Week 2 – Problems With Plums

So we failed to do any more last Sunday, as we woke up aching, very sunburnt, and in my case, hungover. Bit nervous heading down there this morning – would the weeds have regrouped? The ants staged a coup and taken the plot for their own? The compost heap have broken free from its plastic bags and liberally distributed itself around the place? The owner of the plot next to ours have returned and discovered we’d dumped our weeds on it? Thankfully all was well, and the ants seem to have taken exception to our digging around and buggered off. Hurrah.

Some of the weeds had grown back, so I set to digging them up again while Kevin started on the back area, with the nightmare high grass, fruit trees, various kitchen appliances and bags of rubbish/body parts. Once the weeds had been dug and chucked on the compost heap, I went round to see how Kevin was getting on. He had removed his shirt (hottest day of the year, today) and was sat under the plum tree, looking at the football scores on his phone. Good effort. Prompted by the laziness, I began inspecting the plum tree for brown rot (or whatever its called). Turned out there were a few sufferers to remove, as well as some rotting and weak looking ones – the tree is hugely overloaded and can’t ever have been pruned, so I trimmed back as much as I dared so the remaining plums stood a chance. Unfortunately, while doing so, I noticed another plant winding itself round the tree, with pretty white flowers. We have:

The Dreaded Bindweed

Even as non-gardeners we knew this was Bad News. Pulled a lot of down off the tree, but there is a lot more to go. Having consulted the internet we’ve decided against using weedkiller on the plot we want to grow in, but we were planning on using it in the back area already, so fingers crossed that’ll do the trick.

I have to confess to feeling a little despondent today. I decided to water the compost pile (read it somewhere) so trekked back to the car to get the watering can. I passed what felt like an endless line of beautifully tended plots, where the owners just turned up, did a little weeding and then headed off home with bags full of fresh fruit and veg. One elderly gentleman was sat simply admiring his plot, enjoying the afternoon sunshine while we sweated next door. On arriving at the car, I realised I had left the keys with Kevin. Walked all the way back to get the keys, back to the car, got the watering can, walked back to the plot, watered the compost heap, threw the watering can on the floor and wailed “itstoomuchanditshotanditsnevergoingtoworkandwe’llneverclearitandit’sallawfulwhymustlifebesohaaaaarrrrdd?”

We decided to call it a day. It’ll be better tomorrow.

First things first – Day One

Today was our first day on the allotment. We were pleasantly surprised to get an allotment within about a month of applying, as we’d read reports that people in Camden were waiting 40 years for one. This is probably because Camden is a trendy part of London. We’re just in a dodgy part of London.

Last time we saw the plot, it was suffering from a British summer and completely waterlogged. Today, thankfully, it was a bit less lake-like, but just as covered in weeds. The main bit of it didn’t look too bad (hollow laughing) but there is a section at the back that is shoulder deep grass and rusty kitchen appliances. There’s also two large, mysterious bags of what we hope is rubbish and not e.g. dismembered body parts. On closer inspection of the trees in this section it turns out we’ve inherited a fully working (probably not the right term) plum tree and apple tree. I decided to crack on with our new self sufficient lifestyle and started eating an apple. Kevin was revolted. “We don’t know where it’s been!” he wailed, as I chased him across the allotment, trying to feed it to him. “We don’t know anything about the previous owner! He could have… could have… peed on it!”. He did eventually concede to a small bite, but I’m not sure he’s fully on board with the whole au naturel fruit thing.

So we started pulling up the weeds in the main bit and digging and turning over the soil. I had read somewhere that we shouldn’t compost weeds, so we agreed to have one composting pile and another pile for Weeds Only. This would have worked well if either of us knew the difference between a weed and things that aren’t weeds. In the end half of what we pulled up went into the compost pile and half of what we pulled up went into next doors allotment because it looks like it hasn’t been tended in years and it was closer than the compost pile.

It was a lot harder than we expected. I think we both rocked up this morning expecting to have the whole thing cleared in a couple of hours so we could bugger off to the pub. After three hours hard labour, I threw down my gardening gloves and demanded to know who’s stupid idea this was anyway. “It depends” responded Kevin. “Now, it’s your stupid idea. Next summer when we’ve got loads of fruit and veg, it’s my brilliant idea. Like how the cat is my cat when she’s being cute and your cat when she’s being sick on the bed”. Right.

We gave up at about half three, knackered and covered in stinging nettle rash. However, we have made a noticable difference to at least half the plot. Tomorrow we are going back to cover everything in weedkiller and whatever kills ants.

There’s a LOT of ants.

Hello

Our friends are all spending their weekends with their kids or out clubbing. Or both. We aren’t old enough for kids and last time we went clubbing we ended up sitting in the corner talking about spring form bake tins.

So we got an allotment to keep us amused. This blog is being created to try and force us to stick at it.

We are Kevin & Claire.