Given everyone’s situation this Spring and in memory of my Dad, I’m re-publishing the story of his allotment, starting at the beginning, ten years ago. I hope you enjoy it. With love, MS…
Dad rings.
‘I’ve been offered an allotment,’ he says. ‘After all this time!’
He put his name on the waiting list six years ago, just after he and Mum moved up to Yorkshire.
‘There’s only one snag,’ he says. ‘It hasn’t been cultivated for ten years or more. Very overgrown.’
I’m glad he views this as the only snag. He’s 87, has sciatica, a heart problem and a bad toe that makes it difficult to walk. He has never had an allotment before and his vegetable patch in the Cotswolds brought him nothing but misery. ‘Dad…’ I begin.
‘We’ll go take a look at it, shall we?’
The plot is in a newly reclaimed area at the back of a well established allotment community. The Parish Council have opened it up to try and reduce the 180-strong waiting list. We walk and stumble the maze of narrow, uneven paths, passing impressive examples of upcycling: ancient ceramic baths planted full of potatoes, a greenhouse made entirely of windows, a shed made entirely of doors (‘How do you know which one to open to go in?’ says Dad), rotting planks standing, leaning and lying for no apparent reason at all. There are animals. Chickens cluck, geese squawk and goats stand silently chewing.
We reach our plot. I stare at a chest high thicket of nettles and something I will later find described on the Royal Horticultural Society’s website as ‘a major weed problem’ – Himalayan balsam.
Faced with the reality, Dad will turn the offer down. Surely. He stands, teetering slightly.
I prompt him in a suitably morose tone. ‘Looks like a lot of hard work.’
He grins. ‘That’s the beauty of it.’
‘What?’
‘It’s in such a state they’re letting us have it free for the first year. It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it? Is that a blackcurrant bush in the middle?’
I peer but see only the powdery green hue of flowering nettles. I am sure Dad’s appreciation of the beauty of the spot is less to do with the trees and the river and more to do with the fact it isn’t going to cost him a penny.
‘What do you mean, ‘us?” I say.
‘Well, you’ve always been interested in the idea, haven’t you?’ Without waiting for an answer, he goes on ‘even if all we ever do is pick blackcurrants, we’ll still be quids in.’
Now is the time to make my position clear. I have neither the time nor inclination to take on a project like this. The only vegetables I recognise in growing form are potatoes and peas. Mr Mandy Sutter has zero interest in becoming a man of the soil so we can’t count on him for help.
But on the other hand, I haven’t seen Dad so enthusiastic about something since Mum died three years ago. And a heady, reckless feeling is on me, a known accompaniment to many a doomed new project. Perhaps I can write about it, I think. I find myself turning to him and smiling.
‘It IS a beautiful spot,’ I say.
Let me be the first to comment! Love it. Story, diary, documentary and family archive all in one place. Brilliant. Bet you really enjoyed writing it (is that why you’re up so late?) Love the cliff-hanger, and the glimpse of characters. What will you carpet-bomb the allotment with? Weed-killer? Or carpet? Here’s to the start of your new story.
Don’t lose the balsam, I hear it’s a cure all kind of thing. Could be worth it just for that!
Ah yes. If I had realised you were so gullible I’d have roped you in on mine. Then you would have had a genuine excuse to turn down your Dad. And everything would be all right…. No. Seriously.
Nettles? Friar’s balsam? Ha! Pcha! I could tell you things about perennial weeds that’d make your hair curl.
Well done! Hours of…. fun…. ahead of you. And ahead of your readers. A fab project in every sense. God Bless This Patch and everyone up to their neck in it.
hey Mandy – lovely story, well written and really engaging. really enjoyed it. we’ve got our names down for a lottie near us but the list is probably about 15 years long, so when i’m next over yr way, i’ll come and give u a hand! i’ve had lotties in Hudds and Leeds and loved every minute of them – and all the characters on them. love, Char x
Hi sweetheart! Loved reading your blog. Look forward to the next instalment. Let me know. xxx
Thanks a million for visiting my blog and for your comments, everyone! I’ve SO enjoyed reading them. Makes the work ahead on the allotment seem almost do-able… hmm. Eyes down for another installment next week.
Well done, daughter! The work is the beauty of it. The time you spend with your father there will be priceless.
Ours used to look like that. I remember it fondly; life was so easy in those days. All we had to do was dig and despair of ever growing anything. Now,the bloody place is productive, and you wouldn’t believe the work! Cropping, composting, freezing, jamming, pickling, buying another freezer…..enjoy! I look forward to hearing about it all.
How big is it?! It looks HUGE in the photos! Really lovely spot though. I’d plump for the blackcurrant picking option, plus sunbathing!! love Bridge xx
Hi Mandy
Loved this! Can’t wait to see how the story unfolds! Beautifully written,as always.
