Allotment Jealousy

Our fledgling allotment in the corner of the garden is coming along pretty well. There are some tomato plants that definitely look as if they are going to yield some tomatoes. The carrots are growing. The rosemary, basil and parsley are going great guns. Even the peppers (or was it chillies, I can't remember) are getting bigger. The boys and I spend quite a lot of time pootling about down there, pulling up things that we hope are weeds and spraying water over the plants and, usually, each other. Adam is getting quite into it, proudly showing everyone which plants are the tomato ones and where the tomatoes are growing. The onions didn't make it, but I think that has more to do with our dog, Jess (who is on a strict diet at the moment) looking for food than them not actually growing.

But we have noticed, pleased as I am with our little patch, that it is nothing compared to our neighbours. They have great squares of vegetables with walkways between the beds. Their plants are neatly lined out in lines and not a weed to be seen. They have apple, cherry and plum trees. Their strawberries looked amazing, and their raspberries were pretty good too. I spend quite a lot of time standing by their fence looking at their garden in awe. Their beds are probably measured out to perfection and the odd millimetre difference would be noticed.

It's not all jealousy though. The cherries and raspberries overhang our garden and are ours, all ours. The great British tradition of scrumping* is developing strongly in this corner of a foreign field.

*for American readers. I just looked up the definition of scrumping and discovered that it means something else entirely over where y'all live. To avoid confusion and thinking that I'm up to something entirely inappropriate, the British meaning of scrumping is the art of stealing fruit (usually apples) from orchards and gardens that don't belong to you.