8 September - The Winner Takes It All

We are entering the balmy days of September. A little chillier in the mornings and the evenings are drawing in ever so slightly. But lovely clear calm weather prevails, and joy is in our hearts this morning as we prepare for our first experience of the St Stephens Annual Show.

Earlier in the week we submitted our entry form, accompanied by 20p - in the Novice Potatoes (5) category. The tricky bit was identifying the most perfect specimens of our crop which had to be consistent in size and quality, as our modest harvest had yielded an eclectic variety of shapes, sizes and textures. We made the selection and prepared by buying some paper plates (the vessel of choice for showing produce on). N gently washed the potatoes and we were off to go to the setting up, not knowing what to expect.

We were delighted to find that there was only one other competitor in our category. We laid our potatoes out as artistically as we could, observing what others were doing, then took ourselves off for a couple of hours until the show started.

The atmosphere was electric. N felt "quietly confident".

To find that... yes, readers - the hard work, the toil and the sweat had paid off! We had been awarded 2nd prize and the other entry nothing!

We puzzled over the seemingly anomalous position of getting the best award in our category without getting a 1st, but then noticed that a number of entries had been similarly treated. We came to the conclusion that the Judges (who remained unseen except for a tiny shimmer in the air) had overriding criteria for each award - which kind of makes sense, a bit like university-degree classification.

We even had the benefit of a Post-It Note which confirmed that we would have got the 1st prize if our potatoes had been of the same size (well, they nearly were). So we could have been given a 3rd prize - indeed, that's what was awarded to our allotment-neighbours-but-one (the Model Plot) who put in some beans into the novice class. They were the only entry, but got a 3rd, which we thought was a little harsh as they looked fab.

Our heads spinning with the heady joy of achievement, we smugly swanned around the rest of the show. Various local friends and neighbours attended, and even The Neighbours from next door graciously put in an appearance as a prelude to watching the Ingerlund -v- Israel game. Our allotment neighbours were suitably complimentary and congratulatory.

There were more than 80 categories - onions, tomatoes, potatoes, leeks, beetroot, celery, parsnips, fruit of all sorts, flowers of all sorts, cakes, pictures, kids' paintings, poems, knitted garments, embroidery and so on and so on. Very interesting to see how similar it was in layout and feel to the show we had gone to during our holiday recently in a small village in Wales. Though obviously there were no Welsh speakers, and strangely, no cabbages.

A particularly intriguing category was called "Ones that didn't work". Among the items was this rather rude carrot.

Another item which we thought our readers would appreciate was this splendid elephant made out of carrot and miscellaneous vegetables. This was made by the grandson of our allotment-neighbours-but-one (they who have the Model Plot). It won 1st prize.

The end of the show was marked by a prize-giving ceremony. There were many cups and mentions, including prizes for the children, including the abovementioned grandson of the Model Plot.

We have omitted mention of Mr Getley until now, but his name was liberally scattered throughout all the show entries, most notably the vegetables. Mr Getley was also the MC, the speechmaker and giver out of prizes. When, as frequently happened, he was the recipient of the prize, another member of the committee seamlessly took over the announcements.

In other circumstances, one could imagine that a degree of resentment amongst the assembly would be normal - but none could be detected. The applause was honest and heartfelt. We could only surmise that this had happened many times before, and, we hope, many more times in the future. Such is the nature of the Annual Show and we are thrilled and delighted to have played a small part in its success.

Oh, and England beat Israel 3-0, so good results all round!

2 September - Rollercoaster Ride

Oooh have we got news for you. A lot seems to be happening all at once, some happy and some sad things. Get on board the Allotment Rollercoaster!

Firstly, we dug up the potatoes. Avid readers will recall that they were planted in appalling conditions in small trenches dug directly into the grass, i.e. we did not dig up the soil as such. They have suffered, as have others on the allotment, with blight, and we came to the conclusion that the time had come to see what nature had given us. They are a pleasing pinky shade and by and large in a good state. There were a few mouldy/tiny ones and we put this down to the generally poor conditions and the blight.


