So much has happened down at the allotment since I last posted that I hardly know where to begin. The last we saw of head-scarved Harry, he was ashen-faced and coke-addled following his bodged gender reassignment. The Lady of Shallot was disembodied in the shed, dreaming of a handsome hobby-horse-boy she’d glimpsed on another plot. […]
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Remember allotment lovers Harry and the Lady of Shallot? Theirs was a thwarted union, partly because of their broomstick bodies and sponge ball heads. It was also because an allotment neighbour in the grip of a fantasy about juicy cukes erected a poly tunnel between them. I held out hope for the foiled pair. It […]
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