Mr B seems to be working most
weekends at this time of year, and F spends all her time at the allotment. She seems to be of the view that I should
spend all my time at the allotment with her.
I wouldn’t mind so much but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else
around. It is especially deserted when
she works in the rain, and that’s boring. I sat in one of the rows of seeds at
one stage as she was carefully spacing them out – just to make a point. She just
filled it in around me burying my feet and tail. So that didn’t work.
The allotment doesn’t look
like much yet. She has planted out some
small plants but the garden is all hoops and nets of one kind or another. I am beginning to suspect she has an anti on
cats and pigeons.
Speaking of cats, I saw that
Tuxedo cat the other day. I sat on the
upturned incinerator bin and watched him trying to hunt mice on a neighbours
plot. The neighbour won’t be best
pleased but F and I both saw him grab the edge of the fancy weed mat thing in
his teeth and pull it all back off the garden – including all the bricks and
metal poles and big lumps of wood that were meant to hold it down. He pulled it back about 2 metres. F put it back again later, but I guess that
might explain why she has securely staked wire netting over all her beds of
seedlings.
No, Tigger – the netting is defence against
wood pigeons, but now that you mention it I suppose it will keep Tuxedo cat off
as well.
Lee did drop by without his
dog and he and F went on a bit of a tour of the plots to look at slug
traps. I followed them only to get
scooped up at one stage and sat on top of the communal water tank. Next thing I know one of the crows that claim
the allotments as territory sat on Lynne’s bean fence and shouted at me. Of course I had no choice but to stand my
ground and shout back. How embarrassing;
engaged in a shouting match with a raucous, unsophisticated bird.
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