My ambitious plans for a fruit cage have yet to past the planning stage. I've got the area laid out, even got the plants in there and growing (after a fashion), but I can't find the time to buy or scrounge the wood and netting to get it done. So it won't happen this summer.
Nevertheless the fruit bushes are doing their best without me... here's one of the redcurrant bushes with its first set of fruit (click to enlarge). Got whitecurrant and raspberries too, although the latter are struggling a bit for some reason. Have to wait a while for the type of crop that takes me back to when I used to go raspberry picking in my school holidays near Blairgowrie in Perthshire. Beat most of my holiday jobs hands down, especially the gutting job in a chicken factory! And guess what was on the lunchtime menu.
Got fed up with strawberries... picking developed into a race against the woodlice, who also appear to love strawberries. So they're now outside fending for themselves, much loved by the chickens who should also put paid to the woodlice. Must remember next year to use shop bought compost, since my own was also chez woodlice.
Planted out my peas and beans as well as more lettuce. Arms getting longer by the day as I haul watering cans back and forth from the trough. Started to use the wheelbarrow so I can move three watercans at a time.
Took a step nearer to confirming my status as the allotment equivalent of the village idiot early yesterday morning. Spied a cat along the path and went into my usual feline routine of making lots of noise whilst simultaneously jumping up and down. Has worked at home, so well that all the neighbourhood cats (and I suspect some of their owners) give me and my garden a wide berth. This specimen appeared one of the uninitiated since it turned back to continue its meander. Not to be outdone I silently sprinted towards the invader until it noticed my approach, not surprisingly then giving the required reaction to my renewed version of the Indian rain dance by disappearing pronto. It was at this point I noticed a fellow allotmenteeress by the water trough looking at me with absolute astonishment. Slunk back to my plot trying to look as normal as possible. I know lots of people love cats, but I don't... they kill birds and poo in your garden, all in exchange for an odd purr. Doesn't seem a bargain to me.
Later I took Connor up to the allotment with me. He had another session of building a house to sleep in. To listen to what he thinks about his mum's chocolate fountain click here, or to hear what he thinks about chicken letters and words click here.
Bit of a quiet day today, having had my last of three chemotherapy sessions in this phase of treatment this morning... so lots of dashing to the loo every five minutes for the next few hours. When I've finished this posting I'm going to relax in the warm glow of knowledge that I again hold all three competition cups. Think I'm becoming the Peter Pan equivalent of squash, tennis and darts/pool... it must be so since my rate of decline will slow at some point, finally when I can no longer hold up the racquet/cue/dart. Meanwhile my sons/in law are on the downward trend towards middle age where the rate of decline is much faster.
Next posting will be a bit delayed since Linda and I are off to Scone on Friday for my parents' sixtieth wedding anniversary the following day. Wont be back 'til Tuesday.
More photos from my plot below. Thanks for reading my blog. John
 | Reorganised greenhouse, with tomatoes, cucumbers, squash and pumpkins given space. (Click to enlarge) |
 | The figs are doing really well this year. |
 | Foxglove. |
 | Poppy |
 | Great scabiosa |
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