kicked myself that I did not put down organic (ferrous phosphate) slug pellets around my recently planted-out chervil plants – the slugs have scoffed all bar one. Nearly all my crops would be subject to annihilation by either one or all of the following: pigeons, slugs, squirrels, mice and rats, with other pests and diseases such as aphids, leek moths, onion fly and potato blight waiting in the wings. So a mix of good-looking or unobtrusive protective covers, pellets and baits are, in my view, essential.

Brassicas are generally thought to be the most difficult to grow. They are in the ground for a long time and get hit by pigeons and aphids mainly. To mitigate this, I have built a large netted enclosure from some old reclaimed metal posts. I wanted to make it less of an eyesore, so I created a marquee-like design, and put finials on the top posts. Jamie Bullett, of JFab, made the curves and welded it all together.

Choosing the netting was not easy: white reflects more light than black, and although I do use a fair amount of white scaffold netting over metal hoops and the like, it is far more obtrusive than the black. I opted for black 7mm x 7mm plastic mesh from Dejex (dejex.co.uk), which will supply direct to the public.

If you are keen on homegrown veg and flowers and have the room, I think a polytunnel is well worth the investment. The added protection extends the seasons, and although they are not easy on the eye, I put mine in at a much lower height than is the norm. I think they are designed for giants, often 2.7m high or more. The supplier kindly reduced the base of the steel hoops, making it 2m high. With the elliptical tunnel profile (as opposed to semi-circular) you can still work at the sides with no problems concerning lack of headroom. This height reduction makes it far less prominent.

My two home-made greenhouses (made from reclaimed old windows sitting on low stone walling), one sunken and one at ground level, have been the best investment ever, costing £2,000 and £1,000 respectively. The sunken one takes far less energy to keep it frost-free: I cage in any tender plants in a polystyrene box in cold periods, and that, along with a small heated propagation mat, is enough.

Most of my plants, veg, flowers and cuttings start life in these greenhouses. These greenhouses and a cold frame are in my small “working area”. A vital and favourite part of my plot is dedicated to propagation, with small beds for growing cuttings on, and an outdoor bench at a good working height, complete with built-in Belfast sink. It is the hub of the garden.

Keeping a tunnel and two greenhouses watered on my scant labour means that capillary matting is indispensable. I have just ordered a new roll from Dejex as my old stuff is pretty threadbare after five years or so. My other outdoor ornamental planted pots (I have 90 or so) are baseless, so no feed or water is required. I would recommend growing in pots in this way, as baseless pots are not only low-maintenance, but they elevate the plants and really “big up” their presence.

I have just taken the base off a large home-propagated standard lilac (using an angle grinder). Lilacs thrive on neglect, but the hole in the base of the pot had become totally blocked and the compost wet and airless. As it stands on a stone sett path, the hammer and bolster were needed to remove these so that I could sit the newly debased pot on the topsoil I put in to replace the setts.

Gardeners often moan about weeding, mowing and hedge cutting, which all kicked off manically in May. All of these elements can become a massive demand on your resources, going on until August or so.

If I get overwhelmed, I’ll ask a local tree surgeon to do the hedge cutting – though it’s good for giving your upper body a workout. As for mowing, my Husqvarna robotic mower gives me endless joy as I watch it swooshing around. To cut down on this task, some small areas that previously required mowing have been replaced with easy-to-maintain planting.

Elsewhere, my autumn-laid grassless perennial meadow from Pictorial Meadows is just bursting into bloom and feeding a good range of insects and bats, while allowing us to feast on its wonderful shot of colour, which really lifts the orchard. It will need weeding of interlopers, and I may well strim it down in a month or so to encourage it to flower later on. I have mown a serpentine path through some long grass; I always like trying out different shapes and mowing patterns where possible. In another part of the garden, I have also developed a grass-free rose meadow, which I am loving.

Animal magic

Max Cotton has his own pork, two weaner pigs (like me), a cow plus calf, and chickens, but unlike me he milks his cow (rather than just eating it) and makes fabulous cheese from her unpasteurised milk. He lets the calf have some milk and takes the rest – the ideal mix for a happy cow, a happy calf and a happy Max Cotton.

I find it fascinating that meat production (whether beef, lamb or pork), providing you have a spare acre or two, is so easy compared to growing plants. As long as the breeds are hardy outdoor types and kept at low densities, then raising and tending them is pretty straightforward. They add a great dimension to the landscape/garden and you get far better produce than anything you can buy.

Of course, not everyone has a spare hectare, but “pig clubs” – where people collectively own and take responsibility for rearing pigs – were thriving in Britain in years gone by; perhaps we should start these again? Sheep are, for me, the easiest, but Cotton does not have these due to his heavy wet soil, which leads to foot rot. But our Soay sheep are self-shedding, very easy to manage and beautiful-looking lawn mowers that don’t need their oil checking.

Growing in the ‘hungry gap’

During the lean months known as the hungry gap, in April and May, Cotton had three large Kilner jars of sprouting seeds on his windowsill. These grew alfalfa, mung beans and the like, and from them he had more greens than he could eat. Traditionally, in the Fenlands, the poorer farmers lived on a diet of kale and pigeon. Trendy in a restaurant – but every day?

I find with the newer ranges of veg varieties available now, such as winter lettuce, kale, spinach, chards, Brussels, carrots and parsnips, that these all survive well in the ground in our warmer winters, especially with a thick duvet of mulch, that the hungry gap has all but gone.

Cotton is hooked on self-sufficiency after his extraordinary year, but moving forward he is making big changes. As his land is wet and heavy, it is best for grass (dairy) and vines (he makes his acclaimed rosé wine, Glastonbury, available from the Somerset Wine Company).

For me, though, I relish the challenge of growing a wide range, and my fab new outdoor thermometer (from worm.co.uk) makes me more weather-savvy. I spend a full day a week in the garden year-round, and Dave, my gardener, spends the same time. On just two work days a week, we manage. Each year has new challenges, but undoubtedly we are upping our game as the years roll on.

Listen to Bunny Guinness’s most recent podcast episode ‘Bunny in the Garden with Guy Singh-Watson’ on YouTube