Tales from my handbag

Following a visit to my allotment where I indulged myself with a vigorous bout of strimming, I have several injuries: cuts and bruises to my upper and lower torso, sunburn across my upper bottom and a broken toenail. Yeah, ok, so I’m cavalier when it comes to garden implements. On a positive note, my broad beans are coming along nicely as are my onions. Looking at my very full and positively steaming compost, I was reminded of the short video I made as an entry to Loose Women’s ‘Make me a Loose Woman’ competition. I opined for a full minute on the joy of outdoor weeing. Sadly, having watched Monday’s episode, it appears I have not been chosen to appear on the programme. And after all that hard work on the part of Nev who was my cameraman/director/fluffer. He must have had a very sore wrist after our afternoon session! Bloody ITV, they don’t know what they’re missing.

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.. 

I have a confession. I have been neglecting my allotment. I went up there for the first time in weeks, the other day, and, oh my, it is a sorry sight, what with the weeds an’ all. My purple sprouting broccoli has sprouted but not in the way it should have. It’s yellow, not purple. I believe it’s called ‘going to seed’. George, next door, said it might be the excessive rain. I rescued a few ‘heads’ that were the requisite colour but they were so small and piddling, I knew in my heart, they would be mocked if I were to serve them to one of my so called friends. Never mind, I tried. My leeks, however, are fine and I’ve had several leek meals. I went up today and planted my onions and three rows of carrots. While I was on my hands and knees, sprinkling my ‘Nantes Early 5′, Bob passed by in his car and laughed at me. Laughed! He wondered why I was bothering growing carrots when I could get them for 60p a bag at Sainsbury’s. I said, ‘Bob, you don’t know how many bags of carrots I eat in a week and anyway, I like organic carrots, which are rather more than 60p a bag’. That shut him up. Next, I’m sticking some broad beans in. I won’t bother with potatoes. To be honest, I found them a bit boring last year. I might, however, have another go with the broccoli (the regular kind). Please let me know if I have become a vegetable bore.