They filled a sturdy carrier bag and were proudly shown to various allotment neighbours, including The Nettle Guy (who apparently is called Derek but I prefer Nettle Guy). Our potatoes are snugly stored in the garage in an eerily prescient set of sliding shelves donated by The Neighbours.




The next uplifting thing to happen was the completion of the plot perimeter. Some of you will no doubt have been fretting about the security of the plot, given that we hadn't fixed the corners of the fence nor finished the gate. After due consultation with Pat and Jo, we sorted out the corners (K was allowed to use the staple gun for the first time - woo hoo) and the gate is now operational pending the installation of a bolt (there's a bit of a gap in the middle, ahem). We are proud that there is no other gate like it on the allotment.

It's weird how much of a difference the fence and gate make. OK, we know we had to do it because of the rabbits. We feel less like pioneers and more like tenant farmers.

A note about the weather while we're all philosophical. Weather has been dry and cloudy for quite a few days now. Warm but not hot. No rain so we have watered since we came back (yes readers we actually left the plot for a few days R&R in a campsite - if I don't spend some time indoors soon I shall turn into Tess of the D'Urbevilles).

Other joys are the ever-happy celery and also the peas which are now definitely flowering and podding. Oh how we wish we'd planted more. Next year next year. The two Brussel Sprout plants are looking good especially after some jazzy looking caterpillars got ejected. We remain slightly mystified by the broccoli.

We now come to the sad part of the story. Your favourite and ours, the Pumpking of lurve, has been demolished. Something had made him all soggy and mouldy. Perhaps it was hubris. It's certainly a lesson not to take everything for granted. We are very sorry - though it must be said that there are some nice pumpkingettes coming along. They are small though and probably won't get to any great size. We think we might take a few of the best potatoes to the Garden Society Show next Saturday instead.

And onward we go. We have decided to dig up where the potatoes were completely and use it as a winter growing spot, in rows, not a bed as such, as it is in the area where our rows will be established (we must do a chart of the layout for you and indeed for ourselves). After some consideration, we have now sown 60 Hi Keeper F1 Hybrid (Overwintering Onion) seeds in peat pots for planting out when they have learnt to cope with the microclimate in our "conservatory" - and 30 Flower of Spring cabbage seeds likewise. The onions are ready in June and the cabbage in March-April. Not all these seeds will produce viable plants of course. We'll finalise the preparation of the soil next week, and put some wood round it to protect it from weeds. It is very exciting thinking that there will be things growing over the winter for us to eat afterwards. Just imagine, in the early spring, we will be able to sow things to eat over the winter itself! See what we mean by the Rollercoaster Ride?

23 August 2007 - New post, indeed

About 25 new posts, indeed, all countersunk and wired with our fence mesh. Yes, the main elements of our fence are complete - all that is left is joining the dots in three corners and finalising the gate, thus securing our compound against all comers. Rabbits, in particular.

Completed the final section of the fourth and final trench today, once again experiencing the smooth sloosh of spade entering clay soil and meeting few if any stones. But many worms (thus adding to the number of worms with each stroke of the spade), which is a good indicator of the fertility and vibrancy of our soil, at least at the western end. Trench formation at this end is about four times faster than at the Stony End which relieves us greatly. Note from K: It is like digging fudge and quite enjoyable.

Armed with the new greater awareness of the anatomy of our plot, we are revising our overall planning approach, which now consists of rows (of plants) at the western end, with raised beds in the central area and a light industry sector (shed, compost, seating) at the eastern end.

We are reviewing also what we want to grow and, through the introduction of spreadsheets, when and how. Stay tuned.

New netting structure for the raspberry plants installed. Re-flowing of the black plastic sheeting of doom (intended to kill all beneath it in anticipation of future planting), which had to be shifted a bit to install the fence.

