Adventures in the life of an English allotment
One universally acknowledged trait of the British is their obsession with the weather. After greeting a fellow Brit, the conversation always turns to the weather. It's an inexhaustible subject which can be used in any conversation. When I worked in Italy several years ago, I completely baffled my colleague by cheerfully chatting about the weather... Continue Reading →
Apart from feeding the chickens and checking that the new girls are coping in the main coop, we spent half an hour harvesting the first of our crops. As my husband got busy picking our white strawberries, I ran around making sure that all the chickens had a full water bowl. Chickens can't lower their... Continue Reading →
Despite having an allotment for over 7 years now, I can safely say that growing plants successfully is still a skill that alludes me. What I seem to be able to grow brilliantly, and without any effort whatsoever, is a wide variety of weeds. Personally, I think they sense my lack of ability and take... Continue Reading →
With the end of a truly dreadful week at work, I trudged down to the allotment. A few weeks ago, I spotted an advert for point of lay hens from a local farm. I contacted the farm and to my delight, found they had pullets available in two of my favourite breeds, Black Rock and... Continue Reading →
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