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.

Spring has sprung

At last. At long last. Spring has arrived, and it has arrived with a vengeance. The weekend was beautiful, blossom on the trees, all sorts of flowers out and a general sense that the winter with its snow and mud is behind us.

We took the opportunity to see whether the lakes near Tuzla were open yet. Deliberately not taking any swimming stuff (however much the boys beg, it is too cold to go swimming just yet) we set off and joy of joys, they are. People were cooking barbecues and picnicking, playing volleyball, fishing and generally moving into summertime mode. It was lovely.

Inspired we came back, bought a barbecue and spent the evening cooking our own burgers and kebabs in the garden, enjoying the evening light and not having to put on a jacket. Throw in a few beers, the odd glass of cold white wine and some good friends and races with small children around the garden and suddenly Bosnia doesn't seem a bad place to be at all.

Even with all the above, there is one development that has really caught my imagination. I've noticed over the past couple of weeks that all the Bosnians have been very busy in their gardens. Not tending to flowers (although there are some roses and other splashes of colour appearing in front of everyone's house) but planting their vegetables. There has been a flurry of digging, weeding and planting going on in almost every garden and most the open spaces around. Well, when in Bosnia.... we now have our own allotment in the corner of the garden. More accurately we now have our own dug up bit of earth and the bottom of the garden, but I have onions, carrots, peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes to plant. I know nothing about growing green stuff, being an urban girl born and bred. But, I'm very excited about having a go, and, armed with their own trowels and permission to go get really dirty, so are the boys. You never know, if they grow the vegetables themselves they may even get inspired to eat them.