Friday, 27 June 2008
I find the longer I leave between visits to the allotment, the harder it is to visit. The weeds take on mammoth proportions, everything has been eaten down to a one inch stump, nothing is growing; all these thoughts whirl round my head.
But visit I must. The other night I didn't want to but I had (more) runners to put in, the first lot are not doing too well, and the weeds were growing well.
Now, here's the thing. It is always, always, always worth it. I weeded. Watered. Planted my runners. Weeded some more. Tied in my sweetpeas. Oohed and ahhed over my three carrots. And mulched as if my life depended on it.
I admit to needing, usually by about Wednesday, some child-free space and time. Last week I went to quite an effort to get it but this week, as I watched a cock pheasant strutting around the veggie patches, I wondered why I don't automatically make this my go-to place.
And as I wondered around my tiny domain, planning and plotting, I picked my first harvest. I found some strawberries the slugs hadn't and the birds had kindly left me some raspberries.
I'd like to say I shared them with everyone the next morning. I'd also like to say I didn't polish them off with cream left over from birthday cake making.
I'd like to but I can't........