So, after a very short lived heat-wave, in which I spent a fortune on factor 50 (the biopsy came back clear, by the way – hooray doesn’t do it justice) and then whisked the seedlings out of the greenhouse and planted them outside, it has now doggedly tipped it down ever since. And at 13 degrees centigrade, the temperature has barely hit puberty.
For the first time in our relatively short history of having an allotment, I am seriously worried that we may actually have nothing to eat this year.
The strawberries are drowning in a muddy swamp, the french beans have plateaued at below-the- knee height, and the courgettes, squash and cucumbers are looking thoroughly pissed off and refusing to flower. Everything else is just shivering miserably, looking like it would rather be eaten by slugs than stick out the English summer.
On the positive side, there is now enough water in the water-butt to keep us going for the rest of the year, should the sun ever make a re-appearance.
And as I’ve been feeling pretty rough for the last few weeks (hence lack of recent blog posts), it’s good to know the allotment hasn’t actually missed me that much. Next month is the highlight of the allotment calendar, with the annual barbecue and award ceremony.
Last year we won a prize for a seriously huge cauliflower. ‘It was this big – honestly.’ Ok, so the prize was a dodgy looking CD entitled ‘Music for Gardeners’ featuring classics such as Tu-Li-Tulip Time by The Andrews Sisters and Jimmy Dorsey (any takers?) but hey, it’s the recognition that counts. Though if we don’t get any sun soon, this year’s entry may just have to come from a well known supermarket. Though, that would be cheating. Wouldn’t it?