Another day, another trip to the allotment - or that should be another day and another two trips to the allotment. I’ve done the double dipping thing on consecutive days.
The reason for all of this back-and-forth activity is that I’ve got a brand new set of wheels and I’m going to bloody use them. I’ve also got two wormeries that need transporting from the garden over to the patch.
The poor old worms started out life in Essex when they were pushed through my letterbox. They didn’t stay here long, maybe a day or so, before I transported them down to South London for a la-di-da Sunny Stockwell lifestyle.
They thrived back in Transpontonia for over a decade, and yep I’m not as naive to know that the original letterbox Essex worms are unlikely to be the ones that are still around. Nature is rather good like that.
After living it up in SW8 they then headed back to the Bloody Estuary Wilds. Good luck with that one, as they say. Now they find themselves strung out on the allotment.
Saturday morning at the allotment was a little more lively. There was an unforgiving heat already starting to build up.
The tomatoes however still need to get something of a shifty on. We’re not entirely sure if the yellow ones are ripe or not. I had an interesting chat with some old fella who was growing blue tomatoes. I never knew such a thing existed, tomato, tomatoe, etc.
Across the field preparations were well underway at the cricket club for President’s Day. This is the most prestigious day of the year in the local cricketing calendar. It involves getting dressed up in rather stuffy clothes. I tend to stay away.
The two umpires look most resplendent as they strolled out to the middle in their traditional white shirts and black trousers with boater hats. This was a bit of a different look to the shorts and vest from the fagging umpire we normally see for a Sunday social.
I left the worms to do their business. Who knows, I can’t rule out them having a trip back to south London at some stage in the medium or long-term.
To be continued…
