Absence

August 27th Bank Holiday Monday

Gorgeous sunny day, I’d expected many fellow allotmenteers but I seem to be alone which suits me well today.

An indication of the state of my allotment is that I’ve just discovered bindweed winding its way around a chilli pepper plant INSIDE my shed. The miracle is that my seedlings are still alive despite no watering for a fortnight, the result of so little sunshine this summer since the hot and early Spring.

The thought of all there is to do makes me tired – I’ve definitely lost the plot this summer, it has run away from me, become a free agent. However it does present me with the possibility of not exactly a blank canvas but a fresh start since my sowings for winter haven’t materialised.

My heart has been elsewhere – firstly because of the unexpected, yet joyous, re-opening of doors for us as a family in Cornwall and then the opposite, the tragic death of two of our dearest friends also in Cornwall. For these reasons we have spent most of the summer there resulting in the neglect of my allotment.

Such sadness… the allotment epitomises it all, things dying down now at the end of the summer and so much to deal with. Yet beyond that, somewhere, the hope of new beginnings springing from the old, but I feel it could be a long cold winter.

Show prep

Tuesday 31st July

Bakewell Show tomorrow so I’ve come to collect possible exhibits. I’m not expecting or wanting prizes but I am enjoying the thought of allowing my collaborative partner (the allotment) the opportunity to show off. I’ve brought the list of categories to see what could fit the bill. I thought I may have beetroot but they seem to have either not developed or rotted in the ground. My peas may not be quite mature enough but I may enter them anyway as they have novelty blue pods, perhaps today’s sunshine could be what they need and I could harvest them at dawn tomorrow for the 7.15 deadline.

On my return

Saturday 28th July

I’ve been away for two weeks, just harvested peas, broad beans, onions, garlic, rocket and blackcurrants. Last year I daren’t leave it, this year I needed a break and whilst away the allotment blurred out of focus, no watering anxieties – the heavens have taken care of that this year.

welcome home

Friday 6th July

Great harvest just in time for a feast tonight with my partner home after a week away and 2 of 3 daughters. I feel like a hunter-gatherer.

Finally planted my cucurbit seedlings, climbers in amongst the barren currants and gooseberries and the rest between the soon to be harvested garlic. Also planted out sunflowers providing an edge to the main path.

liberation deliberation

It’s clouding over again after a hot and sunny start. I’m continuing where I left off yesterday, I suppose you could call it weeding - although this always conjures up a picture of kneeling at the edge of a flower border pulling out freshly germinated weedlings (which maybe says more about my family than anything) – my kind of weeding involves pulling up willowherb, nettles, thistles all about shoulder height and some creeping stuff, that must have been the inspiration behind Velcro, together with columbine binding it all together. However, apart from creating hard to dispose of enormous piles of debris, there is an amazing sense of liberation because it means I can start to walk around my allotment again and, more importantly, the plants can experience the light of day. I had no idea how many nearly-ripe blackcurrants there are.

What I think was a kestral just flew over clutching prey in its talons.

grasping nettles

4th July 2007

I’ve spent the last 2 days at home waiting for a significant pause in the rain, unrequitedly. I decided last night to come here this morning regardless of the weather and it seems to have been a good decision – only one brief shower in 3 hours – despite a glowering sky.

I’m very conscious of my neighbours since my plot has turned into a wilderness, a wonderful, fruiting, flowering wilderness but from outside I realise it communicates a total lack of control. This, of course, isn’t a great concern to me but I appreciate I am unusual in my approach to gardening. So, I decided during a fit of paranoia earlier to engage in some community-building and delivered broad beans and raspberries as well as sunflower and tomato plants to my bungalow neighbours. This gesture has been very well received.

As well as this I’ve been ‘grasping nettles’ - a therapeutic activity – and filling one of the 3 sections of my compost bin. Now I’m wondering where to plant my cucurbits (marrow, pumpkin, squash) and brassicas (kale, turnip, brocolli) seedlings. There’s digging to be done!

I’m wondering how my rhubarb is but visiting it would involve negotiating a spiky, impenetrable jungle of thistle, nettle and teazle and will have to wait for another day.

Just had a friendly visit from one of the recipients of my harvest earlier who’d come to thank me again and see what I’m up to. I showed her round as far as is possible and asked her to tell me if anything my side of her fence ever causes her a problem. She assured me she’s very easy going. “if you enjoy it that’s everything”, was her comment on my preference for digging rather than rotovating

3pm – Just made some coffee and snacked on broad beans- it’s a long time since breakfast – thunder is rumbling (as well as my stomach) and rain seems more determined than earlier today. It’s time to go home.

unaided progress

28th June 2007

I’ve felt I’ve been absent for months and on returning this seems to be evident. One of the advantages, however, of working with living media (as opposed to paint/canvas etc.) is that it continues the process of creativity without me…

…a blackbird carrying a lump of white bread as big as its head just flew into a patch of nettles and bindweed to the left of me and now to my right there’s a young bird in my potato bed being fed by its parent…

…I’m quite sure my allotment neighbours must all despair at my lack of desire for control within my plot, but they can’t deny its fruitfulness. When I remember a couple of months ago I was waxing lyrical about how I would miss the wildness if I ever eventually manage to control it, the chances of this ever becoming an issue are laughably microscopic.

Anyway, for the first time this year (apart from a few radish) I am harvesting – broad beans, endive, chicory and more radish