It is what it is...
Making the packed lunches yesterday for the husband, son number two and myself yesterday (very sparse on the chicken front as you can imagine) I made a mental note to stop buying lettuce. This isn't because we've all of a sudden discovered more exciting green leaves (let's face it, rickets is more exciting than a shredded Little Gem) but because finally, we are starting to see the fruits of our labours in the allotment. I thought that you might like a little update on my bunting festooned patch of dirt now that the sun and rain have had the required effect on the seeds carelessly chucked in several weeks ago.
It's rather annoying how you don't remember lessons learned through life. Because I broke a rib last year, digging was off the agenda, so this year is only the second time I have thrown myself at the allotment with gusto (I go by the old life adage that if you throw enough s**t at a wall, then some of it will stick). Nowhere is this more true than in my allotment. But I had remembered nothing from two years ago. Mind you, I shouldn't be surprised at that, as even yesterday afternoon is a little vague.
Anyway, you might remember that the husband and I had decided to use the seed strips instead of spending money on expensive seedlings, and consequently, there were things we planted which I have never heard of, never bought or never eaten. All very exciting and adventurous I hear you say. But there is a problem.
When we planted all the seeds, I wrote down on plastic sticks what each row was. I used a Sharpie pen as we all know that where the ink is concerned, it ain't going nowhere. I'd even made sure that all the writing was facing the same way and the names were spelt correctly. OCD, you have a lot to answer for.
When the summer was here last week (That was it. It's now autumn) the husband and I strolled over to the allotment to water the dirt. Hopefully, there would now be some evidence of growth. As we got nearer, we could see the faint green fuzzy lines, but our joy turned to horror as we realised that the rain from the week before had beautifully washed off all of the writing on the plastic sticks.
The trouble is, until what's growing resembles something which I might see in the Tesco vegetable cabinets, then I won't have a clue what anything is. Also, as there are a couple of vegetables growing which I have never seen before, I'll have no idea when I have to dig them up. So I am considering pulling the sticks out, and re-writing 'F**k Knows' on each of them.
Just not with a Sharpie this time...