Dear patrons, this is the month the garden turns. Somewhere in the next three weeks the first proper frost will come down the valley, and by the morning after it the dahlias will be black. Don't mourn them. That frost is the signal I wait for all year: the tops are finished, and the tubers have had every last week of growing they were going to get.
Before it comes, there is a fortnight of good work: garlic in, broad beans sown, sweet peas potted up in the cold frame. After it, the lifting and the tidying. The jobs page has all eight, split into the two halves of the month.
Lifting the dahlias
Wait two or three days after the frost, then lift on a dry morning. Cut the stems to a hand's width and push the fork in well away from the crown: the tubers spread further than you think, and a fork through the neck of a tuber is the commonest way to lose one.
Shake off what soil you can and stand them upside down in the shed for a week, so the water drains out of the hollow stems. That is where the rot starts. Then box them in dry compost or old potting mix, labels on, somewhere cold but frost-free. I use the space under the potting bench, with a sack over the boxes on the coldest nights.
On clay I lift every one. On a light, free-draining soil you can leave them in with a thick mulch of bark or straw over the crowns, and in a mild winter most will come back. On ours they sit in water from November to March and rot by Christmas.
Garlic, while the soil is warm
Garlic wants a cold spell to split into cloves, so it goes in now, not in spring. Germidour or Solent Wight, pointed end up, 15 cm apart and 2 cm under. On heavy soil I plant into a raised bed, or set each clove on a pinch of grit, so the base never sits wet. Forty cloves fills one of my beds and keeps the kitchen in garlic until May.
What I got wrong
I cut the beech hedge in the last week of August, the moment the birds had finished nesting. It was too early. It put on a flush of soft growth in the warm September, and the first cold nights have browned every tip, so it looks singed all along the lane. Next year: the second week of September, and not a day before.
I also left the sweet pea seed packets in the greenhouse, where it is warm and damp, and half of them have sprouted in the packet. Seed goes in a tin in the cool larder from now on.
From your questions
A patron asks
My rhubarb leaves have gone yellow. Is the plant dying?
Not at all. It is shutting down for winter. Pull the old leaves off, give the crown a barrow of muck, and leave it alone until March.
Another patron asks
Can I still plant tulips in November?
Yes, and it is better: the cold soil keeps tulip fire away. Plant them three times their own depth.
A patron asks
When do I cut back the raspberries?
Autumn-fruiting ones in February, right to the ground. Summer ones now: only the canes that fruited this year.
A patron asks
Is it worth covering the soil over winter?
On clay, yes. A sheet of cardboard and a layer of leaves, and you can plant straight into it in April.
A patron asks
My leeks have orange spots. Are they safe to eat?
That is rust. Peel the outer leaves and eat them; next year give them more room so the air moves.
A patron asks
Can I move a peony?
Now is the time, in one big root ball, no deeper than it was. Expect a year without flowers.
With love from the potting bench,
Elspeth