We're on a roll, it seems. The allotment remains almost as tidy as we left it, so we tidied it up some more. Wish I'd bought the strimmer sooner- it saves so much work.
The potatoes are beginning to flower, so they've had a bucketful of water. Yes, a bucketful. Each. We may have had some rain recently, but it's not nuch in evidence up on my allotment.
Three carrot plants are holding their own, despite the slugs. Only one of the beetroot I planted has made it. The O.H. set off with the strimmer while I planted the beetroot seedlings. Well, one can hope, can't one?
The peas now have pods and may be
ready in a week or ten days. There is no sign of the french beans (ooh la-la), so I planted some more. They always seem to need two or three attempts before they consent to grow. As there is no sign of the beans, I assume something ate them.
There's a rather lovely wild poppy growing in the middle of one bed. It's partially seeded, so a mental note to oneself to save some pods when they're ripe to go in my garden. Fat chance I'll remember, but I can only try.
The squashes are looking better and are just about to flower. Something's had a go at one, but it's big enough to take it, I think.
The onions are looking a mixed bag. They've had a good weed and water, as the longest day is nearly upon us, and they will soon stop growing and start swelling.
The OH kindly tidied up the fruit patch, which is always a law unto itself, recovering as he did, a small crop of ripe strawberries. The gooseberry bush is laden and the raspberries beginning to ripen. So home and a hot bath and change of clothes, because folks, I am going out tonight. Yes, the P&J and I are supporting his judo club's quiz night tonight. The OH was invited, but declined, saying it wasn't his thing. It's got nothing to do with the European cup being on the telly. Or the rugby. Or the cricket...
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