The allotment next to ours has been in a miserable state.
Each winter, an aspiring Monty Don was plucked from the allotment waiting list. Each spring, they purchased an exciting set of new tools. Each summer, the plot started to increasingly resemble a railway embankment. Each autumn, the committee informed the poor souls they were no longer welcome.
So the chaps on the committee have very kindly let us have some of it. Desperation, we think.
The people who abandoned the plot have got a point. The weeds are offensively successful – a mess of couch grass, brambles, bindweed, and a twenty foot poplar tree. The soil has no structure and no fertility, and any lump of it would perform particularly well on a pottery wheel.
But in spite of this, we have some more land. Huzzah!
Each winter, an aspiring Monty Don was plucked from the allotment waiting list. Each spring, they purchased an exciting set of new tools. Each summer, the plot started to increasingly resemble a railway embankment. Each autumn, the committee informed the poor souls they were no longer welcome.
So the chaps on the committee have very kindly let us have some of it. Desperation, we think.
The people who abandoned the plot have got a point. The weeds are offensively successful – a mess of couch grass, brambles, bindweed, and a twenty foot poplar tree. The soil has no structure and no fertility, and any lump of it would perform particularly well on a pottery wheel.
But in spite of this, we have some more land. Huzzah!
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