My highlight: the beginnings of an deceptively simple-looking gate. Raw materials courtesy of our (home) neighbours, who had some junk they didn't want. Plan is for saloon-style swinging doors - must obtain piano and player, a tart with a heart of gold and card tables. This is, of course, forward planning for the new categories we want introduced in next year's allotment awards. These categories will include, inter alia, 'Best Saloon-Style Plot Entrance', 'Best Allotment Blog' (obviously) and 'Best Use of Curtain Poles in a Fence'.

Some debate over the title for this blog entry. I liked 'Filling me Softly', others prefered 'Fenced In'. Saving 'Heaven's Gate' for later.

Weather: it rained on and off. But, this being August, for the most part it wasn't bitterly cold. Nobody else on the allotment, save a late arrival of Nettle Guy.

Harvest: Sprouting broccoli things for a stir fry.

19-20 August 2007 - Trench warfare

We are on holiday for a few days so thought we would get on with finishing the Great Wall of China, aka our allotment fence. We did aim to start on Saturday but a late night with The Neighbours (of whom more later) scuppered that. Discipline is all in the allotment game. Well, discipline is alott in the allotment game.

Sunday saw us inspecting the plot after a week's neglect. Strange to say, everything was thriving, especially our friends the weeds. However, amongst the unwanted growth, a small miracle made itself known - the spring onions sown from seed are finally making an appearance. Whether it's too late in the season is too early to say. Needless to say, our Pumpking (the Barry White of pumpkins) is doing supremely well but we think he's had enough exposure recently so we won't show you a picture. The peas and even the carrots are making themselves known, as are the Speedy Leeks.

Other excitements were the discovery of very comfortable caterpillars on one of the broccolis (swiftly dispatched in a non-humane manner), sprouting of the said broccoli with some side shoots that look uncommonly like - sprouting broccoli - and very confident looking sprouts.

We then set about finishing the North Face. It has to be said up front that this part of our boundary is wobbly. No really, it is. It is incredibly hard work, the digging up, laying down the fence so there is enough to curl under and then depositing the soil back in the trench, once the posts have been correctly aligned and the wire fence stretched as well as we can. We got to the end of our boundary, where the neighbours' starts, and decided to wait and confer with them before engaging with any closure of the boundaries. A good afternoon's work and we go home, cheerfully whistling and hoisting our spades over our shoulders, etc.

(Weather note - we haven't said much about the weather recently. It has been sunny and rainy. Not especially hot. No watering of the plot needed during the preceding week. What do you expect - Michael Fish?)

After an early night and lots of sleep, I entice N to the plot with the promise of a Garden Centre Breakfast, as we need to replace the broken shovel (blog passim), and get an "edging tool" like wot our neighbours have, and which we fondly imagine will make the job of doing the other long side fence (the South Face) that much easier. The breakfast was excellent, and we also met one of our allotment neighbours Sue Getley there, who chided us for skiving from the allotment. Oh no, we said, we're going now, to dig for victory.

We arrived at the plot at 12.30 and left at 6.30. The cutting of the trench this time was rather more efficient, as we actually stretched a line of twine between the two end points = straight line for digging. N did the cutting with the "edging tool" and I did the shovelling of loosened material, including some truly ginormous stones and miscellenaous geological deposits of chalk and clay. It was meant to feel easier but truly it felt just as hard as previous trenches, mainly because we started at The Stony Bit, which is actually quite long. N was the Gangmaster and I the Grunt. We stop for an icecream and a chat with Mr Nettle Patch who is truly awe-inspiring for the amount of progress he has made with his god-forsaken patch. Otherwise, the plot is much quieter than the weekends when we are usually there. Until...

we had an impromptu visit from The (Home) Neighbours, with Oscar! This is their first visit (although not Oscar's) and we are very honoured to show them the features of our plots, and of our (allotment) neighbours. They are impressed (we think) with our dedication and initiative, especially in the matter of recycled fenceposts. We are kind, and do not press them to lend a hand. We finish the fence as far as the Gate (or Portal as I prefer to think of it) which is recycled from cupboard doors donated by The Neighbours. Very exciting.

