So after spending a delightful hour in the Chiswick House Kitchen Gardens with Sarah and her girls - they really do have a splendid and relatively unknown treasure there - I felt more excited than ever to get over to our own little Slice of Earth and do some work.
Sarah mentioned that, on an early-morning jog-by, she had seen some grass coming up on the "back 2/3, " which we are planning on leaving as a bowling green-esque type space, with (hopefully, if I can afford it), a beautiful cherry tree and picnic bench. The reason for this was simply that the whole plot is so huge, the plan was to focus our initial growing efforts on the "top 1/3." There is a charming wooden divider in place already from Fred's previous efforts, so it's an easy way to start.
Anyway, we had laid about a "gazillion" (my daughter's phrase) grass seeds last weekend, so I would certainly hope some had germinated, but still very reassuring nonetheless. So with an eye towards seeing how the grass was coming up, planting a sunflower my daughter had been incubating on our kitchen window for the last 4 months and seeing how our initial efforts were going (cucumbers, pumpkins and sunflowers, for those paying attention), my little one and I set off with the dogs to plot 20.
I should also mention that I have been simultaneously reading three allotment-focused books in the last week, which are all gearing my excitement to a fever pitch. The books are (if anyone cares): One Man and his Dig (very entertaining, and informative - I've defaced it already with about 25 scribbled notes on the front inside cover), Digger's Diary and The Armchair Naturalist; How to be Good at Nature Without Really Trying (which is borderline anorak material, but I love it).
So, as you can gather, I am ready to go allotment-ing.
What happened was much less gardening-orientated. I got to the allotment, parked the car, got the dogs out, got my daughter out, grabbed a bag full of tools, slammed the boot shut . . . and only then realised that my car keys, wallet and mobile were all still in the car. And it autolocks.
What took place over the next three hours was a case study in the AA's uselessness, the kindliness of strangers (I had to flag down 3 separate cars to borrow mobiles, to call the useless AA), and a case study in how NOT to impress your fellow Allotmenteers. By the time I had finally given up waiting for the useless AA to arrive, I had met the famous Sean (Pride and Glory of the Promenade, as his plot has won best of out of 700 two times!) and his friend (who were lovely) and the kind inhabitants of No. 24, who helped me break into my own car.
So let's recap what our neighbors at the Promande know about us so far:
- Our dogs poo.
- We outsource the hard stuff.
- I am an idiot.
But do you know what? All I can think of is how much I wish I had a babysitter tonight, so I could dash over there after my sweetpea is in bed, and plot out our future gardening.
I guess it's love.
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