Ok, alright. We are fully aware that a caravan, a model railway and now an allotment, firmly puts us in the middle aged bracket. But come on, what's not to love? Maturity rocks! Imagine BBQing you own corn on the cobs. And picking your own raspberries for pudding. Fresh lettuce every day. Cut flowers every week. Cherry tomatoes coming out of your ears. Yep, that's a bath tub in the photo. Concentrate please.
Unfortunately, the other half's reaction to the news that we were firstly top of the waiting list and then subsequently picking up an allotment 2 weeks later, is not clean enough to type here, but he has a point what with working full time with a wedding to organise for this summer. I think I'm winning him round by assuring him it won't be toooooo much hard work and only growing easy fruit and veg (think fruit bushes and runner beans) and by throwing in some parsnips to keep him happy. Despite his grumbling he is good fun and we've planned BBQs each evening we work down there. Now the race is on to get everything in the ground. Just need to buy a fork first. And a hoe. D'oh.