signs of hope

I stepped outside the back door this morning, breakfast toast and Grant Kester (Conversation Pieces) in hand and was greeted by this wondrous rainbow arching over my shed and greenhouse (I hope other people saw it do the same over theirs). Toast eaten and Kester has become a bookrest but I have conversation on my mind. I’ve invited an artist who’s work intrigues me to join me for a conversation here in my shed whilst he’s visiting Cornwall this week. I’m hoping his time allows for this.

Two military aircraft and the cloud have now passed over and the sun is attempting to break through again. I’m going to pot up some bulbs I brought with me from my last garden and position them with another pot of bulbs I’ve rescued under a leaking gutter.

returning from sadness

Written from a patch of sunshine at the top end of the garden. The day before our middle daughter’s 22nd birthday (she is in Finland) and 15 days since my father died aged 87.

I’ve been attempting for at least the third time to secure the end of the garden thus inhibiting my dog’s desire to wander. It always feels wrong if I’m in the garden and he’s shut in the house. He’s been a good companion to me during the period of my father dying. He waited patiently in the car for me every time I visited the hospital and adapted to staying in four different friends’ and families’ houses.

I woke up this morning with the urge to plan my crops for next year. This will be very different to my previous growing patterns because of a warmer climate, less space and use of a greenhouse.

It is now the end of the day and a conversation with my neighbour over the hedge that I was cutting resulted in my borrowing a roll of her husband’s chicken wire to secure the end of the garden, on condition that I return it in the spring when he will need it for planting his peas. It is, miraculously, exactly the right length.

back on track

Back in my shed, back on broadband and so all up and running. The lesson learned is that transition always takes longer than I anticipate and that trying to rush it is fruitless and frustrating.

In the meantime I’ve spent time deciding which bits of the grass to dig up for a kitchen garden. It’s very different working a garden as opposed to an allotment, there are other people’s needs to consider such as spaces to sit in the sun and the shade and the provision of flowers as well as food. Today I completed digging my first vegetable bed in which to plant some of the garlic I grew on my allotment this year.

I just had to retrieve my dog from the garden of the house behind ours. He has found a way to push through the barrier I’ve made out of the branches I’ve pruned from evergreen trees. I lured him back with some cheese (a delicacy he can never refuse even when it’s wrapped around a tablet he won’t eat any other way) and now he’s locked in the house again, silly dog. We are going to have to buy some more effective fencing, chicken wire probably, which will at least be one step towards keeping hens.

a sense of autumn

It’s autumn. I realised this yesterday when I came out to my shed early on, sun shining and blue sky; but the shed was cool. Until now the same conditions would have turned my shed into a little hot house by that time of day.

I am pretty much decided now on where I will have my vegetable beds. I have tried a series of straight rows and square beds by marking them out with string but what seems to be most satisfactory is a sunburst emanating from a quarter circle of grass (for family and dog to sit on.) I have mown the paths, leaving the bed areas un-mown, in order to get a sense of how it will be.

The biggest frustration is our lack of broadband internet connectivity which means that I have to negotiate use of other people’s wireless connections in order to check my emails and update my blog.

Relocation

Sunday 5th October

Views from a potting shed – part 1:

The one thing that hasn’t changed is that I am able to write my blog in my potting shed. Otherwise everything about my practice is different, new house, garden instead of allotment, new neighbours, different climate and wildlife.

Last allotment visit

Tuesday 30th September

It’s all over! Yesterday was my last day – I went equipped with my friend’s dainty spade and secateurs, arrived at 9.15 and was done by 11am in time to collect my youngest daughter and deliver her to a dental appointment (wisdom teething problems). I harvested 2 sweetcorn, 3 courgettes, a few autumn raspberries and a host of runner beans. I added revoltingly slimy compost and activator to the compost heap as I didn’t want to leave this unpleasant task for my successor. Then, I dug summer and autumn raspberry plants, gooseberries and blackcurrants for transplanting and picked purple daisies. This was when I realised I’d finished and that there was no need to return as planned in the afternoon which meant instead I had time to visit my friend who is convalescing after a nasty accident and deliver the raspberry canes she’d asked for as well as daises and raspberries that were all a bit squashed having shared the car boot with my Labrador dog! My last photo was of ‘Tiny’ the black cat who had greeted me on this last visit and also my first and most others in between.

towards the end of the story and the start of another...

