Allotment Update

Yet more courgettes and French beans! This time I phoned the Residential Home for Adults with Learning Disabilities that I used to work at and asked them if they could use the courgettes. A number of these have grown into marrows. The manager accepted gratefully, agreeing that Stuffed Marrow was a traditional meal that many of the residents would be familiar with and would enjoy.

Over the weekend a friend helped me harvest the remaining ‘Foremost’ First Early and ‘Saxon’ Second Early potatoes. Total yield was over 30 lbs of Foremost and over 50 lbs of Saxons. Many of the Saxons are baking potato size, and maybe because of the combination of drought in their early growing phase then over-abundance of water in their latter days, they have strange creases in them. Some of the potatoes also have small black holes in them, which may or may not be eelworm, but overall certainly a pleasing harvest.

Fractious

Here I was back at home, free to choose my own schedule, to do more or less as I please, to enjoy the solitude for which I’d been yearning – and perversely I felt fractious and sorry for myself, uncharacteristically ready to find fault. Where was the beautiful big bunch of flowers, the rapturous ‘welcome home’? The last time I’d had an operation, I’d thought beforehand about how friends often say ‘let me know if there’s anything I can do to help’, and I’d let it be known that I would appreciate it if anyone felt like making us a meal. It’s a way I’ve been happy to show my love and care for others in the past. This time I hadn’t asked – and no one had offered. Where was the reaping what I’d sown?

Instead it was up to me to put an extra bit of effort in, to make myself feel loved and cherished. I discovered a chicken breast in the fridge Vic had defrosted and then not used, plus a few rashers of bacon. I decided to cook a luxurious evening meal and walked into town to buy cream, mushrooms and leeks. In the supermarket I bumped into a friend who drew me into a warm hug, inadvertently applying painful pressure to the wound. “You didn’t drive in, did you?” she demanded. “No, I walked” I responded quickly. What I hadn’t anticipated was that my legs were feeling quite trembly, and I would have appreciated a lift home, but I didn’t think to ask and she didn’t think to offer, even though she told me she was planning to drop a card and some flowers round later on. We parted, each to our own shopping, and I walked home. I hadn’t been home long when the doorbell rang – it was my friend. She thrust a bunch of pinks and a card at me and scurried off to jump in the car with her husband. They lead VERY busy lives. Strangely the interlude didn’t improve my mood. Here were flowers and a card signed by some of my friends at church, but this peevish spirit dismissed the gesture as being too little, too late. No pleasing some people, eh? Who IS this churlish monster hiding behind my polite smile?

Dinner was every bit as delicious as I’d intended. I cut the chicken and bacon into bite-sized pieces, fried them with the leek, onion, garlic and mushrooms, added a tin of cream of chicken soup then tipped it all into a casserole dish and topped it with thinly sliced boiled potatoes (from the allotment, naturally), poured cream over and cooked it for 45 minutes. Vic arrived home as I was cutting up the chicken breast with a sharp knife. I barely acknowledged his greeting, instead continuing to concentrate on the task in hand. After a pause he asked, “Have I upset you?” It was the wrong thing to say. Please don’t ask me what the RIGHT thing to say would have been at that point! After I’d verbally eviscerated him, I suggested he give me a bit of space to find myself again. Later he gave me the beautiful get well card his boss’ wife had made for me. Strange how the kindness of casual acquaintances can reach us when we have all but closed ourselves off to those who love us.

Greengracer*

Saturday 2nd
Over the allotment there is much to be done. In three hours I harvested more courgettes, cauliflower, sugar snap peas, French beans, carrots and swede, and dug up one and a half rows of the ‘Foremost’ first early potatoes. They look a bit scabby but otherwise quite a good yield. On top of all the courgettes I’ve given away already, today’s harvest would have stocked a greengrocer’s! The people on the neighbouring plot were happy to take two off my hands, and the rest I passed on to a couple from church who run a charity supporting an orphanage in Uganda (the plan being they would offer them in exchange for donations to the orphanage, along with copies of courgette recipes). Got a lift home with all the produce and set to work making a delicious fresh vegetable masala for dinner. Feel free to ask if you want the recipe. There was enough left over to freeze two generous portions.

