It’s all been happening this weekend. A party at the plot. Sadly I’ve missed pretty much all coverage of Glastonbury. I’m hoping there will be lots to catch up with on Iplayer. Especially Chic, Laura Mvula, Vampire Weekend, Billy Bragg, yeah, I’ll give you that last one seems a bit at odds, but his latest album hits the mark. There will be no Mumford and Sons or The Rolley Stones. Not my bag.
So Queenie got a great deal of ‘socialisation’ in last night. There was loud clapping, dancing by over 50s, cheering, boozing, laughing, kids…anything you can throw at a puppy in one fell swoop. And previously in the day she checked out the Mancunian public transport system too. She’s going to be one sociable doggy.
The cusp. That’s how I’d describe the plot at the moment. Strawberries itching to rippen, along with the juicy gooseberries which had to be netted. Broadbeans about to bloom in their pillowy pods. And grown for their pretty purple flowers. Onions are bolting. Cornflowers and calendula quite content nestling amongst the Jerusalem Fartichokes.
Victoria plums, bloody ploughman, katy, pitmaston pineapple and ribbstone pippin all bearing mini fruit weeks away from reaching the table. Or the gob. Greedy girl gets excited.