Saturday 6th September

I’ve worked here from 9.15 until 11.45 this morning with 2 key tasks to complete. I had to take photographs for a book I am collaborating in which involved digging up the horseshoe from under the cowslip as well as including some other imported objects. I also dug my potatoes and seedbed seedlings (leeks and brassicas) and some herbs that I grew from seed last year, to transplant into my new garden. I’ve no shed here now it’s waiting to be re-erected in Cornwall but I still parked my tools and bags on the site where it stood; force of habit I suppose…
… I’m back this afternoon after sharing lunch with my (book) co-collaborator. I’m sitting under my elder/rose arbour on the palette I placed there for this purpose. I’m planning one more visit here at the end of the month to harvest sweetcorn, artichokes and anything else that’s thriving and to finally let go. The rain is coming again- it’s been miraculously dry in spells today after what feels like constant rain for several days, so time to move on now…

bindweed takeover

Wednesday 6th August

Came to the allotment today (sun) and yesterday (rain) for the first time in three weeks. I had no idea how quickly everything- particularly weeds- grows at this time of year.

short but sadly sweet

I think I've been in denial about my separation from the allotment. I've spent the last 2 weeks planning for our 3 week trip to Cornwall which we embark on today and I've not been coming to the allotment. On the way here I began to feel unsettled and by the time I was walking up the path and into the allotment which greeted me with a plethora of colour - crimson poppies, violet blue borage, delicate pink comfrey and vibrant veridian pot marigold - I felt overwhelmed with sadness at the thought of leaving it all finally at the end of the summer and frustration that I hadn't remembered my camera.

Anyway, I did what I came here to do and planted my curcubits - marrows, pumpkins, courgettes and squash - that hadn't perished thank goodness. I also planted out sweetcorn, aubergine and peppers all of which probably won't come to much but have a better chance in the ground outside than pot-bound and dry in the potting shed.

Then I harvested broad beans and mange-tout peas that are at their peak of fruitfulness and was thoroughly soaked by rain.

I'm now in my shed making a cup of coffee I don't really have time for and remembering that the reason I haven't been is because I knew I'd stay too long and forgo my tax form and other vital tasks in favour of activities like weeding the autumn raspberries that I won't be around to harvest anyway.

The rain has stopped, birds are singing, trees are dripping and the sound of traffic reminds me that I should be driving to my parents to deliver plants and produce prior to our departure later today.

midsummer madness

It certainly feels like midsummer here, not because of the weather which is very windy but because of the state of growth. Everything is at least waist height, or so it seems. However, some of the plants that I’d given up on have obviously benefited from the recent rain and are, particularly the tomatoes, looking to have a new lease of life after a parched start. In some other beds seeds are germinating that I sowed months ago and that I had given up on. In my shed the cucurbits seem to have all worked this year after a disaster last year and this will be my first job when I come here again, to get them out and into the ground.

It is odd knowing that some of the produce I’ve sown and nurtured will be someone else’s banquet but so long as it doesn’t go to waste this is not a bad thing. I have decided to move my shed to my new garden in Cornwall and to hand over the allotment at the end of September. I am beginning to detach from it already as I’ve had a report to write but now I’m back it has hooked me in again and I have to say I am calmer than I’ve been for some time.

gale-force glazing

It’s Bank Holiday Monday and I have decided to spend most of the day at the allotment rather than at the nearby college that my partner works at where there is a Festival with thousands of people attending. I have dutifully done some gardening there in preparation, given some people bed and breakfast and baked a cake for the college committee so I don’t feel too guilty.

It is extremely windy here today. I opened the door of my shed and one of the big panes of glass began flapping, my glazing skills leave a great deal to be desired. I rushed outside with a hammer and some tacks and have managed to salvage the situation before the glass blew right out as was the fate of its predecessor.

I haven’t been here for a couple of weeks apart from calling to water seedlings and harvest rhubarb and herbs so there is much to be done. My neighbour who I’ve planted beans for hailed me and asked if I’ve been away in Cornwall. He summoned me to ‘come and see your handy-work’. Most of the bean seeds I planted are now visible and looking strong despite the dry, windy and frosty weather, so he is happy.

Saturday 31st May

Consulted with allotment neighbour and decided to plant out half my tomatoes, chillies, basil, fennel and coriander seedlings. I weeded rocket beds and plan to plant lettuce in 2nd rocket bed in the gaps and brassicas next to the fennel thus leaving my seedbed free for squashes when they’re ready. Finished digging runner bean bed, 2 rowsx8canes- 2 seeds per cane, my own seed from 2 years ago and homemade compost. Re-sowed French beans, only one each of blue and red survived. Sowed more peas, Norli, where older seeds failed to germinate.

the process of letting go gradually

Monday 5th May

On Saturday I told one of the allotmenteers that I will be handing over my allotment tenancy mid August. Yesterday one of my friends called for a cup of tea and asked about it – it seems a group of her friends, living nearby, on hearing that we’re leaving, would like to take it on. I’m asking myself why this feels uncomfortable and I’m thinking it’s because letting go is a painful though necessary process.

