There’s still much to do on the allotment – and just time to sow some late-summer salads
Two weeks now playing catch up. Fire-fighting: hours at the weed-face, hoe in hand. Some speed is of the essence. I rip out the tired tear peas, a bit too pallid now and exhausted, like me. I pick through for dried pods to save seed. I leave the two hazel structures. I am still craving the height. Not ready yet to pack the summer wigwams away. I have hopes for hand-high morning glory.
Visits are twice a day, early and late, most days. Hoeing, weeding, feeding, no longer standing totally straight. A penance of sorts, paying in the hours I owe. The plot is a stern taskmaster. I wish for an osteopath.
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