The Good (Allotment) Life

The Good (Allotment) Life

I’ll tell you all a cautionary tale,

If you’ll just give me some pardon,

Of how I dug out an allotment,

Down at the end of my garden.

The patch was all covered in weeds,

And at first I started to panic,

But you can’t let things stand in your way,

If you’re set on a life more organic.

So I rotavated and weeded and dug,

And laid the jungle all to a waste.

All this in pursuit of some veggies,

And produce superior of taste.

The effort I put in was enormous,

What with much raking & tilling.

Every day I was quite knackered,

But I found it strangely fulfilling.

And when I’d got it laid out quite flat,

There was still the marking & hoeing.

There seemed so much I’d still got to do,

And I hadn’t even started the sowing.

Then it all had to be fertilised:

Compost, manure, whatever you call it -

But the man on the farm where I went,

Just said I should call it horse-shit.

I carried it and tipped it onto the patch;

I dug it all in and then sat.

Only to discover I’d created a toilet,

Mostly for the use of our cat.

So I raked it all over once more,

And then had to do some light weeding.

Then, at last, after weeks of effort,

I finally got to the seeding.

Beetroot, pumpkins and potatoes:

I went at it quite maddish.

Courgettes & beans all in a row,

And in the corner – some radish.

I planted out carrots, potatoes & peas,

Some caulis, cabbage and kale,

And I looked out on it so proudly -

How could it possibly fail?

I soon found out there were problems:

For as soon as I’d worked off my nadgers,

The beautiful crops that were growing,

Had just become fast food for the badgers.

The crops were under attack night & day,

Although I was clean in my habits.

For as soon as the lettuces came up,

It was feeding time for the rabbits.

Pigeons, mice and slugs all attacked me:

I tried to drive out their tails,

But they all seemed to get past me,

To say nothing of squash-eating snails.

I ranted & raved in frustration,

And scared them away with my shouts.

Well – you have to do something,

If you’re going to hang on to your sprouts.

Bad weather then came down upon me,

As I struggled with every means.

It’s a lot of effort to go to,

Just so I can freshly eat beans.

But now I’ve got my freezer full,

After working and busting my gut,

For after the initial famine,

I find I’m now facing a glut.

So I’d just like to say in my summary,

It’s very well trying to live The Good Life.

But there must be easier ways to get by,

Than feeding all of the local wild-life.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013