It’s been a very eventful, very messy week on the allotment. I’ve had manure in my hair, snail poo under my nails, plus I ripped my arm open on a sweet pea wigwam. I also had to have a strong word with Ted, the allotmenteer with the Filippino internet bride who doesn’t like root vegetables, who, when engaged in a conversation about rhubarb, casually brushed my bottom with his hoe. I said ‘Ted, just because I’ve eaten one or two of your Jerusalem artichokes, does not mean you can make free with my buttocks.’ He didn’t laugh, although he has a very hairy face and I’m never sure where his mouth is. I have made a mental note to stop weeing in my compost as I fear, this may have led him to believe I was up for allotment petting.