So – we were at the serious thinking stage..
Not my strong point.
Don’t get me wrong, I do think. A lot. Possibly too much?
But it is not reasoned, or logical, and it rarely reaches a sensible conclusion.
My brain is full of cobwebs and fear….
….with a core of unrealistic hope that if I concentrate hard enough and keep going things will feel ‘better’ in some way.
We can never know , of course, if things will feel better or worse. We can only aim for different….
With allotments, you are sent a grainy, black and white map of the site with your offered plot outlined. Like a treasure map! X marks the spot.
Of course , the first thing to do is to go and have a look.
The allotments were hard to find. Hmm, a tricky start but useful for future privacy. The offered half plot was right in the centre of the site, opposite the ‘Dig It’ community group.
These two facts nearly stopped me in my tracks.
My instinct was/is to hide away, not interact with a bunch of strangers.
Eeek! One of the buried plots in the corner, over-run with hedges where I could disappear – that was for me…
I gave myself a good talking to. It might be nice to meet new people. ‘Good for me’ to interact with other gardeners. And it is South facing, open… it would be lovely and sunny.
Apart from that, it was of course weedy and neglected. But not unmanageably so. I viewed the plot in January, with the promise of spring around the corner – and an icy, howling wind roaring across the exposed, hill top site.
It was the ‘bottom half’ of a plot – so no shed or storage. ( the ‘top half’ had two sheds and a lean-to tucked into the hedge, and I already had ‘shed envy’ before even committing to a plot..!). But there was room to park a car. And it was affordable.
I concentrated very hard.
I wasn’t ready for a plot yet.
I look after 23 gardens for other people.
I have almost half an acre of garden with my house.
( It is a severely neglected ‘wild life haven’ with nettles taller than me.)
I have two large dogs to walk, twice a day.
In short, if it is daylight, I am already outside. And sometimes if it is dark too, with a head torch.
And I am tired.
The yearning for a little bit of space to call ‘my own’ – the level pegging, that all are equal here. The same area of soil, for the same money, with the same rules for all.
The challenge of new soil / different growing conditions.
The neatness of ‘little!’ rectangular plots – a boundary to the wilderness.
Fellow gardeners to commiserate with / contrast and compare and ask advice and moan about the weather with…
All my own sensible advice faded to a whisper.
The cathartic rhythm of digging, the innate satisfaction of clearing land to grow food, the flicker in the brain at learning something new….
The neighbouring plots, ordered, lined out, filled with cabbages and sprouts
You already know that we said ‘yes’.
Try it for a year? ( Like the blogging, which came later!)
We paid our insurance at the tourist information centre (?) £5.00
We paid our yearly rent at the council office. £25.00
We were good to go.
Time to oil up that fork…