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What a great year for onions. They're already a vast improvement on last season's crappy, mildewy crop.
Still no rain – hence the good onions. Three weeks since the last drop. With a watering can, I simply can't keep up (under-65s aren't allowed hosepipes on our plot).
It's great having a 100 sq m allotment... until drought strikes. Anyone else suffering?
The celeriac I put out in April is a bit iffy. The plants got black fly in early May. Then they got celery leaf miner. By the time I noticed, they'd already been set back.
The trouble with celeriac is that it needs a lot of water. I'm now sloshing the stuff all over it every evening after work and I'm going bananas. In the south east, it's got very dry.
I know I'm going to regret this, but here goes.
Dear God: Please send rain.
I took this photo to deceive you. It wasn't easy finding an angle that hid the truth... which is that these okra are shit.
But my conscience hurts, so here are the facts.
Confession 1: These aren't the okra plants I grew from seed. Those died. Why? Haven't a clue. They just keeled over one day. The bastards.
Confession 2: I didn't even grow these myself. They were kindly donated by an allotment colleague.
Confession 3: I planted them out without hardening them off. So they immediately wilted and have barely recovered.
So okra has been an oustanding Soilman success story. Not.
Parsnips look good. Just as well, given the aggro of getting them to seedling size.
I do wonder every year why I bother. I mean, I don't even like them that much.
Come to think of it, I don't like squashes or courgettes much, either. Yet I grow them religiously every season.
Anyone else daft enough to be growing veg they don't even like? Or does this mark me out as a terminal sadster?
Lilies. That's how you know summer's finally here. Hurrah.
Other signs of summer:
No squashes either. The buggers are dying, and it's all my fault for planting them in uncomposted manure. An amateur mistake, and a blindingly stupid one. I am an utter dunce and I deserve a kicking.
Please, please: Kick me. You know it makes sense.
... the Lord has made me wait a bloody long time.
Thought they'd never be ready. This is the latest I've ever dug the first potato plant. Two seasons back, we had our first spuds in mid May.
When they're small, they're perfectly delicious. Boiled with mint and served simply with butter and parsley, new potatoes are one of the great gastronomic treats.
The mere thought has got me slavering. Excuse me while I nip off and cook these...
Slow and painful progress with the courgette. I'm only growing the one (can't face the terrifying glut – I'm growing squashes instead), and it's coming on very slowly. Admittedly, I was late sowing. But courgettes are usually so keen to get cracking.
I fear I've upset it by planting in neat farmyard manure – barely composted. It may not relish this. I know I don't: the stink is outrageous.
If I do get a courgette this year, the wife probably won't let it in the house.
When I began this allotment blog I worried I'd repeat myself. In nature, after all, much the same stuff happens at much the same time every year. It IS fairly predictable.
And yet... it's not.
Take these onions, for instance. I was convinced they'd have downy mildew by now - as they do every year, to a greater or lesser extent.
But they don't. And that's got me even more worried than if they had. Because for me, onions and mildew are inseparable partners. Like strawberries and cream, or Pete Doherty and heroin.
Whatever next? Cabbages without slugs? Carrots without carrot fly?
