Friday 10 July 2009

An Allotment ASBO


Got out early to do battle with nature and when I got back there was a letter from the council entitled 'Pernicious weeds.' All my fault, apparently.

blah blah, '...as an allotment tenant you have a duty to comply with your tenancy agreement at all times.' All times, even at night? Heavy stuff for someone who took over a piece of wasteland, uncultivated for 30 years and for which the rent is £20 per annum. I phoned, then e mailed pleading shoulder injury. (My visit to the Shoulder Class at the hosiptal on Tues can wait. So much fun.)

Later I returned to my plot to do some more battle and met the nice elderly man who gave me the broad beans on Sun. He's always there. Maybe he lives in his shed. Anyway, he too had received a letter and was 'hopping mad.' His plot is an example to all aspiring allotmenteers. So I don't feel so bad now. Maybe everyone got one. Given that my plot had been rejected by 6 other people before I took it on and the council estimated that they would clear it in 2 years time, I was under the impression I was doing them a favour. Really, I am just a tenant. A peasant.

Allotment gossip. Apparently, the people on the plot next to mine with the huge plants have been putting Miracle Grow into the water tank, which they thought was just for them. How come we haven't each got one then? I'm happy with my small, but morally superior, nearly organic parsnips.

3 comments:

Jane said...

Good absolutely zonking grief!
Is there no end to this nonsense? I'm now worried that someone will be down from Brussels, or is it Strasbourg, and arrest me because my weeds are too tall.

Wedding cake, parsnips and plainchant will keep you sane. Never known to fail. Oh, and blackcurrant jam..

btw it's going to be a good year for elderberry. Will post some recipes when the time comes.

Patricius said...

Sounds like someone in the council offices had fallen behind and wasn't meeting their target for sending out letters!

leutgeb said...

Thanks. I think you are right because when I phoned up the lady who had written the letter was on annual leave. It's the sort of thing you could imagine as an appraisal target, which you would squeeze in just before you went on holiday.