Oh spring where art thou?

I don’t want to sound like I’ve got an environmental-related OCD but I need to talk about the weather again. Yesterday, I was practically house-bound due to the Monsoon. Thankfully, I had all the comestibles I needed in my cupboard so didn’t need to go out but when it came to jazzing up my roast potatoes I was forced into the deluge in order to pick a sprig of rosemary. Then, later on, as I coursed down the road in my canoe, I got to thinking, as Carrie Bradshaw says in Sex and the City, when is this fucking weather going to stop and when can I get my flip flops out? My winter broad beans have died in the ground, my hardy Agaves, the Ranulph Fiennes of succulents, are drooping and I don’t even want to talk about my onions.. 

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2 Responses to “Oh spring where art thou?”

  1. Colin Parkinson Says:

    Never mind the pigeons attacking my winter brassicas, I’ve had to cover them in netting while the fat ones stalk the lawn scowling but I fear my PS Broc will not recover

  2. anna Says:

    Yes Colin, the trials and tribulations of an allotmenteer. I grew purple sprouting broccoli last year but to be honest it tasted of wee. This year I tried that Romano broccoli or whatever it’s called; you know the one that looks like an alien – all lost to the cabbage white. I am wondering about pak choi. Any thoughts?

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