Saturday saw a new moon, a new Hindu year and saw us break new ground on the new Observer Magazine Organic Allotment. I arrived first so had time to sit alone, to look, to listen... to observe... before Scarlett and Howard arrived (Sarah had her bike stolen the night before but she'll join us again soon). The good news is that plot is in a sunnier position than Ruth's (still facing west) and has been lovingly cared for... at least until the past couple of years when Scarlett's RSI made heavy work difficult. But there is much to love here, patches of poached egg plant, tobacco-coloured nasturtiums, some scraps of corn salad. The (not so) bad news: there is a rats' nest in the bank in the back (which is overgrown, with bramble and nettles masking rubble and rubbish).
The soil looks a tad tired, there are lots of little spaces producing very little. And then there is a dank, deep pond in the heart of the plot. Perfect for frogs (and there were many) foul-smelling... a sort of fairytale goblin's swamp for small kids to fall in.
But no more... It's gone. Today the frogs are swimming in cleaner, clearer water just a few feet away. Our new neighbours (they arrived a few weeks before us) have also imported a pond - now home to an extended frog family.
I'd like to take a moment here to pay tribute to the frogs: one who had a steroid-pumped Schwarzenegger back. Lets call him dad (unless someone knows better)? Then there were three or four wifelets (imagine a seventies hippy commune where the other alpha males have all moved on) and numerous smaller (this year's tadpole?) sizes).
Now for all I know the large frog is female and they are the albatrosses of the reptile world: a deeply monogamous froggie family. But whatever their feeling on fidelity (anyone know?), the frogs sat totally trusting in my hands when I moved them, sometime two at a time.
But back to the digging. This was our first testing of the new team: Howard and I slipping back easily into familiar roles: Howard more quietly disciplined... with me perhaps more determined. The other good news of the day is that Scarlett is a sympathetic gardener. Seemlessly chatting away (mostly to herself) as she transplanted the irises and lillies from the pond, the onions, the rhubarb, the assorted bulbs. We have cleared a temporary sick-bay bed and put other rescued plants in pots until we have trenched the plot and its 'personality' becomes clearer.
Anway, our first day and dig's done. There will be many more to come. My hamstrings hurt but I am elated to be working soil and getting muddy again.
Now how was your weekend?
