grumpyf1

I have a dream. A dream where the green fingered come together to make something beautiful (assuming the slugs don’t get it first). There may only be 16 plots in our humble village allotment site, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be a thing of loveliness, does it? An oasis of tranquillity, carefully tilled soil, green shoots of promise, and the occasional cheery Robin perched on a frosty spade handle for effect. So keen are the keepers of the sacred scrolls that even sheds are not allowed to blight this patch of serene calmness, split only by the occasional shriek of Mrs G putting her hand on a Slow Worm in the long grass. True, the bountiful fruitfulness, and plentiful... er... vegetableiness does attract some local deer who wander in from time to time, no doubt impressed by the neatness and the fact that some kindly humans have generously provided them with a neatly arranged salad bar. In an attempt to politely deter them from scoffing the carefully grown and tended produc...