Lovage rampant

Look at this. It's over 6 feet high and bearing a worrying resemblance to a triffid



I'm sadly disappointed by the plum tree though; and not for the first time. In fact the history of this plum tree is one of disappointment in four years out of five. It's only because it redeemed itself last year that it didn't find itself uprooted with extreme prejudice. But this year it's back to it's old habits; there were lots of little plums set but most of them have dropped off. These are a few of the survivors. No plum jam this year.


On a happier note the sweet peas have started flowering although they're a bit runty.



I think the whole plot is suffering from a lack of manure. Autumn job there, methinks.

Some things you only learn too late

Strimming nettles while wearing shorts is not a good idea.

My legs have enough hives to start an apiary.

The mysterious case of the levitating strawberry

When we looked out this morning there was a strawberry neatly perched on top of the fence, a good six feet off the ground.


How? Why? Who?

I am growing strawberries, in fact we had the first three last night, and very tasty they were too. Close examination of the fenceberry shows what look like rodent teeth marks.


Squirrel, methinks. But why didn't he eat it all? Why leave it neatly perched six feet off the ground?

Who knows what goes on in the mind of a squirrel but I've got a message for this one:

Hop it, Tufty; those are my strawberries

It was warmer than this in Kefalonia

Sunday afternoon - 34C, blue sky, sunshine, souvlaki, Mythos. Yep, the Wilburys were in Kefalonia

Sunday evening - 13C, grey sky, lashing with rain, curry, Carlsberg. Yep, back in Britain.

We'd never been to Kefalonia before and expected it to be a bit like Crete, which we go to a lot. And funnily enough it was! Well, there's a surprise. But without the goats. We love goats, ideally chargrilled with a nice Greek salad, but although we saw plenty of goat poo we saw virtually no goats. Lots of bouganvillea though.


Interesting botanical fact about Bougainvillea - the flower 'petals' aren't petals at all but bracts. It's named after Louis Antoine de Bouganville (1729 - 1811).

He wrote after one battle "The very air we breathe is contagious of insensibility and hardness". It felt a bit like that as we landed in Manchester.

Early starts

I thought yesterday was an early start; I was on the allotment by 8.00

Today I was there before 7.00 !! Thought I'd capitalise on the overnight shower and give everywhere a good soaking before there was any competition for the water pressure.

I could save travelling time and sleep there?

Wilma Wilbury says I may as well sleep there anyway, the amount of time I spend there. Oops.

Beans ahoy

They're in. Later than I'd like but they're in. Still no joy with the Climbing French. I fear I might have to buy some (the shame, the shame).

But the nursery bed is looking good (pretentious? Moi?). Look at these leeks (strictly, leeklets!)


Later-in-the-year's Blackberries are looking good too.

And finally, every allotment should have a thing of beauty. That role is normally filled by the ever-lovely Wilma Wilbury but today she is usurped by a dog rose: