Earlier in the year, we had a plot I actually felt quite proud of. Approximately divided into quarters, there was the fruit/herb section, the potato section, the veg section, and the compost/fallow sections.

The veg section We had numerous little strips of vegetables: carrots, corn, brussel sprouts, borlotti beans, courgettes, beetroot, leeks, fennel (not bulbing), runner beans, psb and a cabbage patch. The shallots and garlic were harvested and I sowed turnips in their space, but the seedlings kept disappearing, even when I resorted to both slug pellets and netting. Now I have an out-of-control week patch.

The courgettes are bright yellow but not as prolific as I expected. Nearby, I transplanted winter squash, and those have gone mad. I need to know two things: 1. When do we pick them? 2. Should I pull up the ones that are starting to loom over the cabbages and cauliflowers?

We have enough brussel sprouts to live on them for the entire winter, and we’re not even going to be at home for Yule.

The corn is almost ready. How thrilling is that? I really can put the water on to boil, go and pick it, bring it back and drop it in the pan.

The fruit/herb section This is all a bit of a mess. The raspberries are golden in colour, which is a really dreadfully unappealing colour for a raspberry. I am tempted to pull them all out and replace with proper fat pink ones, or even loganberries. Their bed is full of weeds and strawberries, and also alongside them is a small patch of strawbs that we brought over from the old plot, and which have done absolutely nothing. I mean, maybe one fruit in the whole bed. Why was this? Will it happen again next year?

There are some small fruit trees, with too much grass growing around them; and three hefty rhubarb plants, one of which I intend to move.

The herb bed contains a large oregano bush, a pathetic little sprig of mint, some ailing rosemary twigs (which may pick up), another raspberry cane, some chives and about a thousand tiny alpine strawberries. These make great ground cover, but taste ridiculous. The whole area needs an overhaul, but has been lower priority than the vegetables.

Bernard’s little plot is in this area, currently bearing a multi-flowered red-hued sunflower and a small currant bush.

The potato section This year we have been away so much that we haven’t even harvested all the earlies yet. The plants have died down and annual weeds are springing up so that I can’t tell where I still need to dig. We really need to get those weeds out and start clearing and composting this ground, which will be next year’s veg section. Last year we didn’t have enough potatoes, and this year, despite sowing fewer of them, there are too many.

The compost/fallow section The old asparagus patch, which was thoroughly infested by couch grass, has been covered with black plastic, and Pete’s dad has offered to dig it out. Next year, it will be combined with this year’s veg section to host the potato crop. A corner of it may be given over to a new rhubarb plant.

At the other end there is a strip of grass and the massive, nettle-infested compost bins.

The problem We have been away so much, and there has been all that rain, that now our most prolific crop is the weeds. It looks awful and I’m expecting another letter from the council any day now. I am wondering if we should give up all or part of the plot, because it feels like a terrible obligation that I never get round to dealing with. The worse it gets, the more I avoid it, and the worse it gets. There are times during the day when I should be able to get down there and rip some of those weeds out, but Bernard finds it tedious to go down there when I actually want to do some work, and even though it’s just across the street from the house, I still feel he’s too young to be left alone there. I also have continual anxieties that I should be sowing something right now, before I miss the correct season for whatever it is; the time I spend worrying about this question could be used looking in one of my several books that would give me the answer, but no, I just stress about it and do nothing.

On the other hand, it’s still so massively satisfying to go across and pick everything I need for our tea. Yesterday we had pasta with leeks, roast beetroot, courgettes and runner beans. All my own work, except the pasta. I’m not sure it’s much cheaper than buying it, by the time we’ve paid the rent and bought the seeds and invested the time in being anxious about the whole operation. But allotments are valuable and I’m reluctant to let go of mine.

If I don’t have time to look after it, I shouldn’t have one, should I?

We pitched our tent a little more efficiently than last time, while Bernard lay pathetically on a blanket feeling sorry for himself. The poor mite had some sort of stomach bug, which fortunately I didn’t catch until after we got home. We figured we may as well sit in a sunny field with a whiney child, as sit at home with one.

And it was particularly sunny. The basic facilities did not include an ice-pack freezing service, so the small quantity of food we brought in the coolbag was in great peril and had to be shifted constantly into ever-decreasing patches of shade. What the basic facilities did include was: one tap, two composting toilets for men and two for women, and two pump-your-own-water showers. A composting toilet, in case you didn’t know, is a hut built above a pit of poo.

These were sited just inside an ancient oak wood, through which there was a shady pathway that led to the shop and cafe, where they served delicious lattes (almost as good as Pete’s), and interesting salads. (Quinoa and strawberries, for example). We hired a brazier and bought a box of logs (but were forbidden from raiding the wood for kindling, lest we slaughter the insects who make their home in bits of dead tree).

They had no sausages, so we went into Cirencester where we found a traditional butcher (and a yarn shop!). Cirencester is very pretty, and would be nice to explore without a whiney child in tow. The high street was very non-generic; and as I said, a traditional butcher! You don’t get those around these parts.

