Friday, January 31, 2014

Withdrawal Symptoms

I have a cold, and Im blaming it on the weather.  Not because of the weather itself, but because it has conspired to keep me from the allotment.  Last weekend was cold and squally and wet.  I got some leek and tomato seedlings potted on at home, but that was all.  I had today booked off work, but the forecast was for some sort of monsoon storm.  It rained all morning and although I was near enough to the allotment, it was still grey and cold and miserable.  I turned towards home....and lo, the sun came out!  I did a quick U-turn and headed out to the plot, along the recently-flooded sea road over bumps of seaweed and debris.  The tides are very high at the moment and Dublin has tidal flood warnings in place all week.



The weather gave me a window - 25 minutes to be exact, just long enough to do a few jobs.  The whole allotment site is extremely wet and muddy, with huge puddles.  On my own plot, the water butt was overflowing and soaking the ground around it, so I spent 10 minutes rejigging the gutter fitting for diverting water once its full.  I taped up some slits in the polytunnel - it's four and a half years up now, and starting to show its age.  Then I pulled up some leeks and picked some kale, before being driven into the poly by a ferocious pelting of sleety rain.  I took the hint, and as soon as it went off a bit I headed for home.



The weather tomorrow looks particularly stormy, and I have another engagement on Sunday, so that's it for this week.  Next weekend Im away to London to visit friends.  Add into the equation that I start back to college next week, for three evenings a week, and that Im starting a new role in my workplace on Monday week, and it looks like it will be a while before I can visit again.

Still, its not all doom and gloom.  Its bright now until a quarter past five, and by mid February that will have stretched out to 6 oclock.  That will be just bright enough for a flying visit after work, if I leave at four and somehow have an evening free.  By the end of February, that will be half six, an unimaginable improvement at the moment.  Roll on. 

In the meantime, I must be content to plot and plan, to watch the crocus fronds pushing up in the back yard, and to stare at the propagator each morning.  I never get bored of watching seedlings emerge doubled up from the soil, still clutching their seed husk, and slowly stretch their necks and throw their arms wide as if to sayTa-dah!  Im here. I made it!.

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