Flighty’s plot

Shortly after posting my entry It wasn’t the children ! yesterday I received an email from the school’s head teacher.

He says something rather different to what his colleague told me on Tuesday, and what two plot holders saw happen on the day!

I’m not going to detail what he said but call me cynical as I’m guessing that he doesn’t want to involve Barclays and possibly jeopardise any support that it gives the school.

Anyway he’s made a generous gesture and offered me £50 worth of garden centre tokens.

I’ve accepted, and said that on receipt of them I’ll consider the matter closed.

I’d like to thank everyone who commented on my Not a good day ! entries here and there.

I’ve done a follow-on entry It wasn’t the children ! over on my MrFlighty blog.

Have a good weekend !

I always treat myself to a non-fiction hardback book for Christmas.

This year it was a really easy choice to make as all the reviews for have been first-rate.

The excellent Aeroplane Monthly magazine made it Book of the Month in the December issue, rating it five roundels which equals absolutely outstanding.

Real role models - the women pilots of WWII is a very good Philobiblon review.

Although it is an aviation book it is more about the women themselves and, as such, I’m sure will appeal to a much wider readership than just aviation buffs.

I look forward to settling down over the holiday period to read this book, with the help of a cup of tea and some biscuits of course!

As it was a nice morning I went for a walk round the allotments, then over to the Horticultural Society’s hut for a chat.

I approached my plot only to be dismayed at seeing that someone had been walking over part of it and much of the top eastern side has been badly trampled. It’s perhaps not quite as bad as it sounds but following a few days of wet weather the ground was soft so it does look a bit of a mess.

Talking to a couple of other plot holders I’m told that on Thursday a notable number of adults and young children were present on a nearby plot for much of the day. They were from a nearby special needs school. It appeared that the children were not being properly supervised and were seen on my plot and adjacent ones.

To find any kind of damage is bad enough but at least any done by animals, or even vandals, is understandable. This, though, is totally unacceptable.

I’ve sent an email complaint to the council person responsible for allotments, with copies to several others including the chief executive.

I spoke about this with the Horticultural Society’s Secretary and he said that he would also send an email expressing the concern of both myself and other members/plot holders.

I didn’t have the heart to go back after lunch to work on the plot so I’m sitting here fuming at what is totally irresponsible behaviour. My anger is more towards the adults apparent lack of supervision than the children’s actions.

My concern now is that nothing like this happens again, especially next year when if it does then the damage is likely to more considerable, possibly expensive and far more upsetting.

Thanks to this entry in Usksider’s Photo Blog I was reminded that National Tree Week started last Wednesday and continues through to Monday 3 December, which makes it a long week!

Google this and you will see that there are surprisingly few relevant references to this event. Of these this one looks to be one of the more informative.

All nature lovers have an affinity with trees as they are good to look at, provide food and homes for much of our wildlife and are a good, and popular, subject for photographers and poets.

This poem is appropriate for the time of year, as is the image.

A Whisper of Leaves by Margaret Ingall

The sound of the Autumn is soft as a sigh,

A whisper of leaves as a breeze passes by,

In colours bravura, both brilliant and bold,

She’s clad in red-russet, in pumpkin and gold.

Her perfume’s distinctive, of bonfire and smoke,

sharp as black leaf mould, and mellow as oak.

Her touch is of tree-bark, enduring and rough,

crisp as a corn stalk and conker-shell tough.

Her bounty is rich as the gown that she wears,

a tumble of berries, ripe apples and pears,

She pauses too briefly, then turning her face

abandons the world to the Winter’s embrace.

with my little eye a new three part Cold War spy thriller The Company which starts on BBC2 Saturday at 9.40 pm.

It’s based on Robert Littell’s excellent best selling novel of the same name which charts CIA activity through the wilderness of mirrors.

I’ve always enjoyed books, films and TV on this subject so it will make a welcome change for me to settle down and watch this over the next few weekends.

To everyone who’s celebrating it today Happy Thanksgiving!

The Age I Wish To Go Back To is a meme that Nikki tagged me to do recently. As I said in my comment I always drag my feet when doing these as I don’t like doing them very much.

I’m going to cheat slightly by not following the meme’s instructions and I’m also not going to tag anyone.

Having thought about my past, with it’s many highs and lows, I think that like Nikki I am as content now as I have ever been. That is due to two things.

One, not surprisingly is my allotment plot which has become such an significant part of my life over the past few months as is evident by my previous entry.

The other is blogging which is as important to me now as it ever was, even after nearly three years. I have no real close contact with family, friends or work colleagues. I don’t really mind as I’ve never been much of a socialiser, but that’s not to say that I prefer being a loner as I don’t. Blogging has given me good friends like Nikki, Daffy and a few others who now all mean a great deal to me.

Nikki said that she’d love to hear about my growing up years. She’ll obviously be disappointed that I haven’t obliged her this time. Having only ever done very few really personal entries and just the occasional recollection in comments it must be slightly infuriating not to know more about me.

All I will say is that if I ever run out of other things to blog about then just maybe you’ll get to read something about my past.

Mind you I’m not making any promises!

Nearly six month’s ago I did the first entry here on Flighty’s Plot and today the weather is just the same, only a lot colder!

I can look back on the intervening period with a great deal of pleasure and a real sense of pride.

The following photos were all taken earlier today, and which I hope give you an idea of what the plot now looks like.

This was taken from the roadway at the north-west corner.

Here’s the view in the opposite direction showing almost all the plot.

All my paths are wood chippings which were free, and are environmentally friendly. The area up to the path from the shed across to the grass pathway will be mostly for soft fruit, vegetables and a wild area. The area beyond that will be all flowers.

The soft fruit, a blackberry, six strawberries and nine raspberries, are in the area between the wooden box in front of the shed and the wood chip path, being visible as darker earth. The box is my compost heap, which is bigger, neater and less obtrusive than the previous one. Visible to the left of the picture is the pond

Once the grass has grown and the three lilies, one above pond, one on the left and the other not visible but to the left, have spread then hopefully it will fade into the background and not look like a washing up bowl!

Here’s my rosemary ,

the hawthorn tree which is six inches high,

an aquilegia(?) and the log

I want to thank everyone who has followed my allotmenteering exploits so far and commented so favourably on my progress.

A special thanks to Daffy who wrote this lovely poem

There was an aviation entry on a regular basis,

Until you discovered your own little oasis.

A place where you could set a seed.

A place to create and where birds could feed.

To start and grow from nothing at any rate.

A place where you could happily cultivate.

A place that is now in your heart to the core.

That very special place is Plot One Twenty Four.

by Christina Rossetti who is now considered to be one of the great Victorian poets. Few women from her time are acknowledged in the same way.

This poem heralds the onset of winter, and she remembers the warmth of summer days and the chills of autumn.

Summer is gone with all it’s roses,

Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,

Its warm air and refreshing showers:

And even Autumn closes.

Yea, Autumn’s chilly self is going,

And winter comes which is yet colder;

Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,

And the last buds cease blowing.

Today is Remembrance Day

We Shall Keep the Faith