The pair of robins that usually appear when I’m digging are inspecting the patch I’ve just turned over and there’s a big fat bee sucking on my blackcurrant flowers.

I’d planned to be here all day yesterday but it rained incessantly all day, as a result today is moist and misty but warm, very warm in comparison to recent weather – there was a frost last week.

Letting go seems to be my current theme, the hardest of all being the death of my friend in Cornwall. However, the burial we organised in the corner of a friend’s field, in an adapted crate was I think what he’d have wanted. The only real expense was the cost of the Death Certificate, everything else was DIY, even to my friend collecting him from the mortuary in her landrover. Filling in the grave after he was placed into it by his friends was a profound priviledge.

Sunday 11th May

5pm – I’ve not been here long, it’s such a hot day I thought I wouldn’t survive digging through it. Now there is shade where I am digging for my runner bean bed. The ground is extremely dry though and hard, we could do with some rain.

A robin has just realised it’s my tea break and has dropped into where I’ve been digging for its usual snack.

After consulting with various neighbours, allotment and otherwise, I went to see the allotment landlord to talk about my handing over the plot. We discussed it being divided and I gave him the names of some of the people who’ve expressed an interest. He said he has more of a list than usual, which he puts down to people being concerned about the rising cost of food. He suggested I don’t hand over until 29th September as this marks the half-year of my tenancy and that since my rent is paid until March I’d be entitled to keep it until then and thus benefit from the harvest. He also suggested I could mark out a section to keep until it’s convenient to move out. This had me thinking and I’m going to suggest that the plot is divided into three and that I keep the middle third for the time being, justified by two daughters and my parents being nearby and whom I will be regularly visiting. I will then relinquish it if or when it becomes burdensome. If my landlord agrees to this proposition I will keep my shed here after all.

Monday 19th May

There’s reading and writing to be done, let alone sorting and clearing for our move in August. So I’m here just to touch base, water the in-shed seedlings and my neighbours, discuss this morning’s frost with the man I’ve planted runner beans for and document photographically what’s been going on here. So, it’s quite an objective, detached response today.

rethinking the plan

Time to reconsider my planting plan. I have just finished digging a bed that I intended for peas. However, I am very behind with my digging due to four visits to Cornwall since Easter. I think I am going to plant less of each crop and then use each bed for at least two crops instead of one. So, my pea bed can double as peas and French beans perhaps, or peas and sweetcorn.

My sweet peas seem to have been a complete disaster, not one germinated. So, I’m thinking instead of having something edible growing up the fence, I’m not sure what just yet, possibly climbing courgettes.

"plant a potato for me"

The friend I planted potatoes with last week sent a text last night saying ‘plant a potato for me’. I took this to mean the same thing as ‘say a prayer’ or ‘light a candle’, but in my context. Oddly, I’d just been thinking whilst hanging my washing that I really should have all the beds I’ve dug planted by now. So, I came here today to do just that which also meant planting up my newly dug annual herbs’ bed. This includes parsley, coriander, rocket, both cultivated and wild, dill and chervil. Some of these seeds are not too fresh so may not germinate, we will see.

This evening we are travelling to Cornwall and I am hoping to visit some of the people who also knew and loved my friend from the woods.

disorientated by grief

I have entirely lost track of time since Saturday when we lost an hour. We had just turned out our lights at home in solidarity with a global energy saving action for the hour between 8 and 9 when the phone rang. It was someone telling me that one of my most treasured friends had been found dead 3 hours earlier. This made sense of my restlessness that day. I had been here at the allotment and just couldn’t settle to digging even though the sun was shining, so I cleaned out my shed instead. Then the weather became increasingly dismal, dark threatening clouds accompanied by a cold wind. I packed up early and went home to sit by a log fire.

This particular friend had spent the last twenty years of his life living outside of four walls with increasingly little. This was his aim in fact, to live with nothing. He had no income, no running water (just a stream within walking distance), no electricity, no heating apart from a wood stove fashioned out of an old gas bottle, no clothes whenever possible and he cooked on a fire outside. He lived on what he could salvage from other people’s scraps and supermarket skips and the occasional goodwill of some people who respected his lifestyle. For some of these years he was accompanied in this mission by a partner with whom he shared an intense and loving relationship which resulted in three children all born in their tiny bender (makeshift home).

