‘Would you like Coffee on the Allotments?'

‘Pfff.’

‘What’s that noise?’ asks Lottie sitting up and alert after her little nap on the allotment bench.

‘What noise?’ I reply.

‘Pfff.’

‘That noise. Sounds like someone spitting out something they don’t like, or a cat with a fur ball.’ Lottie says staring over towards the back of the plot.

‘Pfff.’

‘There it is again!’

I get up off my kneeling pad and stand and stretch. One must stretch after being on one’s hands and knees with a trusted trowel weeding between the rows of lettuce and rocket. I never did enjoy hoeing and rather selectively eject the weeds from the plot.

Lottie has now decided that she has my attention and I will investigate for her. She drops back down onto her pillows and day bed on the bench satisfied that she has performed her warden duties. It’s hard being a faithful whippet at the allotments, as it involves disturbing one’s sleep and being ever alert to keeping strange and unwanted guests off the plots, and that is mainly Sidney Squirrel and that moggy cat with no name. She stretches as all whippets do, closes her eyes and curls up and goes back to her nap.

‘Thanks,’ I mumble to myself as I walk over to the back of the plot. There between the compost bins is our good friend Robin. He is clearly unhappy and hops up to the top of the open bin and stares down into the abyss.

‘I am very grateful you left the lid off after topping it up but...’ The look in his eyes clearly indicates something in there is not to his taste.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, adopting my caring voice. I was thinking he probably didn’t like the orange peelings, or maybe the cabbage leaves were….

‘Do I look like a café bird?’ he asks puffing up his red breast to make the point.

‘Do you look…’ I could hardly get my sentence out before he burst into a tirade about coffee, its foul tastes, and why I wanted to spoil his fine dining with the stuff.

‘Sorry, we got three tons of coffee grounds from Canary Wharf and I like to sprinkle some and mix it into the compost to help break it down,’ I responded.

‘Even the slugs don’t like it!’ he exclaimed.

‘That’s the point’ I said.

‘Apparently cat’s don’t like it either’ I offered, wondering what his reaction would be to it being a deterrent to his nemesis the moggy from the farm.

He stood thinking with his head cocked to one side. It’s a thoughtful look he has before he finally offers ‘Well it has to have some good points but Lottie is the best cat deterrent you have here.’

Lottie looks up at the mention of her name. Dog’s hearing is very good, and you don’t see any with hearing aids now do you? She gets off the bench, shakes herself and goes to now have a nap under the bench. She does this sometimes when she gets too hot on top, but sometimes just for a change.  

Robin and I return our attention to the coffee grounds.

‘You’ll be sprinkling all over the plot next,’ with a questioning look which begged a negative response.

‘Yes, I was going to…’

‘Do you want me as a friend and fellow labourer, or not?’ Robin asked now, clearly demanding a coffee ground ceasefire.

‘I can’t put it near the seedlings as it can kill them off.’ Coffee grounds contain allelopathic properties which attack young seedlings vying for space. You could argue that could help suppress weed seedlings, but Ii doubt that Robin will accept that as a positive.

‘Surprise, surprise, someone’s has got the message,’ Robin casually stated hopping down to the floor to wipe his beak clean and take a sip on water from a bowl I leave for the birds.

I was going to tell him about the Civet and how he makes the most expensive coffee in the world but thought as he would never see one around here it would be a wasted story. Also it might upset his sensitive feelings if he knew exactly how the process of making the coffee involved collecting the Civet’s poo.

‘I tell you what. I will only put it around the fruit in the fruit cage for now and maybe dig some in in autumn before I put the plot to bed.’ I thought this was a reasonable compromise and looked at him for approval. I don’t have blueberries and high acid loving plants so I don’t need to give plants a caffeine boost.

‘We’ll see. I am not bothered about the fruit cage as it is netted to keep out that squadron of pigeons and frankly the fruit is a bit tart for me.’ He was certainly more relaxed now and hopping around searching for some fresh food.

‘Mind you keep to that, though. I don’t want my dinner spoiled’ he said looking over his shoulder. 

‘Otherwise you’ll be looking for a new plot-mate.’