Other joys were finding the original metal pole with the plot number on it (64) and spending 15 minutes looking for the sledgehammer only to find that we had covered it in our enthusiastic excavation of the soil. Boy, did we laugh - that's what passes for wit in the allotment. We also chopped quite a few of the potatoes, as they are clearly "blit" (struck by blight) and did a bit of judicious curtailing of the Love Pumpking's offspring (who were competing for resources with the future winner of the Novice Pumpkin Category). The potatoes will be dug in a couple of weeks. And now we are very tired indeed, and aching in all the right places.

11-12 August 2007 - Half-way up the North Face

We return Saturday morning, to find that no one has finished the fence. The North Face scowls at us, an uneven trench too shallow by far.

Despite this, we begin to fence the first half of the North Face, with some success. You have to sink the mesh below ground and curve it outwards. Apparently someone has conducted psychological experiments with rabbits, and they get very down when faced with the outer curve, then give up and go home. (I have some sympathy.)

Much grunting and groaning in the sun - and spade (shovel) broken through sheer manly exertion - then welcome respite in conversation with our (corner) neighbours, who are also dog-sitting, a 'Westie' named Pippa. Fine company. (A trip to the recycling centre, alas, was unsuccessful in replacing the broken implement.)

Fence is wobbly - ie the should-be-crisp-and-taut upper line is a bit slack and meandering - but we are coming to accept our fallibility (sp?) in all things. Better up than not.

Our pumpkin. It sprawls over at least four sq metres, its hungry leaves soaking up the sun and feeding not only the main fruit (now the size of a large sheep's head - oh, memories of Wood Green butchers) but several dauphin growths.

A fatality among the potatoes leads us to think that blight has struck. Mr Getley and others have suffered the same fate. The one plant is spindly, with no leaves. The other plants seem unaffected, but these things spread. We are advised to trim the top, leave for two weeks, and harvest what there is in terms of taters.

Live fast, die young, leave a tasty tuber.

Blight is common. We had so hoped not to be common.

Elsewhere, peas are thriving (in a restrained, English, way) and have been provided with a growing framework of twiggy sticks upon which to spread their wings. Kim wishes she'd planted more. We are increasingly aware not only of our own ignorance and inadequacies, but, more importantly, of how this awareness can inform future decisions.

Celery, radish and leek seedlings are proceeding in an orderly and enthusiastic (again, in moderation) manner toward their eventual harvets and consumption. Carrots sparse, due to stony soil.

With our neighbours, we contemplate getting a big machine to strip the top layer (and its abundant grass/weeds) to obliterate the palimpset of past efforts and failures (others, not yet, our own). Fresh start appeals; struggle against the odds seems more Quixotic.

Sunday, and various family arrive for lunch. Louis assists with some watering, and enjoys shed door and how it swings. All complimentary about what we've done (free lunch), although Luc somewhat indifferent (brought his own).

Good things: high number of nice dogs met (became acquainted with dog of white van at the corner, who likes a scratch behind the ears).

Bad things: Kim got sunburn (in a restrained way) and later, in our home garden, poisoned herself by accidental contact with weed-killer.

For contemplation: the St Stephens Horticultural Society Annual Show is looming (8 September). We are contemplating what to enter. There's a novice category, fortunately. Our celery is strong, our pumpkin swelling. Yet the most growth has been occuring on our blog. Perhaps we'll campaign for a new multimedia category.

4-5 August 2007 - On the fence

We've got backache. We've been digging. We've got sunburn in the only really hot weekend we are looking likely to have this year.