Rowenax
Hi Mandy! I can’t believe it ! Up has come ( can I say that?) your wonderful piece about your Dad’s allotment and blow me I am JUST IN THE MIDDLE OF an allotment story I’m writing for the Leeds Playhouse group called “Dandelion Wine.”..Only today I was aware (metaphorically) of you looking over my shoulder and saying “cut out those bits of whimsy..” Was MIFFED when I saw “Grow your Own” on T.V. the other night, as THEY had pinched a good chunk of my story line, then a friend made it worse by saying it was a repeat and has been on the go for at least 3 yrs. Having said all that I’m looking forward enormously to your next installment, and graciously accept that my lot is to be so very close to fame, BUT NEVER ACTUALLY THERE!! Lots of love, thank you for sharing another example of your great literary talent – let your dad have his head at the allotment and enjoy the immense pleasure it will give him, Elaine,x
I’m sure the female Bedfords would love to help clear and cultivate (and the male Bedford is more than willing to eat any of the produce.)
p.s. lovely piece of writing, Mandy.
Can’t wait for the next installment.
Will Mandy and her dad experience a garden Renaissance? Will there be poems among the potatoes?
Had I known (as someone said) I’d be happy to share my 1/3 acre site with you. Once you start getting the Freaky Flier Miles it’s practically… free.
Later, I’ve got to go see if the snow is off yet.
Once again, thanks everyone for reading my blog and leaving such superb comments! MUCH appreciated. C u next week…
Mand–i’m soooo taken with this!! I tend to agree with Lemar…strange things grow deep on an allotment-and i’m not talking about stuff you can cook! Its a wonderful idea and although the old back may, at times, say different i can’t imagine that any other part of your being would have regret….
I await the next phase enthusiastically! Thankyou for sharing this with me-it has re-kindled a warmth for overgrown, earthy places….
Much Love to you dear friend,
Jilly
Noos, Now I understand. Can’t wait to hear about the plowing under. You and your dad in overalls, muggy heat on your skin. I’m gonna want a potato sent all the way to Montana.
Hi love! What a fab snippet to keep me awake while breastfreding baba (thank the goddess for iPhones!).
So good to get some Yorkshire humour and gritty values in sunny castlemaine (Victoria), although tis raining as i write. Must share experience of recent trip to allotments in Melbourne. Very neat and tidy! Each gardener has a raised bed 8 foot square and wood chip pathways all round. An alluminium shed houses tools and watering cans. They appealed to my tidy Virgo mind but they lacked wildness and looked v inorganic! Give me your plot any day…without the rain! A Gardener friend recently boasted about being ‘productive’ in November (April in English) and I glanced inthe direction of his five children and remarked that he seemed to be productive all year round! He didn’t appreciate my wit which is why I feel the need to repeat it!!
So good to read your stuff darl.
Missing you both
liz xxx
Lovely website Mandy. Beautiful to think you and your dad may have a project together. Ok, sounds like you might just have to do most of the work but a place where you can both share the beauty of nature all around and each other.
Wonderful uplifting piece.
Susi x
Hi Mandy,
Love the blog and the poems, Mandy – esp the sonnet. You are so good!
Hope the allottment goes okay. Sounds like your dad had a plan! forget the back pain and just look forward to those new potatoes and runner beans, slathered in garlic butter;the crisp lettuce; the golden corn cobs; the strings of onions hanging in the garage…
:-))Jenny
Fabulous – hours of fun coming up. All that digging…you’ll turn into the female Seamus Heaney.
Hi Mandy,
Thanks for letting me know about this, it’s great. I love to hear other people talk about gardening and enjoy watching the beauty they reveal. I’ll happily follow your blog, just don’t ask me to do the work!
Hi Mandy –
Lovely human story but more to the point I’ve got my name down for an allotment and last time I enquired the cow at the council offices said I hope you’re still alive when your turn comes up – well given my state of mind you can imagine how well that went down!!!!
Mandy – if you’re seriously taking this on as a project as well as a blog and need/want extra muscle let me know. I’d love to be of help. At least until my ship comes in…
xxx Damaris xxx
Gorgeous stuff, Mandy 🙂 thanks for sharing, as they say. Nurture those lovely hours with your Dad. Oh – and be sure to grow plenty of carrots for whizzing up into Ilkley Fest cakes …
Looking forward to seeing it all grow. If you need any manure, just ring the England football squad. xx
Hi Mandy,
Enjoyed reading that. How lucky to have your Dad.Get a shed for hiding in. What else can I read that you have written? Jack is hoping to come to Leeds in Sept to do chemistry.
Ta ever so.
Jo
Hi Mandy! I can;t believe you are doing this site! I don’t know wether I can read it! I’m really amazed! My next effort at a book is about a reluctant gardener who gets an allotment, amonmgst other things, when she is widdowed!!!!!! If I read your site youll think I;ve pinched your stuff! But I would love to read it. What shall I do? I hope Tim and Fable are both fine, as well as yourself. Robyn is a gorfeous, very clever and bold teddy bear of a dog. Your Christmas photo of Fable was gorgeous!!! Love Jude x
Once again, friends, thank you so much for your responses: I’m so heartened by them! More stories on the way…
I really enjoyed this and it speaks a lot about the relationship with your dad. Can’t wait to hear how the story unfolds and the nurturing of veg, dad and the soil. My father and stepmother nearly divorced when he ‘helped’ weed her cherished allotment in Oxford and pulled up all the flourishing asparagus….
Hi Mandy
loved pared down story & the inevitable (but not anticipated) punch line…many echoes for me with my dad. The optimism of age absolutely inspiring!
Jacqui
VEGETABLESSS!!!! Me wanna allotment, preferably on the top of a campervan though! 🙂 Hope all goes to ‘plan’. You know where I am if there’s some manhandling of machinery to be done. Or just remedial tasks, I don’t mind. Happy to help. I’m good with a fork!
PS. Apologies for my grammatical and spelling naughtiness. Must make your skin crawl.
PPS. Ello Unc! xxxxxx
I really ‘dig’ this story. Guess you are truly about to address and call a spade ‘a spade’.Suggest you meditate on why this space is called allotment. Is a lot meant? Is this the almighty fairly apportioning the earth. Should everyone have one and if not why not? You could write new words to the nursery story about the Three Billy Goats Gruff…”I’m a Trowell fol-de rowell x 3 and I’ll [dig you,man, and] eat you for supper” [sung loudly to a passing potato]
You could borrow someone’s slowly deflating ‘Kiss me I’m forty’ birthday helium balloon and tie it to a wooden post by the essence-of-raspberry-bush-in-the-ethers-awaiting-birth, as a bird-scarer. You could learn to speak hedgehog and squirrel and rat and teach that wonderful dog that ‘allotment’ means ‘seeking out old bones’ then watch the fun. You could employ a hunky young Mr. Rotivator and start a new exercise class for the neighbours. The possibilities are endless…..
Lovely! And publishable too, I reckon. Work with your owld Dad while you can, lass.
Very sweet – brought a bit of a tear to my eye reminding me of Northbrook Street Allotments & Linda & Adam. Ours was fab ‘cos it was right at the back of our house so we could a watch on all of them in case of “yoofs” getting up to no good.Couldn’t do it now though – not got the time OR the back …
Break a leg with it all x
we want more. We want more. We want more!
Hi Mandy
Great fun to read. How’s it going so far? My idea would be Landshare – give loads of people some land and profit from all their chickens, potatoes and so on as well as a great social life. I hope your Dad gets his blackcurrants. Very heart warming.
Hi
Lovely story – keep it going.
I need advice….
Whats the EASIEST way to pick blackcurrants please?
John
Thanks once again, all, for your comments. Emma, love the asparagus story. John, re blackcurrants, my Dad just breaks the whole stem off, which is undoubtedly the easiest way, though you do then have to contend with some green ‘uns and it’s wasteful if you haven’t got that many blackcurrants to start with. I am more picky, but it takes me AGES. Our bushes have turned out to be mainly redcurrants, which seem a lot easier to pick as you can just comb them off with your fingers and leave the stem intact. What do you do? Di, landshare sounds a wonderful idea. I’ll work on it!
Good for your dad and good for you too.
May I humbly suggest that if and as you reclaim bit by bit of the land you may want to plant some courgettes. Any fool, and by any fool I mean me, can grow courgettes. 4 plants will keep your county in courgettes for hte summer and even if the weeds overcome you (they do us every summer) and the carrots never appear (impossible damn vegetable) you will feel and share the success that is courgettes.
Enjoy.
Hi Mark, LOL about supplying the entire county! Really appreciate your advice, and love courgettes so will give it a try. Have you tried slicing them thinly and grilling them drizzled with olive oil and covered in parmesan cheese shavings? Mmmm….
My Dad gardened till he died at 91, Mandy and i never tired of going all the way from Bristol to central Scotland to discuss gardening with him. he had acid soil and I have alkaline and envied his azaleas and heathers while he envied my earlier spring – by a month. i am now 82 and my daughter has the same conditions as her grand-father in Northern Ireland. Your father sounds like he had a very thrifty upbringing. When I worked in Hull I found the Yorkshire people every bit as thrifty as the Scots. But do not count the cost of your fresh veg, you WILL grow in money but rather in taste, achievement, friendships and precious words f wisdom from your father.
Thank you, Marion. YOUR words of wisdom are much appreciated.
Mandy, you have to say yes ! You know you can never have too many blackcurrants !!
Too right, Jane! The statement ‘you can never have too many blackcurrants’ is even better than ‘you can never be too rich or too thin’.
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