The English Spirit and Allotmenting
During one of my idle perusals in the gardening section of my local bookshop I came across a very enlightened tome. One that not only helps you to produce perfect vegetables in large volumes, but also recognises that most of us are not in a position to dedicate every working minute of our leisure time to allotmenting - mainly because we just don’t want to. The old adage “too much work and not enough play, makes Jack a dull boy” applies equally to your leisure pursuits just as much as to work itself. This is easily proved by observing your colleague sat at the next desk. His three main interests are golf, golf and...yes...golf. We’ve all been bored by this person at some stage in our lives.
The book I flicked through advocates spending five half hour sessions per week at the allotment. If you prefer some other variation, such as 2 ½ hours spent on a Saturday morning as I do, then this is fine.
Now I suspect that many allotmentors don’t need a book to tell them that time is scarce and that it is difficult to keep up to the demands of a rampant allotment raging ahead at the height of the growing season. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that it is this that can dishearten many of the most dedicated of allotmentors. I’m not in receipt of the latest government statistics, but from observing my own patch, the failure rate amongst allotmentors is quite high and certainly much higher than it needs to be. Partial failure, by my definition, is spending the summer presiding over an Amazonian jungle of a plot. Outright failure is where your allotment looks so neglected that you receive an eviction order from the local council.
But why does this happen?
I blame the old codgers. I really do. There’s a whole army of retired individuals out there who dedicate their every waking hour to their veg plots. It’s like arriving at the Chelsea Flower Show as you walk past some of them. Many of these allotments are pruned and preened as if they have nothing better to do all day. They don't have anything better to do all day - those lucky people. This retired army of paper shufflers are dedicated to the point of obsessiveness, and they have all day long to hone their horticultural pursuit. However, this level of perfection can have a profound effect on the lay allotmentors morale. As you glance at these works of art en route to your allotment, and then observe your own weed infested quagmire - you missed last week’s session due to the incessant rain, you tend to question why you go on. My advice to fellow waverers is to resist the temptation to be caught up in the desire for perfection, at least with your allotment. Your new car may be perfect; your new kitchen may be perfect; but your allotment is not, and never will be.
It’s all about optimising your time and being clear about your priorities for each visit. If you are only able to cultivate half of your allotment, then so be it and allow the uncultivated half to become an overgrown eyesore. Okay so you'll give your neighbour a few weed seeds in the breeze from your plot, but you won’t be the only weed seed supplier in the area, and they are unlikely to confront you about it.
Having said that, my allotment secretary once called me up and asked me to clear the dandelions on my plot so there are some sensitivities that don’t always remain hidden. Anyway, your neighbour is bound to have some of their own home grown weeds on their plot, so they will be far from perfect. I feel a new adage coming on, “he who has weed free allotment shall cast the first curse”, or something like that.
I tend to target specific areas of my plot for my visits. For instance, if the weediest area is the asparagus, then concentrate on that. Obviously, there will be other weedy areas but leave them until next week. One technique to make the allotment look tidier is to go around the whole allotment taking out the largest weeds. It is amazing how some can disguise themselves amongst the legitimate foliage, particularly around potatoes.
So at the end of your shift you may think that the allotment hasn’t improved that much, but at least you have a pile of weeds to prove that you have done something.
The book I flicked through advocates spending five half hour sessions per week at the allotment. If you prefer some other variation, such as 2 ½ hours spent on a Saturday morning as I do, then this is fine.
Now I suspect that many allotmentors don’t need a book to tell them that time is scarce and that it is difficult to keep up to the demands of a rampant allotment raging ahead at the height of the growing season. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that it is this that can dishearten many of the most dedicated of allotmentors. I’m not in receipt of the latest government statistics, but from observing my own patch, the failure rate amongst allotmentors is quite high and certainly much higher than it needs to be. Partial failure, by my definition, is spending the summer presiding over an Amazonian jungle of a plot. Outright failure is where your allotment looks so neglected that you receive an eviction order from the local council.
But why does this happen?
I blame the old codgers. I really do. There’s a whole army of retired individuals out there who dedicate their every waking hour to their veg plots. It’s like arriving at the Chelsea Flower Show as you walk past some of them. Many of these allotments are pruned and preened as if they have nothing better to do all day. They don't have anything better to do all day - those lucky people. This retired army of paper shufflers are dedicated to the point of obsessiveness, and they have all day long to hone their horticultural pursuit. However, this level of perfection can have a profound effect on the lay allotmentors morale. As you glance at these works of art en route to your allotment, and then observe your own weed infested quagmire - you missed last week’s session due to the incessant rain, you tend to question why you go on. My advice to fellow waverers is to resist the temptation to be caught up in the desire for perfection, at least with your allotment. Your new car may be perfect; your new kitchen may be perfect; but your allotment is not, and never will be.
It’s all about optimising your time and being clear about your priorities for each visit. If you are only able to cultivate half of your allotment, then so be it and allow the uncultivated half to become an overgrown eyesore. Okay so you'll give your neighbour a few weed seeds in the breeze from your plot, but you won’t be the only weed seed supplier in the area, and they are unlikely to confront you about it.
Having said that, my allotment secretary once called me up and asked me to clear the dandelions on my plot so there are some sensitivities that don’t always remain hidden. Anyway, your neighbour is bound to have some of their own home grown weeds on their plot, so they will be far from perfect. I feel a new adage coming on, “he who has weed free allotment shall cast the first curse”, or something like that.
I tend to target specific areas of my plot for my visits. For instance, if the weediest area is the asparagus, then concentrate on that. Obviously, there will be other weedy areas but leave them until next week. One technique to make the allotment look tidier is to go around the whole allotment taking out the largest weeds. It is amazing how some can disguise themselves amongst the legitimate foliage, particularly around potatoes.
So at the end of your shift you may think that the allotment hasn’t improved that much, but at least you have a pile of weeds to prove that you have done something.
Labels: Prioritising