This friend will be sadly missed by many people who encountered him, maybe lived alongside him for a while or just, like me, visited him by way of retreat. In these moments of remembering one thing’s for sure, there will always be laughter.

When I saw him last I was describing my project here on the allotment to him. He had absolutely no problem understanding what I am doing here and the concept of ‘becoming’. I owe so much to him.

dodging the weather

The MET office seem to be spot on at the moment, rain all day yesterday and brilliant sunshine this morning followed by rain for the next few days. So, I came over early today to work while I can. Sure enough after a gloriously sunny start to the day it’s now late morning and clouding over. Yesterday’s downpour meant that digging has been a less than satisfactory experience so I decided to clear up my shed. I’ve been in the habit of storing my found objects just outside my shed and I’m realising that, these being the one part of my allotment activity that I will eventually take with me, I should be taking more care of them since they, unlike my tools are irreplaceable. So I now have them carefully stored under my potting bench next to the box containing objects I unearthed during the digging of my previous vegetable plot in Newlyn, Cornwall.

On Thursday a friend and I planted potatoes; Orla, white earlies which we’ve put in next to my broad beans that are beginning to make an appearance and Verity, a white with pink eyes of which I have twice as many as I’ve provided space for. I’m considering digging yet another potato bed for my Desiree, reds, which still need to go in and in the meantime planting the rest of my Verity in the Desiree bed. I wonder what a psychoanalyst would make of that? Two years ago I realised once I’d done it that I’d planted Amour and Desiree in the same bed!

an invitation for me and another for you

I’ve been digging along the wall between my shed and my shady seat. The intention is to create a flat path, since the previous one has always been sloping and slippery, and also a bed for perennial herbs. I grew sage, thyme rosemary and tarragon last year and now want the bed they are in for a seedbed. Whilst I was digging I came across, as usual, a number of objects that had found their way into the ground accidentally. I have developed a way of using these found objects as a means to collaborative story telling in the context of an art audience. - http://www.laurawild.org.uk/BLOC%20Assembly.html - I am wondering if it may be possible to do the same thing within my blog via the comments box? If you would like to try this please click on ‘comments’ below and continue the story that I will begin there.

I arrived in time for my lunch today. Yesterday my bungalow neighbour had mimed ‘come and have soup tomorrow’ and said ‘about quarter to one?’, so despite a busy morning this was an invitation I didn’t want to pass by. He called me in last week too and sat me at his kitchen table from which there is a view of my fruit beds through the window.

I’m just about to pack up and go home. My back is feeling the lack of digging replaced by long car journeys for five days around Easter weekend. I picked some daffodils for a neighbour who always stops to chat on her way up the lane (she once gave me a bundle of netting for my fruit bushes). She was talking about needing a sprung rake to get the moss out of her lawn, so I’ve lent her mine as I rarely use it.

relaxing into the process

Tuesday 18th March

The trouble with an overview is that it magnifies the enormity of an already enormous task and can cause me to feel exhausted at the thought of all there is to be done…

This is what I’ve been thinking whilst digging just now. I spent much of last week planning where beds will be and which need to be dug first for the earliest crops. At first it helped me realise just how much I have already achieved but now I am feeling swamped by how much there is to do and I have found myself starting bits of digging in several places which just seems to turn up the pressure.

I guess it is no coincidence that I have, alongside this allotment activity, been working on a plan/timetable for the completion of my PhD. What a daunting task! I need another kind of strategy to make it all seem manageable.

The other realisation I had whilst digging and pondering all this is that whilst grand plans are necessary to a degree their essence is in fact contradictory, if not detrimental, to my methodology as a whole which is that of becoming, allowing, responding to etc. etc. So, having written the plan for my research and drawn up the plans for my beds on the allotment I now need to relax into the process again and focus on the task at hand, whether this be digging the next few feet or reading, mulling over and writing about the next few pages of philosophy.

re-carpeting

Thursday 13th March

Very productive day today, no rain! I’ve cleared the pile of wood, well actually I’ve moved the twiggy bits to a part of the allotment that I won’t be planting this spring. I’ve also finished clearing out the pigsty, lined it with carpet underlay that I gleaned from a neighbours cast-offs and then cut the remaining logs to fit and stored them in there to season for the wood stove next winter.

