Sunday 9:10 p.m.
I was the first customer at the allotment shop. It's a container and this was the first day of opening. Springtime! I got six bags of seed potatoes, six bags of onion sets, and a packet of onion and celery seeds for just under £20.
One of the photies is of the allotment from the hut. I usually dig it all at this time of year. One of the photies is of the back of Brian Wilson's castle in Porty where you can get pissed and eat disgusting things in the totally baltic if you've temporarily lost a screw.
One of the photies is of the bit I dug today. It's about a sixth of one side. A biggish bit as well. I was counting the worms, grubs and other creepy crawly things in the soil I turned over. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. None. Twice a year I've been digging it all. I've dug the basturn to death!
I don't think this can be right, Jack. The old people who stole the dirt are probably stealing your worms, Hotboy. I'll get a gun, Jack! I'll get a gun!
Surf's still up in the oceans of bliss. Ain't that something!
7 comments:
Nice to know I'm not the only one playing in the dirt. Though you are a bit more serious than I am about it.
I suspect your worms are still deep where it is warm. Once things warm a bit they'll come up.
I've started seeds in my wee greenhouse and planted pumpkins in the cold frame.
There may be hope for spring yet.
Marie! Perhaps all is not lost with the worms then! Postively Springlike here now. Full light at the bus stop. Hurrah! Hotboy
Re photies 1 and 2: you don't say which is before and after, so either you've been bombing the houses of the bourgeoisie again or digging their foundations. Which is it?
Albert? My wobbly connectivity kaboshed my riposte. My allotment is gradually deforming. Hotboy
I say!
Not even one Scolopendra?
MM III
Mingin'! Bugger all! Deid, I tell you! Deid! Hotboy
I say!
Not even a chogololo or two?
MM III
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