Up at the plot yesterday, we do our usual inspection of the crops (sounds much more impressive than it actually is as we hope you have gathered through blogs passim). The giant pumpkin is the most expansive and happy looking plant, and we cannot bring ourselves to "pinch out" its flowers. There are three actual pumpkins so far on it. The leek seedlings are coming up nicely, though they look like grass. The peas are happy. Some of the radishes have bolted - and we see how apt the word is because they literally shoot quickly upwards, desperate to flower.

Lots of nice chats with our allotment neighbours. The bloke who has The Plot From Hell opposite us is digging up nettles and old carpet. He tells me that he has another plot on the other side of the allotment and a huge garden. And he works full-time. I feel like a miserable shirker.

The neighbour next to him, a nice girl with a lovely chocolate lab called Leo, tells us that we are doing really well. Her plot is like a lawn, beautifully kept, with small beds of flowers and veg and has an ornamental bird bath. It feels very good to be complimented on our plot as it is easy to feel that we are not really getting anywhere sometimes.

Our new neighbours, Jan and Pat, have put us to shame yet again. They have been at the plot since 9am and left around 4pm. Their fence is nearly finished - but their plot, let it be said, is a lot smaller than ours.

We started doing bits and bobs, mostly fixing the fence in the trench that N had already dug which was a bit tricky. We had doubts as to whether the fencing we bought via the Interweb was big enough but we are now convinced it is. Nice and deep trench. Very pleasingly, the first 2 of our new fenceposts were installed - these are in fact old curtain poles graciously donated by The Neighbours (house). Thanks guys. We breathlessly await the arrival of AN (Australian Nephew) who has decided he really has nothing better to do this weekend, so with the usual bribery, he has agreed to come help with the digging.

He duly arrived and starts digging the first of the long sides (and the most difficult because it is on a slope and vast swathes of vegetation have had to be cut back by yours truly). But not for long though we have evidence that he did some digging. Poor bloke had got a bad back and just couldn't do it. He switched to the other end of the long side but that was much worse as it was the beginning of the Stony Bit.

After the necessary manly fencing chat, N went home to the outside workshop and knocked up a couple more fenceposts from some more donated material from The Neighbours (peace be upon them). In the end, we downed tools and went home to BBQ and possibly the worst movie any of us had seen for a while (Superman Returns).

The next morning, after a leisurely start, N powers off to the plot. AN and I amble up shortly thereafter, me with some more twiggy sticks for the peas, AN with the fenceposts. N has got the bit between his teeth and is truly digging for victory. The trench opens up before us like one of those earthquakes in the Superman movie. Awesome. I even find some Kryptonite, which would have been useful last night.

A night on our sofabed has not fixed AN sufficiently to dig, so he is put to work on weeding and tidying chores. I then pitch in to the digging too, making sure that the trench is two spits' (a spit = the height of the spade) down. At one point we found an old fence post which we will reuse. Here's a picture of it next to two of the new ones (to arrive later).

Oh it sounds so easy to you, gentle reader. It's true that there is a strange satisfaction in feeling the spade bite through earth. But we are sparing you sight of the blisters (gloves are compulsory) and you don't feel the ache in the lower back. We managed between the two of us to dig the long bit pretty much which is 17m long. Not bad for 4 hours solid work. We have a bit to do at the Stony Bit but it is basically ready for the fence. That is going to be a laugh I can tell you. Ooh we say, let's do an hour after work each day.

N tells me the other side (obviously the same length) will be a lot easier because it is level and next to the path. I know now we can do it. And we always could do it, we just didn't want to do it. But the time taken to get to this point has been well used, mostly to learn the lesson that one should always put the fence in first on a new plot. Goddit?

1 August 2007 - Dog blog

Crawl from my deathbed at the behest of The Neighbours, whose dog needs walking.

Oscar (for it is he) and I perambulate up Burydell Lane to the allotment, where Jan & Pat are busy erecting their shed. Some holding of panels ensues, while Oscar supervises.

Much to sniff at in our plot.

Exciting news: Jan & Pat may have excess timber, and we get first dibs.