Christmas is finally over...
...and I have absolutely no excuse for not going to the allotment. Or for not writing this blog. Damnation. Went up to collect seed order on Sunday, which was rather embarrassing, as I have enough seeds to feed north Cambridge should I actually manage to get any of them to work. Work, grow, you know what I mean. Astonishingly, found that hurriedly-shoved garlic and onions were actually starting to sprout! Green stuff! I'm growing something!
Pulled a leekling that looked most like a leek and took it home to eat. Very proud moment. Followed by several very gritty moments as I hadn't washed it properly. Glad now that I didn't put manure on that bed. Not that I have any manure, but the principle holds.
Sunday evening after work (I try to kill people with my cooking a couple of times a week- it has actually succeeded once, but that's another story that I probably shouldn't publish) I wandered down to my local. Think I might have mentioned that my neighbour who has a large french tool (really) and the guy across from me who is on the committee both occasionally drink in my local, even though it's not actually local to any of us, as they are actually neighbours. That wasn't one of my better-constructed sentences. That was a shent of a sentence. Anyway, it turns out that a group of the lurking regulars had conferred over Christmas and the idea is being bandied about of getting a pub allotment. So I mentioned that the one next to me (it used to be a double plot) was free and already had fruit trees, bushes, growy stuff etc.
My cunning plan is that the boys (ha!) will take on the plot and I will have a constant supply of conversation, labour and probably beer. Cunning, no? So will press the issue and possibly execute a fait accompli by taking the plot for the outrageous twenty quid involved and presenting them with the title. Though that may not be quite such a good plan as I'm likely to end up with twice as much utterly unmanageable land to grow slugs in. Still, it could be fun?
Came home after work tonight and filled in my heritage seeds order form just in case I have to feed southern Cambridge as well. Hope they like slug stew.
Pulled a leekling that looked most like a leek and took it home to eat. Very proud moment. Followed by several very gritty moments as I hadn't washed it properly. Glad now that I didn't put manure on that bed. Not that I have any manure, but the principle holds.
Sunday evening after work (I try to kill people with my cooking a couple of times a week- it has actually succeeded once, but that's another story that I probably shouldn't publish) I wandered down to my local. Think I might have mentioned that my neighbour who has a large french tool (really) and the guy across from me who is on the committee both occasionally drink in my local, even though it's not actually local to any of us, as they are actually neighbours. That wasn't one of my better-constructed sentences. That was a shent of a sentence. Anyway, it turns out that a group of the lurking regulars had conferred over Christmas and the idea is being bandied about of getting a pub allotment. So I mentioned that the one next to me (it used to be a double plot) was free and already had fruit trees, bushes, growy stuff etc.
My cunning plan is that the boys (ha!) will take on the plot and I will have a constant supply of conversation, labour and probably beer. Cunning, no? So will press the issue and possibly execute a fait accompli by taking the plot for the outrageous twenty quid involved and presenting them with the title. Though that may not be quite such a good plan as I'm likely to end up with twice as much utterly unmanageable land to grow slugs in. Still, it could be fun?
Came home after work tonight and filled in my heritage seeds order form just in case I have to feed southern Cambridge as well. Hope they like slug stew.
posted by Bupster at 8:18 pm
2 Comments:
If you feed North Cambridge, I will do the south of the city!!!
Excellent. We could probably take over the world after that. Moo ha ha...
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