Hey, look at my stash!

Now of all my Christmas presents, the ones which most fired up my imagination were the series of intriguing little packets which dropped through my door one by one in the week or so leading up to the Big Day.

These are the contents of my Seedy Stocking Stuffers: a wizard wheeze dreamt up by Emma and taken up with enthusiasm by fellow veg-growing addicts Andy, Charlotte, Liz and Ali, as well as myself.

I did find myself rather humbled by the result: I save a little seed, but not that much, and blithely signed up before realising that actually, the contents of my seed packet shoebox weren't quite as inspiring as they ought to be.

I did manage to send out some rather lovely beans I saved: blue ('Kew Blue'), purple ('Cosse Violette') and brown ('Coco')as well as bog-standard green. But mostly, I didn't come anywhere close to the delights I received in the post: so here's a public thank you to all those who have given me the chance to try so many plants I've been wanting to grow for ages, and a sorry for fobbing you off with less interesting fare.

So from my box of treasures, here are the ones I shall most look forward to growing this year:

For my herb garden, I have some orach 'Magenta Magic' from Ali and some red and green perilla from Charlotte: the large French sorrel (also from Charlotte) should cope (and indeed spread like mad) on the shady side of the herb patch and look suitably handsome, too.

My tropical edibles garden has suddenly taken shape in a way it was struggling to do before: I can't wait to get my Achocha 'Fat Baby' in the ground (thanks Ali and Charlotte, again) and - yay!! - at last I have some oca tubers to sow (thank you Emma!) though I have to somehow prevent them rotting off before I get them in the ground. I may just plonk them in a pot in the (heated) greenhouse for now as otherwise I think they'll all be goners. Plus the giant sunflowers are making a comeback: I now have a pack of 'Russian Giant' from Liz. Tape measures at the ready!

And for the veg garden: can't wait to sow the 5ft high climbing pea 'Telephone' - Liz and Ali, and possibly another candidate for the tape measure - and my tomato needs are very nearly taken care of too, what with the plum tomato 'Scatolone' (Liz), good old 'Gardeners' Delight' (Andy) and 'Sweet Pea Currant' (Charlotte): tiny, delicious, and worth growing just for the name.

Of those plants I've never even thought about growing, I shall watch the 'Potimarron' squash (Ali) with fascination as it gallops around my plot; Italian capers (Emma) are a new one on me and I have no idea what to expect; and sea beet (Emma) I'm pretty sure I've picked wild on the seashore in my youth but never actually tried to grow.

Well who would have thought it. It's still only January and I have a list as long as my arm of delicious things to fill my garden. I have a feeling it's going to be a good year!

And now for something completely different

Look what I got my hands on at the weekend!

I've been trying to track down one of these for years. I've put my name on waiting lists, sent hopeful emails to likely friends, even posted messages on message boards, but to no avail.

They say it's when you're not looking for something that - ping! - it shows up, and so it has turned out with my yacon crown, which I found while at the 12th Annual Hampshire Potato Day on Saturday at Whitchurch, near Andover. I've gone on about this at greater length on t'other blog I write for crocus.co.uk, as it was a revelation: I never knew so many potatoes existed in the world.

But potatoes weren't the whole story, and there were some fantastic nurseries in attendance too: Pennard Plants whose collections of heritage vegetable seeds I'd already admired last year at the Wisley Flower Show, and Edulis, possibly my favourite nursery of all time. This is because they specialise in unusual edible plants: I've seen them at many shows and plant fairs before and every time I've found myself in raptures over their plants (and usually laden with carrier bags before I can tear myself away).

My eye was caught by a little tray of bright orangey-pink oca, another vegetable I've been wanting to grow for ages and haven't seen anywhere else. While I was dithering over that, the lady next to me asked what the big yam-like tuber behind them was (being observant, I hadn't actually noticed them despite the fact that they were at least a foot long).

"They're yacon," the man said. At which I suddenly started jabbering away at him in a state of extreme over-excitement, the lady previously mentioned backed away cautiously and my kids (who have previous experience of these outbursts of mine) went off to hide under a nearby table.

The man turned out to be Paul Barney, the lovely and very kind owner of Edulis who clearly knows an obsessive when he sees one. He reached down and produced a big yacon crown he'd been hiding in a plastic bag on the floor. He said it was his last one, but never mind, he cut me off a big chunk anyway (I do like gardeners) and I skipped off with a grin on my face like the cat who got the cream.

Now I've got to figure out what to do with it. Paul said there's enough there to allow me to split it still further if I want to, but as a yacon novice I don't think I'll dare try that until next year. So for now I'm potting it up and keeping it on the dry side in the frost-free greenhouse before starting it into growth at about the same time as my dahlias (which it very closely resembles, only about six times the size). And then... well, let's cross that particular bridge when we get to it. For now, I'm just happy my search is over.

Novelty value

I found out what my mystery honeysuckle is today!

I eventually got around to taking a sample over to Wisley's spectacularly useful Advisory Service a couple of weeks ago. For those who don't know, this service is perhaps the most useful thing you get along with your RHS membership: you get to take any problem, and any unidentified plant along to your nearest RHS garden (or you can send it in) and you have instant access to the country's leading plant experts to identify it for you. I always have the "I'm not worthy" feeling when I go in there - why would they want to be bothered with my humble little garden? - but they're unfailingly friendly and extremely helpful.

Anyway - back to the honeysuckle. It turns out to be Lonicera xylosteum - a new one on me. In his email the RHS botanist tells me it's "a native shrub sometimes known as fly honeysuckle... It normally forms a medium-sized, deciduous shrub producing small, creamy-white flowers in early summer. These may be followed by red berries in the autumn. Although of very restricted native distribution, it is grown in gardens and has become naturalised throughout the country."

I love having an Unusual Plant in my garden. It makes me feel like a trustee of something important - something to do with there not being that many around, but one of them's in my garden. I'll get ideas about National Collections next...