Friday night, Sunday morning.

Friday, Rose and I got the bus up to the allotment with the idea of collecting leaves for supper and seeing if the twigs put down last week had given any protection from the veracious pigeons. It was hard to tell if the decimated seedlings had recovered at all. Everything was gloomy, dripping with damp and particularly miserable. Nothing growing except fungus and slugs. We relocated several slugs to the compost heap, hoping they’d be just a happy over there, then gathered salad and chard for a chard tagliatelle.

Sunday morning, I met with Allan at the plot with bundles of string to run between sticks, hoping to create an insurmountable obstacle course for the pigeons. In our heaped corner of the shed we found an old roll of netting and it seemed like a safer insurance policy. It was duly pegged out with cut hazel.  We cleared some space for planting by pulling up a few red treviso chicories. They looked like they weren’t going to grow any larger, more likely succumb to damp and mould, and then planted a couple of rows of broad beans.

22 10 2012

Howard Sooley

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