He flies over to where I had been weeding to examine the turned soil for some decaffeinated food.

Well, it looks like there will be no espresso on the plot this year.

I wonder what he thinks to peppermint tea leaves?    

    

What Does A Path Tell You About the Plot?

Allotment paths are the boundaries between plots. You can’t grow anything on them, but you have to maintain them.

On induction, the Site Manager Brian tells you, ‘The path to the left of the plot is yours and you must keep it clear and maintained at all times.’

You look at something that resembles a small dyke or a road with a very heavy camber. It has a good foot of grass and weeds growing all over it. Obviously, it was not kept ‘clear and maintained’ by the last tenant. But you nod, agree, and turn your attention to the plot. Your thoughts turn to what you are going to grow and the plot layout you are going to adopt. The path is not something that will be addressed as a priority or occupy your thinking today.

The site Manger looks at his notes of things he must cover. Paths, tick, we move on.

Our plot paths between plots  are a minimum of 18 inches wide but can be some 60-foot-long and can come in a variety of different material.

The lucky ones inherit a flat and well laid paved path with solid edging. The unlucky ones can inherit something resembling an overgrown jungle with no clear edging and clearly demanding some hard work. 

When you finally start on the plot you soon realise the decision on what to do with the plot has to be taken on. What options do you have?

There is grass which obviously will need constant attention, weeding and edging. You don’t want Wimbledon but you must have something practicable. The questions come thick and fast. How do you cut it? Do you have to pick up a cheap mower? Do you buy a powerless strimmer and run the danger of spreading clipping all over your new neighbour’s plot? Do you get down on your knees and cut it with some cheap clippers? Some would say that the only good thing a grass path gives you is clippings for the compost bin.

There are paving slabs which if laid properly are low maintenance and maybe only need a weeding between the slabs each season. However, if not laid properly they can become an obstacle course and a nightmare. Mind you, they do offer our friendly slugs and snails a quick and easy entry and exit route between plots.

There is then the natural look of bark chippings. First you must lay a lining and construct a gravel board edge. If you don’t, then those chippings will go everywhere. Bark chippings may look attractive but can soon weed up. Chippings will also need replacing as they break down. You will find that new chippings are required annually. An alternative is gravel chippings which are also somewhat rustic. Both chippings, especially gravel, deter the slugs and if placed on top of lining can provide a good weed-supressed path. However, the chippings can soon get trodden into the plot, or the plot soil trodden into them.

My preference is artificial grass laid over a lining. It may appear expensive and getting off cut strips harder than you imagine, but it does look good, is practical and is low maintenance. The only thing you need is lots of pegs to ensure it remains in place and does not decide to try to fly off in the first high wind. Best still, slugs do not seem to like sliding over artificial grass, but unfortunately foxes love to poo on it.

On my induction I remember asking Brian our Site Manager, ‘What about carpet? My daughter had carpet paths on her allotment and there is always a carpet in some skip.’

Brian sways a little, draws a sharp and long intake of breath and as if measuring out each word said, ‘No carpets allowed, they are dangerous and not permitted.’

‘But..’ I was about to say it didn’t say anything in the rules but found Brian’s stare from his eyes enough to realise carpets were not to be used or discussed. On reflection I did understand his point. What may look a very luxurious path when first laid can soon became a mudslide and slippery hell. It is a pity I had my eyes on some lovely deep blue twist pile in a local skip.

Then comes the question of internal paths.

Some like a fixed layout with well-defined sections, each bordered by a path. Others like myself have a more flexible plot layout which changes most years and needs more flexible paths. So I use scaffold planks which double up in winter to holding down the tarpaulin that covers most of the plot. Yes they only last a few years but are cheap and easy to come by.

I have acquired some long strips of artificial grass off cuts. These make great internal paths and I have gone one better and attached the artificial grass to some of the planks and now have some very posh internal paths. A couple of paths are artificial grass on top of some lining. If they get dirty I just wash them with a can of water and they look as good as new. It does look nice and I bet some folk think I mow it once a week!

Its Not a Clew of Worms its Bindweed?

