Good grief, the plots are a swarm of happy-go-lucky retirees on a sunny afternoon.  Apparently (and I quote), “when you’re retired, every day is a bank holiday.”  Hmph.  Not that I am jealous or anything.  I’m fortunate enough to be my own boss, which means – when the sun comes out and the telephone quietens – I get to trundle down to the plot.

To work, of course.  In-between sitting around with a bottle of blueberry juice to watch the robin flutter between the runner bean canes.

So here’s what I did, and I expect you to be mighty impressed:

First, I cultivated a new patch for yet another packet of French bean seeds that have been lurking in my seed box.  These were ‘Cobra’, the beans that Joe Swift raved about on Friday’s Gardener’s World.  (I didn’t put grass underneath the bed.  I was too tired and finished by the time I remembered.)  This New Patch of mine happened to be along the side of the rusty old shed that we inherited.  Formerly, this Patch was Official Dumping Ground, covered in rusty old poles, spoons (huh??) and other rubbish.  So the first hour was clearing all that off, spotting a frog trying to escape, and prodding the nearby rubbish to ‘encourage’ the frog to finish escaping.

Then a rest, and a little chat with the lucky retiree on the plot-but-one.  He told me we’d get a half-hundredweight of potatoes, which would be helpful if I knew how to translate into pans or handfuls. He was rewardingly impressed with all we’ve done on the plot – it’s absolutely enormous, and I’m not saying this boastfully, because we are not yet sure we can manage it all – but it’s nice when people can see how much work you’ve put in.

I finished digging the patch after another, like, hour and a HALF!  because the ground was solid as a rock.  I think it’s probably NEVER been dug, or maybe not for twenty years.  Another frog appeared and scarpered.  And I put in the French beans, with poles for support.  I might transplant some squashes to the bed at the bottom, too – that could work, and we have zillions of squash seedlings that have self-sown (thanks to someone who dumps squash seeds in the compost bin).

Finally I planted out some more peas – not grown in guttering, as everyone advises, but in modular trays, which seems to have been a big mistake.  They didn’t come out very happily so I’m not sure they’ll take.  And I’m so looking forward to eating our peas, too.  Anywhere I can squeeze in some more, I will.

The saladini continues to rocket (geddit) skywards no matter how much we eat it – what a great crop.  I’ve sown lots more alongside yellow chard (for leaves), extra rocket, icebergs and radishes.  I’ll try again with spring onions soon, too.  They just didn’t appear at all the first time around.  Beet, carrots and kohl rabi all doing nicely, as are the runners and squashes, and potatoes going crazy.  I’m looking forward to eating new potatoes with peas and broad beans – how brilliant that will be.  I’ll have the camera sorted out by then.

There are still 9 whole days before we pay the first rent on our plot, so yes, probably.  But the deputy gardener and are ambitiously planning to get the plot into production as soon as possible. 

Very good, you may think; at least, you might think that until you actually see the said plot.

Not only is it huge (I mean six or seven times the size of our garden), but it’s also covered in weeds.  For years, it has been a vast, devoted cabbage patch. 

So yes, we may be overestimating our weeding powers.  We are ridiculously keen at this point.  Still, we have recruited a team of dedicated weeders and a fierce dog, and we’re not afraid of the Roundup gun, if it comes to that.

So we’ve been shopping.  The idea is to prepare a couple of beds by the end of September, ready for sowing our first crops, and getting the plot productive as soon as humanly possible.  Above is just some of the loot!

We also have a selection of seeds from the wonderful Heritage Library, the annual seeds for my cutting garden (which are in a box, in the shed, guarded by spiders), plus a few lettuce and bean seeds leftover from this summer. 

Wish us luck – we’ll probably be back here in four weeks’ time with our heads in our blistered hands.