Back at the campsite, several more tents had arrived, and all seemed to agree that our corner was the most attractive in the large empty field. It’s a very popular place for families, and those campers without children had wisely pitched at the far distant end of the field. There was a group of four or five families with countless children right behind us, and more arriving before our very eyes.

Pete fiddled with our stove and I failed to light a fire in the brazier. We ate sausages. Bernard was ill so I put him to bed and we sat outside until dusk, listening to the screeches of little girls and crows.

In the morning the farmer took us to see chickens and pigs, and showed us some big trees. We also spotted a stoat running after some rabbits. We went into Cirencester again, and then spent the rest of the day lounging around on the grass trying to persuade the whiney child to go and play with some of the non-whiney children. He was quite happy to ask other parents to play with him, but had no interest at all in the children.

Our fire that night was more successful, and we toasted marshmallows late into the evening. Despite Bernard being unwell, we considered our small adventure to have been a pleasant one. He seems to like camping; at least, he said he didn’t want to come home, and is looking forward to our next trip at the beginning of August.

And that’s the totem pole up there in the corner; Pete fancied a change.

We can give the OK but we can’t take over until next Sunday; which should be just about the right time for moving our fruit bushes over from Number One and piling manure on to the two established rhubarb crowns ready for next summer’s crumbles.

The adjacent plots feature such delights as maize and jerusalem artichokes that have reached more than twice the height of the same items over at Number One. Next door even has a tiny pond.

We’ve had it for two years now, and the rent is due. This year I’m not convinced we’ve had £32 worth of food or education from it, and now that I find it depressing to look at, very little pleasure. Is it time to pack it in?

The reason I don’t just throw in the towel and go back to the greengrocers is that there are a few long-term crops in there, including two-year old asparagus that ought to give us some food next year (it’s in just about the best position on the plot). The rhubarb and strawberries were the biggest successes of the year, and I don’t much want to give those up. Strawberries could possibly be replanted into the garden but the rhubarb is a bit big.

Our back garden is not big, and it’s packed with rambling, unidentified shrubbery. I have this vague idea of digging out some bushes and creating a terraced veg patch. It would be south facing and right outside the back door, so then there would be no excuse for beetroot that never swell up and cabbages with no hearts. But we don’t really have room over here for the fruit bushes or potatoes, and there’s nowhere to put a compost heap. And what would happen to the asparagus I’ve been waiting for for two years?

From the top: Bernard’s plot has several nasturtiums, a line of radishes, and a potato sprouting. Next to it are some random jerusalem artichokes. Most of the rest of this end is currently under carpet.

The asparagus is, well, there. I was expecting to see a bit more this year but it looks exactly like it did last year. In the same bed, the parsely is going nuts.

The fruit bushes might possibly have some fruit this year, but we need to erect some sort of cage, I suppose. The rhubarb at the front is doing fine, but the one at the back has collapsed. What’s that about?

We have a veg bed with non-germinating peas, PSB, a few cabbage and beetroot (I’m not holding my breath; neither of these did anything last year), one borlotti bean, a row of radishes, and quite happy-looking broad beans. Behind that are half the maincrop spuds, just starting to come through.

An area at the back that was carpeted last year now hosts the rest of the maincrop and all the earlies. We also have random spuds all over the beds, where I guess we failed to find them last year. At the front of this section there are some leeks, which have been in there for months and months; the strawbs which are just flowering; three celeriacs and a small wigwam of runner beans.

And at the bottom, on the mound of the old compost heap (also home to a slow worm), one outdoor cucumber and one courgette. I am hoping that the site will be sunnier and wetter than the location of the courgette last year, and that the slow worm will take charge of slug control.

I also just picked up some peas at the garden centre. When I can bend my knee again, I’ll put them in somewhere.

We spent half an hour or so down there today. Pete dug up some of the maincrop potatoes (Cara, if I recall correctly). The yield seems much lower than the Pentland Javelin, and they’re not as pretty. He also turned the compost, and it looks fantastic! There was real compost at the bottom of the heap; I was most impressed. I watered everything, especially the poor plants that are stuck at the back under the trees, like the wimpy calabrese and the jerusalem artichokes (not that the j-chokes seem to be suffering). Bernard stole some peapods, interfered with the neighbour’s row markers, and dropped White Cat in the mud.

We have acquired a cold frame, so now need some thoughts on what to do with it. And we are thinking about where to place Bernard’s personal plot for next year, and what to put in it to keep him quiet while we battle with the weeds.

Then I weeded all the couch grass and random other stuff out of the onion bed. I feel much better about that part now, but the rest of it is still really bad. I’ve advertised on freecycle for more carpet, and as I clear the crops, I’m going to cover over every spare bit of land, and start next year on a much smaller scale. It was just so hard to resist trying to do everything at once, and between the limitations of the weather and the demands of a toddler, it’s been impossible to keep on top of it.

Jack-with-the-hat came to ask me if we were going to move across to plot 2, now that the nettles have been strimmed. We’re not. Plot 2 gets much more sunlight, but strimmed nettles are still nettles and it’s thick with brambles too. And you know, we’ve put quite a bit of work into plot 1, even if it doesn’t immediately look like it!

