Harvest time

As I was writing the last post, I realised that I've been blogging for just over a year now, that this time last year, after the flood, our allotment plot was post-apocalyptic, a scene of death and decay, all brown stumps and foul stench.

This year. . . A cool, wet summer has meant that everything has gone, if not bananas, then beans. Borlotti beans, runner beans, french dwarf and climbing french; a cloud of yellow mangetout, four foot tall, obscuring the peas planted inbetween; squashes trailing, tendrilling, fingering their way down rows of potatoes and tomatoes; cucumbers, lettuces, sweet corn, onions, beetroot. . . You name it, we're eating it.

After the devastation of the flood, we decided to dig the whole plot over and make raised beds. It was easier than I'd supposed, having found a supplier of recycled wood who cut planks (well, ceiling joists) to size and delivered them to the site. Now we not only have the luxury of a great crop, but it's looking smart and weeded (mostly). Some things didn't work. My natty construction of a bean arch over the gully between two beds means that many of the beans are now out of reach, given that the gully has been taken over by a land-grabbing squash.

Still, that's why gardeners live long, because there is always an improvement to make for the next season. One of the last of our olduns, Harry, was out tending his plot last week. He left on the dot of 5.15, as always, and went home for his tea. After finishing his tea, he died. What a way to go! Well done, Harry. I hope there's space for cultivation in the Elysian Fields.