I’ve cut back brambles and other weeds from the wild end of the plot, near to where the wall is being repaired and moved the carpet that was under the woodpile over there as a base for all the stone and rubble to be moved onto. My theory is that then the weeds then won’t grow through the stones and it also means that I can clear the bed for my marrows, squashes and courgettes.

I started to dig my third potato bed and have dug about a third of it including digging out a sycamore tree root that had established itself there.

To break up the strenuous work I paced out where my beds will be and marked them with sticks and string. It’s 5pm now and I arrived here at 10.30am, it definitely works well being here for a good few hours at a time.

The bungalow man who’s bean bed I’m working on has ordered another bottle of wine for me, he says he’ll have it ready for me tomorrow. “Say nothing” was his command!

happy hedgehog day

Spring must be here because the hibernating hedgehog has woken and wandered off. I’m so happy that it has survived winter in the environs of my allotment.

I have planted sweet peas along the wire fence that I repaired. I have provided each seed with a raspberry cane to climb up. I have less seed than I should have for the length of bed, so I’ve planted one at each cane instead of the recommended two and hope they will all be productive.

My bungalow neighbour has asked me to buy him some canes to grow beans up. The neighbour who lets me use her bonfire stopped for a chat and was saying that she hadn’t heard if she was able to have the allotment she’s applied for. I suggested she ring and remind them about it. Sure enough, a little later she hailed me to say “I’ve got it!” I am so happy for her and congratulated her as enthusiastically as if she had just given birth to a third child!

beoming fruitful

Sunday 9th March

Arrived soon after nine this morning. It’s now after four. I’ve achieved loads here today. I finished the currant bed, digging and transplanting from other area into it. I planted my shallots. Then I fixed posts and wire for summer raspberries to be supported by. This alerted me to other fruit needs, so I weeded the strawberry bed and transplanted the baby gooseberry bushes so that they are better spaced. Then I fed raspberries, gooseberries and strawberries with my own compost and rhubarb with the last of the extremely well-rotted manure after which I continued to dig my onion bed but realised that I’m tired, so I’ve stopped for tea and cake!

Under the weather

It feels like weeks since I was last digging. In fact it is only 4 days. In the meantime I have been under the weather in more ways than one. The gales at the weekend, following the earthquake last Wednesday, were astonishing, I called on Sunday to check my shed was still in one piece after losing a window last winter. This morning we woke up to a blizzard but it had all gone by mid-morning giving way to a beautifully sunny, though cold, day. I can now see dark clouds looming and wonder if there’s more snow on its way.

Just inspected the hibernating hedgehog because I could see that some of it’s moss covering had been moved. There was a hole at one side of the mound that I peered into - I saw spines so carefully covered it with another generous helping of moss. I hope it is still alive in there.

There was a stall on the market this morning selling seed potatoes and onion sets, so I bought a bag of Desiree, since I can’t find Pomeroy anywhere, and a small bag of shallots that I will need to find a corner for.

transplanting

Monday 25th February

Started work at 10am, it’s now 3.30pm, made a decision to move gooseberries to edge of path and transplant other blackcurrants to the bed I’m working on. It’s coming along nicely but at least another day’s work still to do.

essential grounding

Two and a half hours seems so short now that I’m used to working whole days here. It poured with rain when I was about to leave home at lunchtime, so I ended up catching the 3pm bus. Now the sky is turning pink at the end of the day.

I had some help carrying my old doors to the back of my shed where I’m hoping to create a lean-to or cold-frames for hardening-off seedlings come early summer.

I’ve been digging big weeds and buttercups from between the currants and gooseberries, digging is imperative to me at the moment, I’m finding it hard to concentrate on my written research so I’m hoping I’ll be more earthed this evening when
I get home.

positive feedback

Warmer weather is making for easier digging. I’m working around the currant and gooseberry bushes that every year become choked by willow herb, nettles and bindweed. I pruned them the first year so last year they were barren but they now have new budding growth, which I hope will bear fruit abundantly.

I spent some time working together with my wall-building friend to take down a large section of wall that needs to be rebuilt. He is now digging out the foundations that seem to be bottomless.

One of my fellow allotmenteers this morning said that people were commentating (as he puts it) on how much progress has been made in my allotment, which is very encouraging. I think this was said during the council lorry visit this morning, an event that I totally forgot about.

Digging thinking

Sunday 17th February

Yesterday was perfect digging weather, sunny but not hot. The ground had been frosted but had thawed so that weeds and roots almost seemed to help themselves in being lifted out of the earth. I had to pack up earlier than I’d expected and I still had at least an hour’s digging left in me.