Sunday 3rd
Today I had some help lifting the remaining first early potatoes, plus one plant’s-worth of the ‘Saxon’ second earlies to see what they’re like. Had the Saxons roasted for dinner - delicious!
Blanched and froze the cauliflower, peas and beans.

*If someone who sells vegetables is a greengrocer, is someone who gives them away a greengracer?

Reflections

Walked into town today to join a group of friends for coffee. What we have in common is all being Mental Health service users. One member of the group spoke of the problems she and her husband have been encountering in selling their house and moving to another area. She had been accumulating her annual leave ready for the move, but upon learning that for various reasons the move would be postponed until September, she had suddenly realised just how tired she was and decided to take a week off. That seemed to be the signal her body had been waiting for to manifest various annoying symptoms of physical illness, minor in themselves but sufficient in their accumulation to leave her feeling well below par and vulnerable to the serious depression that stalks her life.

Intelligent, articulate, artistically gifted and highly organised, this lady has considerable insight and the ability to convey things conversationally in a manner that makes entertainment of her struggles for her audience. As I listened, I recognised a pattern I have noted before in my own life and others’, that the body sometimes will defer illness until a season of work ends and a lull begins. This phenomenon is so widely recognised that pre-retirement counselling is provided to minimise the risk of succumbing to an early visit from the Grim Reaper upon reaching that time beyond regular employment. I knew all this, but hadn’t previously made the connection my mind now supplied. I thought back to Vic’s trip to France. I had filled his absence with a foment of activity. That word, foment, originally had the sense of applying warm liquids to the skin, and in similar vein, the pleasant activities had acted like a balm to my soul, washing away any anxious thoughts or feelings in a gently enjoyable stream of consciousness. Then came the night of his return. It has been said that where our deepest fears and desires meet, nightmares are born.

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I had intended to spend Friday afternoon over the allotment but the weather was a bit ‘iffy’ so instead I popped into the supermarket on my way home and bought some leeks and brie. The courgette plants over the allotment have produced a prodigious crop and I’ve been giving them away on the ‘café’ offshoot of the local Freecycle group. One of the recipients shared her Courgette & Brie soup recipe with me and I wanted to give it a go. It was yummy!

Good News!

Fantastic news in the Telegraph today about rember, a new drug for the treatment (and potentially the prevention) of Alzheimer’s! My thoughts went to Terry Pratchett and I found myself spontaneously giving thanks to God for this scientific advance, an answer to prayer.

I’ve now made a formal report of the recent break-in and attempted break-in over the allotment to the police, as requested by the Site Rep. It seemed a bit of a trivial matter to be bothering them with, but the Administrator who took the call said I’d done the right thing, only wondering why I’d left it so long.

Soppy Senegal

Went to visit Dave to see the work he’s had done on his drive and renew my acquaintance with his Senegal parrot. The bird loves caresses and attention. It also quite likes sidling under my long hair and wearing it like a comb-over.

I grew carrots!

I grew carrots! Last year when I first took on an allotment I listened to my fellow allotmenteers and concluded that growing carrots wasn’t for the faint-hearted. My neighbour went to great lengths to erect an enclosure to protect his carrots from carrot root fly. This year when I was looking at seed, I came across an F1 hybrid carrot seed that was resistant to carrot root fly, so I thought I’d have a go. As you can see from the photo, I was delighted with the result. They are a good shape and texture, although I think flavour has been sacrificed in the bid to breed in pest-resistance.

Wearing shorts to work over there seemed to make sense because of the heat, until I felt something biting my leg. I looked down expecting to see a red ant, and was surprised to discover the culprit was a spider! I was scared of spiders as a child but was always told ‘Spiders don’t hurt you’ (you can tell I was born and brought up in the UK). When I had children of my own, I didn’t want to pass down my fear of spiders and successfully de-sensitised myself to them many years ago. At home I’ll often leave them in undisturbed ‘nature corners’, thinking that they will get rid of other pesky visitors such as flies and woolly bears. Well, that’s my excuse anyway. Might not be quite so accommodating in future!