Do you ever get the feeling you’ve talked that bit too much about something? My passion for getting an allotment has become such an obsession that I really need to limit the number of times I mention it. Witness to my obsession is how my nearest and dearest put up with it. The reading matter above is just part of the precious haul chosen for me as Christmas gifts and for my recent birthday. Even my cards almost all displayed a horticultural theme. My relatives are probably deeply worried what I’ll be like when I actually get an allotment, never mind just dreaming about it as I do now.
I’m one step closer. After several unanswered emails, I decided to pay the ‘green spaces’ department of Bath council a personal call. Face-to-face they were very helpful and let me know I’m now at the very top of the waiting list. (Not bad as I started at 125th two years ago.) Surpressing a very giddy, smiley feeling I managed to stay composed enough to ask how long it might be before I would be offered a plot. One to two months came the reply.
I can feel the growing season slipping away. I know, I’ve studied all the volumes above with their charts and planting plans. I’m staying calm and thinking about shed building and soil quality. So what if my first crop has to be sprouts and not salads? I’ll just have to spend one more spring gardening on the bathroom floor and swooning over Alicia Paulson’s riveting posts about planting up her own little patch of heaven.
Huge thanks to all those who humour me with such patience. To the givers of beautiful books, garden tokens and a particularly handsome stainless steel garden fork, I promise to bring you the cream of my future crops.