Steve and I just spent the morning picking out our plot at the neighborhood allotments. We are now the renters of a bit (quite a bit) of earth, complete with little buildings and paths and derelict trellises. We have raspberry and strawberry plants, flower beds, fruit trees, unidentified bushes, and room for vegetables all fenced in and in need of serious work before the coming season. As we were walking through the allotments, I alternated between swooning over the fact that I will soon have my very own parsnips growing in the ground and swooning over the fact that I will soon have my very own wellies to wear at the allotment. Completely legitimate wellie-purchasing opportunity. Hooray! And, and, my immense amount of free time can now be spent growing delicious root vegetables and misunderstanding what old Scottish men at the allotments are saying, an improvement, I think, over some of my current activities.
Steve knows all about growing things and I'm enthusiastic about the prospect, but I don't have very much practical gardening experience. When I was growing up, I helped weed our small family gardens, but I also tended to ignorantly rip the plants we were meant to be nurturing out of the ground, like my sister's beloved swiss chard. I'm planning some garden research this afternoon. We don't want a repeat of the Swiss Chard Massacre of '88.
4 comments:
At last the garden allotment will be put to use. Scottish accents do take some getting used to. Have you noticed how Steve will change his accent when talking with the locals?
KWB
I'm so thrilled that you'll be gardening. My google reader only showed me down until "Steve and I spent the morning picking out our plot." I was afraid you were picking out an entirely different type of plot.
Carry on with the wellies.
Excellent. In my mind no living-in-the-UK adventure is complete without gardening an allotment.
Sounds like this garden has more of a chance then Steve's garden last summer. Good luck!
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