‘Can you hear that noise?’ my little feathered Robin asks with his head tilted as he listens to the soil beneath him.

‘What noise?’ I ask, knowing full well it’s a dumb question and I will only now be lectured on the remarkable hearing and sensory perceptions of birds such as Robins.

‘I don’t know what you would do without us,’ he proudly boasts, puffing up his chest to show off his red plumage.

‘Get a lot work done on the plot,’ I reply in jest.

‘Listen, there it is again’ he says cocking his head to the left. ‘It’s drowning out the worm noises and disturbing my digging.’

‘What are you on about?’ I ask, completely at a loss as to what my little friend is trying to tell me.

‘They’re digging those bloody tunnels again and they can shift earth faster than a clew of worms.’

‘A clew of worms?’

‘Didn’t they teach you nowt at that school up North?’ he asks accentuating his take on a northern accent. ‘You can call it a bed, or bunch, but I like clew.’

Robin then in one sharp stab jabs the soil and retrieves a piece of bindweed, white and stringy and faintly resembling a very large worm.

‘I told you that you have to dig this stuff out! It’s disturbing my foraging and I bet the worms don’t like it either.’ Robin says spitting the offensive string of bindweed to the ground. ‘It’s like spaghetti junction down there. Over by the path it’s surfacing!’ he proclaims pointing with his little wing to the corner of the plot where the path and bushes meet.

I get up off my bench and go the shed. Moments later I return with my fork. Robin has flown off probably thinking I was ignoring him and in search of some easier pickings.   

I set about digging over the area he had been picking over. I quickly expose what could be best described as a bowl of spaghetti. I realise this isn’t going to be a five-minute challenge, but more likely a full half hour one and retreat to get my waste bucket so I can collect this exposed motorway from hell.

Bindweed can be dealt with by chemicals. These travel back through the roots and kill the plant, but I am wary of spraying other plants and it has to be ideally done as they surface and then taken in through their leaves. You can treat the area to a good dose of diluted vinegar or Epsom Salts and even boiling water also does the trick. Better still, why not mix them all together? But again, all these mixes may not help all the others who occupy the soil.

When I first got my plot, or should I say overgrown wasteland, I spotted the tentacles and unmistakable leaves of this old foe.

‘We can rotovate the soil over once the top is cleared,’ was the offer made by the Site Manager who obvious was keen to use his rotovator on anything he could.

‘No, it’s fine I can dig it all out,’ I replied.

The thought of the roots being chopped into hundreds of individual bindweed plants filled me with horror. Bindweed has this defence mechanism inherent within all bad weeds which are deep rooted or invasively spread their roots - they don’t want to come out easily. As soon as you give bindweed a tug it snaps, says goodbye to the piece left behind, and asks it to carry on the fight and keep tunnelling.

The only way to have any chance is to dig it out, and keep digging it out, and keep digging it out.

Does bindweed offer us anything? Not really, as its seeds are toxic and alkaloids are present throughout the plant.

Bindweed is one allotment challenge faced by many plot holders. Like the Forth Road Bridge it needs constant attention and maintenance. Turn your back for a few weeks and it spreads its roots and once it surfaces it binds itself to anything and everything vertical in its sprint and quest to reach the sky. The basic difference between it and Japanese Knotweed is that it must be supported in its upward quest. If left for a season it can create a blanket over whatever it found to climb and unravelling it often becomes impossible. It does have attractive white bell-shaped flowers but these merely hide the sinister weaving tentacles behind. It is said that its flowers can be made into a cold tea and when drunk it can act as a laxative, well that is somewhat appropriate!

‘Lovely climbing flower over there,’ say the novice gardener.

‘That’s bindweed!’ comes the voice of gardening experience.

Finally, there is the problem of disposing of the dug-up bowl of spaghetti. There are many alternatives with some advocating burning, but that’s not altogether acceptable today. Some advocate bagging it for green waste, but that’s hoping that the refuse collectors can treat it. Some bag it and then apply the chemical killers. However, the one thing is certain, it doesn’t go on the compost heap.  

  

Mind you, we gardeners do like a good challenge.