Which Path ?

I actually walked down to the allotment yesterday, and as I strolled along humming to my Ipod and wondering what people were laughing at, I got to thinking about paths. Now I know many of us ponder on where life will lead us, and which roads we will take in our quest for fulfilment, but it wasn’t anything as profound as that. No, it was the paths on the plot I was thinking about, and what I’m going to do with them this year.


The thing is, I think I’ve developed a bit of an O.C.D. problem with the allotment! Everything has to be in straight lines set in the four equal quadrants, and each plant will be measured out to the nearest inch. Even the shed has been lined up precisely to the four points of the compass, so much so that any practising Muslim would have no problem finding Mecca. I’ve told the wife about this and she is patiently waiting for the disorder to transfer itself to the house, bless her.

There’s only the paths left now to sort, not that they haven’t been precisely measured out, but the sides keep crumbling away and loosing that straight crisp edge that just looks so good, like a crease in your trousers. They need a more permanent surface, but shall it be paving slabs, bark chippings, or gravel.

There is, however, a major problem with all of these potential solutions… Expense. After all, I am a member of our Tight Wad Allotment Team, or T.W.A.T for short, as my wife kindly points out.

So what about grass, I thought? Can’t be more than a couple of quid for seed, in fact if I transplant some of the lawn from the front of the house, it would be even cheaper, though the divorce expenses might cancel that out.

Trouble is, how would I cut it? There’s no power for an electric mower, and the petrol one would be a pain to get there. Yes, I know what you’re thinking, what about one of those push along things, but have you ever tried one? Put it this way, I would happily be run over with one whilst sunbathing nude in the front garden, if there’s any grass left, and have no fear of loosing any of my appendages.

As I neared the plot I passed a field with some sheep in. Hmmm, now there’s a thought, if I could borrow one of these every couple of weeks, the problem would be sorted, but so would my vegetables, me thinks.

The one with the dyed hair and ear piercings looked cool, as the grand kids would say, and I half expected it to have an Ipod.

What would it have been listening to I wonder? “Ewe were made for me”, perhaps.

Showing my age now aren’t I. Think I’ll shut up!