Am I Being Unfaithful?

A Bank Holiday ahead and an extra day on the allotment, the decision is easy.  I put on my weathered clothes, slip on my wellies and remember I need a few bits from the garden shed for the allotment.  It’s here where my day changes.  I step into the garden with the sun on my back and the garden bursting with life, but she’s not happy.  She knows where I’m going.  No matter how I try to hide it she knows.  The clothes give it away, the musky smell of dried earth on my sweater, there’s no mistaking that aroma: I have a date and it’s not with her.


But when did she first suspect?  When I said I wouldn’t be planting vegetables anymore.  ‘But darlin’ think of all that extra space.  I can get you more flowers’.  Or was it the recent t-shirt tanline that gave it away, ‘I can’t keep wearing long sleeves, summer’s coming’.  Maybe she saw the dirt under my nails and knew it wasn’t hers.


I’m feeling guilty, even reluctant to go, but I know up on that allotment there’s a plot waiting for my gardener’s touch.  Inviting me to sink my hands into her warm soil, shape her beds and tend to her weeds.  In return she promises me a bumper crop and a place where I can escape from reality, if only for a few hours.


I suppress my guilt, turn to my garden and make promises that I’ll water her tomorrow, maybe treat her to a wicker trellis or some solar lights.  But she knows I won’t be back today, to her they’re just empty promises.

How do the others do it?  Juggle them both without a care in the world?  Surely ‘heartless’ and ‘gardener’ are not phrases that sit together.  What to do, what to do?  But as I continue to write and the guilt continues to mount I turn to the snaps I took earlier today of that enticing plot that always has a smile for me and I know, deep inside I know, I’ll never leave her.  She had me the first time I pulled back her tarpaulin.



”Welcome to the party, pal”

I’ve been away this week with work, so had to let our plot fend for herself.  However, on my return I was straight up there to see if everything was in order and to do a few jobs.


To my delight the cabbage is off and running, and, if I do say so myself, looking pretty good.

Wild Flowers

Onto the carrots and yep, the little seedlings are pushing through thick and fast.  Also, the wildflowers are having a whale of a time on their patch.


Next up, the peas.  And would you believe it they too are coming through which is-

Hang on what’s this… WEEDS?

The warmer weather, the rain and wind has kick started one of the gardener’s many nemeses: weeds.  So I quickly arm myself with my trusty hoe and start dispatching these protruding buggers with accurate precision and without emotion.  I was raining weed-maggedon on these unwanted guests.  All I needed was a torn vest, squinty eyes and an eternal pout and I’d have been Bruce Willis on a bad day.

Something tells me spring has arrived… ‘’Welcome to the party, pal’’.