The pea pods are fattening up, and one of the borlottis has pods on it too. There are a couple of tiny courgettes, but they definitely need a sunnier position next year. All the rocket has bolted, and the poor light-deprived maincrop potatoes have leaned right over the row of beetroot and fennel. The blackcurrant had lots of funny white mould on the top leaves, so I cut them off and dumped them behind the compost hutch. It has no fruit at all. But the potatoes have been delicious, boiled, stoved, and in a filo pastry tart.

The potatoes are also thigh-high, and the beans are looking good, as are the artichokes. Let’s make a list, from one end to the other:

Peas, runner beans, artichokes, asparagus, 3 fruit bushes and a huge rhubarb plant. 1 courgette, 3 calabrese, 3 brussel sprouts and 4 cauliflowers (all bought as plants). 2 carrot seedlings, apparently. Had been hoping for rather more. A grubby row of rocket, a few pathetic looking fennels, some PSB, and an increasingly interesting half-row of beetroot. A rosemary hedge, in early stages. A row of onions and about three garlic plants left, some having disappeared. A HUGE patch of maincrop and first early potatoes. Many, many weeds. I’ve also sown a row of kohl rabi, but no sign of those yet. Oh, and a scruffy patch of chervil (and weeds), and some parsley among the asparagus.

I feel I have over-reached myself.

I will be able to see it from my office window, and it will be like Mrs Tiggywinkle’s red flannel petticoat.

I chickened out of transplanting the alpine strawberry seedlings down at the allotment, and stuck them in a corner of the herb bed, where I can also report seedlings of dill, chervil, and sweet pea. I’ll see how the strawbs get on and maybe some of them can be moved to the plot at a later date.

As insurance against my non-appearing peas and beans, I have sown six peas and five borlotti beans in toilet roll tubes and very soggy compost (the lid on the bucket leaks); and they have gone into the propagator, along with two trays (actually Abel & Cole tomato punnets) of basil.

I have vegans coming to dinner, so must go and prepare a mountain of veg. Shame none of it is yet home-grown, although our neighbours down at the plot did give me a handful of PSB yesterday.

I hoed around the garlic and onions (the first onion shoot is through), and I also hoed around the peas and beans, but I’m worried about why I’m seeing nothing there yet.

Then I raked another patch and sowed a short row of purple sprouting broccoli, one of beetroot, and two of fennel. I’ve started labelling things, because I realise I can’t trust my memory on this. I have had to put a random label in where I think I might have sown some carrots a few weeks ago.

Then I cleared another patch of straggly roots and stones, and sowed a row of rocket. The rosemary hedge is coming along nicely. I was going to have another go at digging out the couch grass around the fruit bushes, but Pete says he will do that later when I’m putting Bernard to bed. Finally I cut the tops of all the nettles near the compost heap, on the principle that if they can’t get any sunlight then they will eventually die. I don’t know whether I can compost nettle tops or not.

Then I planted a row of runner beans. Not that I like them very much, but I got them in an exchange for some cloth nappies on freecycle. Unfortunately the person posted them with insufficient postage, so by the time I paid the £1 admin charge to Royal Mail, I may as well have bought them. Never mind. The dried beans are very pretty.

Finally I put in some carrots (“resistafly”). Not sure how deep. I had the book with me but instructions were unclear. I can be a bit dim at times, mind you. Then I spent a few minutes sitting on the bench looking round at the allotment, impressed at how much stuff is in the ground. While staring about, I noticed that some shoots of garlic have come up! I feel very proud. Next week I need to take the hoe down and start clearing up some of the green stuff that shouldn’t be there.

At home, I’ve put the alpine strawberry seedlings out in the yard, hoping they will be safe from frost now (how does one know?); their place in the propagator has been taken by 8 cells of Texas Wild Tomato (to grow in a pot in the yard) and 4 of courgette, because that’s how many two year old seeds were left. I hope two year old seeds will grow.

I’ve also become addicted to buying plants; hopefully the outlay will be greatest in this first year. On Monday I ordered a load of seeds from the Organic Gardening Catalogue, and today I ordered 3 plug plants of parsley and 3 of coriander from Kings Plants, whose website doesn’t seem to work. I haven’t come across any Oenothera Twilight yet, but when I do, I will take Graybo‘s advice and acquire it.

While he was doing his manwork, I also put in two rows of onions (I’ve already forgotten their name, but I got a small paper bag of them for 20p at the Shed last weekend), a row of borlotti beans, and sprinkled limanthes seeds around the fruit bushes. I finally planted out the rosemary hedge, along the path, too.

Yesterday I ordered a few more packs of seeds from the Organic Gardening Catalogue, most of which are for the new herb border in the garden, but I think I did get some carrots as well. Like a fool, when I placed my seed order with the WHA, I forgot to keep my copy, so I don’t know if there is anything else to come apart from the expensive asparagus crowns. If I was certain I hadn’t already ordered some, I would send for beetroot, jerusalem artichoke, and gherkins. Just for fun.