Normally I would not worry about going away and leaving the
allotment for a week or even two, but this year has been different, and we
haven’t been away since February and that seems an age ago. During that time
Lottie and I have been at the allotments most days and it’s looking good and
been a sanctuary for all in these difficult times.
So now Annie and I are off for two weeks and Lottie is off
to her doggie hotel. I think she knows as she is not letting me out of her
sight. She too has grown accustomed to going to the plot every day and having
us both around all the time. With dogs it is all about routine.
So what will happen? Will the plot suddenly become bare and
unloved? Will Lottie be lonely? Will the birds, squirrels and foxes plunder all
the food?
The site is very lucky in having a good group of allotment volunteers.
Maite is one of these diamonds who just loves gardening and helping out. She is
on our waiting list but like many just can’t wait so she often helps out at the
Canary Wharf Crossrail allotment and rooftop gardens and has also been looking
after our Site Manager’s plot while he has been in lockdown. Now she is going
to take care of my plot while we are away.
My neighbour, who I wrote about a few days ago, will be back
next week but I don’t want to burden her with two plots as she gets back from
16 weeks of lockdown so I’ve asked Maeite to water mine but keep an eye on both
plots. It’s back breaking work watering two plots that are full of produce and I
often give up counting the number of watering cans used and just turn into ‘robowaterer’.
‘Why are you arranging for her to have your key?’ asks
Lottie as she watches Maite walk away down the allotment path.
‘She is doing something for me next week.’ I reply quickly
looking the other way.
‘Why were you showing her what to water?’ Lottie gives me
one of those doleful looks, ‘You’re not leaving me are you?’
‘Just going on holiday’ I reply.
I quickly move over to the beans and pretend to inspect them
noting the blackfly are at last no longer taking over but that the snails are
now heaving their houses up the stems to take over and experience skyscraper
life. I pick one big one off and send it flying across to the disused bank
area. I wonder if he will make a soft landing in the brambles and join the
little estate I have rehoused there?
Glancing at Lottie she still has that unfinished conversation
look on her face but is now flopping down on her cushions for a nap.
It’s strange to go away just as everything is coming into
its own. But that’s life, and it is good to be able to let Maite have whatever
is ready to pick for her kind labour.
I look around the plot and wonder, should I have sown those
lettuce and beetroot seeds and will she remember to water them? Will she remember
to water the vines on the bank and Cape gooseberries on the deck? Will I have
any tomatoes or French beans left to harvest? Do Spanish water as much as we do?
I remember a few years ago my daughter looked after the plot
while we were away. The sweet corn looked great and nearly ready when we went
away and when we returned it had all been picked.
‘What happened to the sweet corn?’ I asked.
‘Had to pick it before it went past it sell by,’ came the
response.
I said, ‘Any left?’
‘No but it tasted really good. You should grow more next
year.’
I said, ‘I’ll have to, but sow later I think’.
You have to let those who care for your plot have some
reward. It would cost a bomb to pay someone and they would still want the
pickings.
Well it’s off to sea, sun and friends and see you all again
later in August.
