Good things come to those who wait.

Last year we planted a rhubarb plant and let it grow unmolested, because rhubarb needs a year to get itself established properly before you can pluck its shocking pink feathers if you want it to survive and grow well (and taste good). So the lollipop-coloured stems that had been getting larger and larger in a corner of our garden last year have been calling to me recently - and on a perfect sunny day out they popped with a little twist and came inside to put some sunshine in my baking.

Because I didn't want to strip the whole plant I only picked a couple of stalks so I could sample this lovely rhubarb and custard cake recipe. What's not to love about cake that sounds like your childhood? That's what comfort food should be about - the best of memories.

There's something so satisfying about baking or cooking with food from your own garden - like the world has you in its palm and not only provides what you need but makes it delicious and wonderfully beautiful to look at. Like there's an endless circle of love and giving in the world that it takes a return to the basics to remember.

In hindsight I should have used a deeper cake tin for this (I didn't have one quite the right size), but it tasted great none the less. Sweet sugar warmed in the sun - and the chance to bake a rich jewel pink with no artificial colours!

With the sun out, this little harvest felt like a blessing. Such an abundant time.

And if that wasn't enough, the rhubarb often serves as an umbrella / hiding hole for my cat. What a wonderful plant.

They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds.

This weekend's allotment jobs were to pin down the plastic covering at the front of the allotment where the ground has been emptied of weeds and roots, dug over and raked flat, cover over the potatoes that have come up, and to hoe the beds where we have planted to remove the weeds that have popped up or grown back from roots that we missed. I've also started making a concerted effort to tidy the plot of rubbish that we don't need - spare tyres with the hubcaps still in, odd bits of glass, small sections of wire netting. It's amazing how much more like an allotment it looks for having done this!

It also means that now I can see more clearly what we've done and what still needs doing - now that the main beds have been dug over the next jobs on the list are to tackle the path down the middle and make sure that is properly covered, as well as a stretch across the front that hasn't been dug over, and to get rid of some nettles that have popped up again round the edges. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to all this digging but at least it's jobs I can number now rather than the whole overwhelming lot.

The other thing I did this weekend was lay some of the corrugated iron that is lying around at the back of the allotment upright there in an attempt to stop rabbits getting in, and plant out four courgettes which shot up in my plastic greenhouse at home.

I have to say that it is a joy to see broad beans, courgettes, onions and potatoes growing on the plot and reminds me what it is all for. I'm aching from six hours digging and carrying but feeling pleased that my plot is actually starting to look better.

There's something so invigorating and affirming about seeing tiny new green shoots grow out of mud where weeds had taken over. Like the beginning of all hope, like nature is always willing to lend a helping hand. Like anything is possible.

Broad beans and courgettes poking their heads out to see the sun.

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Digging for victory

This weekend's task at the allotment was to finish digging over and raking the final bed. We spent some very long, frozen and wet days at the end of last year digging out as many weeds and roots as we could from these beds, before covering them with plastic sheeting for the winter and leaving them.

Happily, except for one particular section the beds had remained relatively weed-free. Digging and then raking this very large bed was rather exhausting but I finished it! I also hoed between the beds at the back of the allotment where we have potatoes, onions, carrots, broad beans, strawberries and garlic planted. There's signs of life in the onions, some of the potatoes and the broad beans, but also signs of a rabbit snacking on our spoils! I raised the netting a little higher to try to fend them off but I think this might be a constant battle until we can get proper fencing and netting up...

I'm so pleased to know that our beds are at least mostly flat now. There's some serious work to do at the back and on our path, but when I think of the 6-foot high weeds we were faced with when we started I feel proud of what we've done.

This must be seriously good exercise too because I'm aching and starving after these mornings of digging, and happily demolish the giant chocolate patisserie my husband brings home!

The last bed, as flat as I can get it for now! This is one half of our allotment.

This little guy watched my progress all morning...

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Cheaters' sourdough

One of the things I love about my job is that my boss lets me work from home a day or two a week if I need to. Apart from allowing me to plough through a lot of work, it also means that I can get things done around the house in the time I save not commuting to work. Winner.

Friday's homely urge was to bake a lovely sturdy loaf that could easily beat one of those lightweight supermarket offerings in a fight and would allow for a Bank Holiday Monday breakfast to be cooked with local farm shop bacon, eggs from our garden and bread that could stand up to it all. I wanted a sourdough, a sturdy wholesome bread with no rubbish in because I'd made it myself.

The problem with that is I don't have an airing cupboard so keeping a starter warm at 30 degrees isn't really possible for me. But then the joy of Google happened, and I found a recipe for simple sourdough. No starter needed, just yeast and yogurt which I had in the fridge. Culinary fate.

I nearly gave up on the dough which was so sloppy. I also don't have a Dutch oven, but urges being the mother of invention, I improvised with a heavy pan that I do have. The dough and I worked together, until on Friday night into the oven she went and out she popped later, golden, a bit flat, but looking like all the best homely dreams I could dream up. And she did her job - lovely bubbles of air inside, firm, thick crisp crust. This is one you have to plaster the butter on. She can take it.

I don't know why but I love that this is a bread you have to cook in a pot with a lid. Like a little lifeforce. A bread egg.

How to instantly make your house feel like a farmhouse, even when it's not. Sigh.

Spring clean for the chickens

Friday's task was to clean and disinfect the chicken coop and feeders, and to apply mite powder to the girls and their home. This is easier said than done because the huge grey one, whilst being totally in charge, is terrified of coming near people despite my best efforts. Eventually success was had and the girls were happy.

I put garlic in their water for their immune system and left them digging about in new straw, smelling sweetly. They are as ready for spring as we are now.

I love to see them happy and healthy from our kitchen while I'm cooking!