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this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning

I’m feeling quite Churchillian today. We the Cowtans of Carshalton face a battle, we must hold true and fast in the face of our foe. They will not want, they will not give in, until the end is upon them. And take them to the end of their days we will. We will prevail, for all that is good in the world.

We were at the allotment again today.  Following the bonfire last week, we began the onerous task of digging out bramble and nettle roots.  Bramble roots resemble those Mandrake roots of Harry Potter fame – without the faces or unbearable screeching. Using a fork, some welly (literally), and perseverance, I’d say 1/8th of our plot is free.  We have more to do.

We also visited the allotment shop. For the membership fee of £2 (£1 each year thereafter), we were able to purchase a variety of garden and allotment products, plants, seeds and tools. A veritable Menagerie of slightly dusty, slightly damp things of varying uses. George would have made some marvelous medicine indeed from the contents.  Interactions move a glacial pace in the shop – you can’t go without being prepared for a chat and some allotment-banter.

There’s a lot of allotment banter. Yet more randoms came to say hello and to offer encouragement. We will need it. Even though we are several months before the growing season comes around…the War on Brambles is on-going.  We must root them out and remove the threat of thorns and tasty fruit. Wait, Why am I getting rid of them? Oh yeah – to plant pumpkins or courgettes, squashes or sweet potatoes.

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