Vegetable gardening started in earnest again a few weeks ago. I have made several supervisors trips up to the allotment and sat long hours in the shed, inspected the sowing of parsnip seed, reviewed the digging, and checked out the neighbours plots.
F and I even went up at night a couple of weeks back and enjoyed a few hours fireside. Weird, but she explained that the people in the houses aren't keen on smoke so we would wait until they were all indoors. We burned up a heap of broken up rotten pallets.
My only objection in all this gardening is that I've discovered a black and white cat had made a nest in our compost heap. Worse, F knows and seems to be encouraging him. She put a roof on it, and she talks to him when she goes near the compost. She even gave him a name - A NAME! She calls him Tuxedo Cat.
I sat in the shed and contemplated him through the window: curled up and asleep in his comfortable nest for as long as I could bear it and finally had to see him off. It didn't require a fight, just a stern talking to. He needed to understand that this is MY allotment - all of it, even the compost heap, even if I don't sleep in it.
I'm happier with the place now that I know he's absorbed that message, and we haven't seen him in the compost heap (at least not when I've been there) since.
(Note from F: Clearly not a stray cat, clearly in excellent condition. Cautious cat, a bit jumpy, but he got used to me being around if I talked while I was close by. Yes, I encouraged him, as it seemed a useful way to discourage rats and other vermin that hang about allotment sheds and compost heaps. Our friendly local fox disappeared last year and the whole site suffered an infestation of rats; everyone was complaining about them.)
F and I even went up at night a couple of weeks back and enjoyed a few hours fireside. Weird, but she explained that the people in the houses aren't keen on smoke so we would wait until they were all indoors. We burned up a heap of broken up rotten pallets.
My only objection in all this gardening is that I've discovered a black and white cat had made a nest in our compost heap. Worse, F knows and seems to be encouraging him. She put a roof on it, and she talks to him when she goes near the compost. She even gave him a name - A NAME! She calls him Tuxedo Cat.
I sat in the shed and contemplated him through the window: curled up and asleep in his comfortable nest for as long as I could bear it and finally had to see him off. It didn't require a fight, just a stern talking to. He needed to understand that this is MY allotment - all of it, even the compost heap, even if I don't sleep in it.
I'm happier with the place now that I know he's absorbed that message, and we haven't seen him in the compost heap (at least not when I've been there) since.
(Note from F: Clearly not a stray cat, clearly in excellent condition. Cautious cat, a bit jumpy, but he got used to me being around if I talked while I was close by. Yes, I encouraged him, as it seemed a useful way to discourage rats and other vermin that hang about allotment sheds and compost heaps. Our friendly local fox disappeared last year and the whole site suffered an infestation of rats; everyone was complaining about them.)
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| on the way home after a full day of supervising |
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