First day at the allotment

I don't know about you but after a little while the magic of Christmas has worn off and I'm trying hard not to throttle my family. This is when I need to get to the allotment. It's not just little old men in wooly jumpers and caps hiding in sheds. After a day of torrential rain on New Years Day I woke up to a gorgeous clear day today. Our four year old was given a couple of computer games for Christmas and has been obsessed with them. It took all sorts of bribes and threats to prise him away from the screen. He was the grumpiest boy in Britain as we got our layers and wellies on. Ten minutes outside, with a big smile on his face he announced, "I feel happy running in the sun".

I passed "A" who has the plot next to me on the way in. She said she'd overdone it; strained her back clearing out her compost heap. She mentioned the email the site secretary had sent out before Christmas. Sixteen pages of plans the council wants to implement. I haven't had time to read it yet.
"We're not going to be allowed to use hoses"
"Really?! There's no way we can water our plots with watering cans, that's how to do your back in". 
"I think that's what it said. I need to read it again".
I feel my blood boiling every time I hear about the council's plans for the allotments.

We'd been on the plot five minutes when I lost my temper with my boy who went stomping over my transplanted strawberries after I asked him not to.  My husband went back home to get a football. While he was gone my boy picked up the camera. Lately this has been a great way to keep him occupied. He took the photo of Colin the Crow and our dog.

I got to work pruning the brambles, or blackberries. They are a hybrid variety planted by the woman who owned the plot before me. We get huge, juicy fruits. It's a bit of a shambolic hedge but does work really well as a boundary, spreading in tangled loops up the side of the allotment. I cut the fruited branches back to the main stems, cut out all the dead wood and trimmed back the rest to a bud, thinking about which direction the bud would grow in. My camera battery ran out before I could take more detailed photos. It's not the conventional way to grow blackberries but I don't care, it works for me.

My husband came and took my son off to the playground. We're so lucky having it right next to the allotments.  It took quite a long time to cut back the brambles and was really hard work. I always end up with my hat, my hair, my arm caught in the vicious thorns and I have to carefully untangle myself, to pull away quickly could be lethal. I was thinking about the person who had helped themselves to my brambles in the summer. "A" had seen him but didn't know who he was. She thought I must have told someone they could help themselves. "No I didn't!" I told her. "If you see him again chase him off". I was a little irritated at the time. I often give things away but it's not nice to help yourself to someone else's crop without asking. My plot looks quite wild and brambles grow in the wild but that doesn't mean they're free. If anyone wants to steal my brambles they can bloody well prune them for me.

I sowed some oriental leaves under fleece in autumn and some of it has come up. I can't remember what it's called and couldn't read the lolly stick. I went home with a couple of beetroots, some brussels sprouts and my first proper harvest of purple sprouting broccoli. It was just starting to flower, I think I got there just in time. Tasted so delicious. Sometimes I get just one or two meals out of the small amount of veg I grow. It's worth it! My brussels were pretty disappointing but when I discovered a few perfectly formed ones I was delighted. There's nothing like growing, harvesting and cooking your own.