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

New Year, New Plot…

After six and a half years on a former site, yesterday, January 1st 2017, was the first official day on our new plot.  The manager at the new site allowed us move and transfer a lot of our fruit bushes over the last 3 to 4 weeks, and yesterday saw us split and move some Timperley Early rhubarb crowns kindly gifted by our daughter who works a plot at this new location, whilst today we will split and move some of our own personal favourite from the old site, the Victoria stools we planted when we first arrived there; we shall leave nothing to the scavengers save their ignorance and loss.

We shall be very busy in the short term, clearing, cultivating and establishing our plans in our new location, and it shan’t take us too long at all to forget the utter filth, appalling practices and some very dangerous people at the old allotment site,,,so here’s to a brand new start in every way…

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Laying out the fruit run in the Monster’s new space..
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Moving the rhubarb to its new location, some compliments of Fee…

Midwinter Jazz

Gladiator Parsnips
Midwinter’s Harvest Christmas Parsnips up and out of bed…sown on St Patrick’s Day…
The final bounty of the year...
Parsnips from the Monster’s depths… The final bounty from the Monster’s old location…

Solstice Jazz

Blackbird trills dark hush of morn,
A carol to winter’s darkest day;
Straggler leaves still cling; forlorn,
The holly’s crown in disarray.

We’ve come full circle in our flight,
Our knowledge dimmed in knowing chorus.
Our hope rests now in promised light
                         On darkling wings, on berries bright,
                          In blackbird songs in the dead of night
And brighter days stretching before us.    ©      JK      December 21st 2016

 

Merry Christmas to all.  Our wish is that you periodically log in as we move forward with new chapters from the Monster’s brand new stomping ground throughout 2017….

 

 

The Monster’s New Face…

We’ve been somewhat quiet of late here on Monster In The Corner… a self-imposed reflective hiatus, busy considering and contemplating implications of recent experiences within our small allotment garden site.

We’ve reached a challenging decision that will see us once more expend a  hell of a lot of effort in pursuit of that same old dream, but, from here on in we will do so in a different location.

So without further ado  we’ve decided –like many others on our allotment site-to relocate the Monster’s award winning visage.

Life, we’ve decided, is too damn short for committee generated compost, and as has been stated in one of the Monster’s earlier dispatches, not everyone in the garden is a gardener, and from time immemorial it seems there have been serpents skulking in the grass…

et voiláThe Monster’s New Face…

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The Monster has a new face….