near and dear....

A friend of mine who blogs at http://www.littlebrowndog-littlebrowndog.blogspot.com/ has, almost single-handedly, organised and produced a book about the 200 year old allotments in our village. Added to this she has been a bit of a star by organising BBC's Gardener's Question Time to visit our nearest town, Malmesbury. She is, quite simply, a marvel.

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I met her a few years ago now and although she doesn't know it, as I probably wouldn't be quite so gushy to say it, she has been a bit of an inspiration to me. She is a writer and has written for all sorts of magazines - something I've always wanted to do. She is interminably positive and helpful and constructive - something I've always wanted to be!

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I won't go on too much as I really don't want to go all SWF on anyone but I just wanted to say "well done!"

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As an aside, I have an allotment on the 200 year old allotment site. It's right by my kitchen window. One of the reasons we came here 7 years ago was because there was an allotment next door. This allotment is the biggest manifestation of the rule

'be careful what you wish for'.

I am a terrible allotmenter.

I can just about manage to grow dahlias, courgettes, sage and rosemary and the odd onion - on a good year.

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I share the allotment with my neighbour and, I'm sure she won't mind me saying this, although we both love the idea of an allotment, sometimes (or rather, most of the time) it's not right at the top of the list of either of our priorities. This time of year is just about OK as we have discovered the instant, although slightly brutal, black-plastic-covered-allotment-look. It's a bit eighties, a bit recessionista, a bit Debbie Harry but for vegetable patches. I've grown to love it - no-one else's allotment has quite such a look.

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Despite the plastic-fetish, I do like the allotment to look pretty and tidy. I like to grow flowers and salads, anything that grows above ground. I like to sow and plant out and I don't even mind weeding but I really don't like proper digging and muck. It's all a bit Monty Python and serf-like me.

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However, now I have a keen and redundant husband, I may have the solution. He is unlikely to know which is weed, which is plant in the garden but on the allotment that does not matter. Everything save three blackcurrant bushes, some rhubarb and a couple of wizened gooseberry bushes is, guess what, weed! He can dig and edge and tidy up till the chickens come home (he's supposed to be mending the chicken run too). I have always resisted being the sort of wife who writes out lists for husbands but the temptation this year is too much. I'm planning a spreadsheet - he'll like that. He gets jobs and I get more produce for less effort. Marvellous.

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