Bless you

My eyes are the size of rice crispies and my nose is besieged by snot. Oh, the joys of June, hay fever season. Allotment duties are dangerous – sharp instruments and violent bouts of sneezing are not good companions. In fact, the other evening I was up there on watering duty when I ┬álet rip, tripped over and fell into the water butt. Apart from swallowing a few waterboatmen, I am fine. By the way, my vegetables are looking beautiful, thanks to fellow allotmenteer, Joe. Joe is an Italian with hair the consistency of a brillo pad and a penchant for double-entendres. However, he’s also an award-winning gardener and has a raft of top tips up his cap sleeved t-shirt. eg, cockleshells deter slugs. I have sprinkled said shells all around my tender green stuff and, reluctant to rip apart their undercarriages for the sake of a leaf supper, the slugs are staying away. I have now tasted the first of my spinach and I can tell you, it’s delish.

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