By This Time Next Year

We have much to do that needs doing on our new plot, and much to say regarding the decision to leave behind all the effort of the last seven years at our former plot; but, we’ll concentrate solely on the doing.
We’ll take a leaf from Davina McCall’s New Year’s approach to life’s challenges, and simply say that by This Time Next Year the Monster shall be a transformed creature.
At present we feel somewhat akin to Eliot’s journeying Maji, having decided on quite the worst time of year for such an undertaking, but, just as with those ancient sages the prize shall be worth it, and also by way of acknowledging the day that is of course…
At the moment, and while winter dormancy allows, we are busy transferring all our fruit trees and bushes from one allotment to our new plot located 5 miles away. The weather has remained favourable enough for the time of year, but the car will need a professional valet after the move is completed.
Currently we have one foot stuck in the old with the other foot finding its way in the new, and while not in any way drawing comparison with Shakespeare’s descriptive prowess of the mighty Julius, it strikes me –Cassius-like that is- that we …perhaps…

bestride this narrow world, Colossus like,
and beneath us crawl some petty lot,
peeping out from that shadow cast
to dig graves on their dishonourable plot…        

                                           Yes. That’ll do Pig.

with apologies for liberties taken

With courtesy nods of course to TS Eliot, William Shakespeare and Dick King-Smith

The Monster's New herb bed

The Monster’s New herb bed

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