Today, I had to spend the morning cooking at home for a dozen guests due to arrive this evening but I escaped as soon as was feasible on the 1pm bus. I expected the same conditions as yesterday as there seemed to be similar warmth from the sun but arrived to find the ground still hard. It’s not impossible to dig but there is about an inch of frozen earth meaning that each fork full has to be broken open and each root eased out. This has put me in mind of how sometimes the most rewarding conversations that take place require a mutual process of coaxing and releasing of memory.

not quite boiling

It’s just taken my kettle nearly half an hour to not quite boil! I am going to take it with me and exchange it for a new one even though there is a tiny flame. It’s 5.20, I didn’t get here until about 4 today but it’s been worth it to dig another few square feet whilst the ground is perfect for digging.

It’s winter again suddenly, grey, dull and cold, but dry so the ground is becoming less slippery to walk on. I’ve had a few comedy moments in the last few weeks due to the muddy conditions underfoot.

domestic distractions

I’m only able to be here for a short spell on this spring-like though breezy day. I brought my lunch and did some digging. This morning I was at home for the plumber whom came to see why our hot water is cold. He was with us two days ago unblocking the sink after it became blocked by our youngest daughter pouring meat fat down it, which wasn’t really her fault, just a gap in her education since I don’t cook that kind of food.

Also this morning I was clearing her bedroom, a task I don’t generally take responsibility for, but she was ‘creeped out’ by the fact that the room was full of crickets that had tried to escape from the impending doom of being fed to her gekko, Evo, which I hasten to add was not bought into our family home but rescued from our eldest daughter’s boyfriend who had reluctantly received it as a birthday present from his university friends and who wanted it to have a better home.

I must go now to my the art group that I run at a nearby college. I was wondering whilst digging about maybe bringing them here one week.

two days of progress

Monday 4th February

Two good long days in a row and I start to feel as though I’m getting somewhere. I’ve made considerable progress with the broad bean beds, one more day’s digging should do it. I’ve realised I can plant more than one crop in each bed as they’re bigger than I’d anticipated so this means I can leave some of the beds to be dug over the summer for winter crops.

I arrived on the 10.20 bus and it’s now 3.45. It has been spring-like weather, sunny all morning and this afternoon and a heavy shower in the middle of the day when I retreated to the shed and typed a planting calendar in the form of an excel document. I always think I’ll be able to remember when things need planting but there are so many details with the number of crops I intend to grow so this should help.

Tuesday 5th February

Sheltering in the shed with my wall-builder as a heavy shower of rain passes over… which it now seems to have.

A very productive day today, planted remaining garlic with some from the coop and some transplants that were coming up in last year’s garlic bed. Planted a bag of daffodil bulbs near to my rose arbour seat. Filled about 20 bags with rubbish and put it near the gate to take to the council lorry on Saturday morning. My wall-building friend has once again made stunning progress and finally, I dug the nettle roots out from a patch against the wall, between the two dead dogs. This is to prepare a position in which to re-site my Victorian bath. my idea is that I can prop a sheet of corrugated plastic against the wall and into the bath to collect rainwater. The patch I've dug is approximately 6 foot by 3 foot and to a random passer by with a vivid imagination could look like a recently filled grave. When I told my wall-building friend this he suggested part burying a mannequins hand, I told him this was not really my style! However, it does tie in with my musings about the bottle I discovered recently in the pigsty! My allotment seems to be rapidly becoming a gardener's version of Cluedo!

Had a friendly conversation this morning with my allotment neighbour who it seems will be spending more weekdays at the allotment than has been his habit until now. The community continues to evolve.

snow day no play followed by productive sunday

I’m here on my own which is rare these days. I’ve been digging my broad bean bed again now that it’s a little drier. I’ve also planted the organic garlic I sent away for and as I suspected I needed twice as much so I took a trip to the nearby garden centre where they didn’t have any. I think I’ll buy some organic garlic from the coop, which I did last year, and plant that.

Yesterday my wall-builder and I came up to the allotment, which was covered in snow, but we didn’t do any work; a mixture of laziness and fragility due to the cold!

On consulting my plan that I drew up on New Year’s Eve I realise there are a few errors. There is at least one less bed than I calculated for in the bottom section so I’ve planted garlic in 3 rows down the middle of one leaving space for a row of beetroot either side. These two crops are noted companions so I thought they might like to share a bed.