WHISPERING SMITH: “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?” (Percy B. Shelley)

AH, spring and an allotment. About 18 months ago, following a two-year wait, I was allocated a five-rod plot on a local allotment site. My life changed that autumn.

The plot was a wilderness, knee-high in weeds. I dug, raked, manured and then dug it again. I planted it in the spring and ate beans, beans, beans throughout the summer!

Didn’t know much about gardening, but was blessed with a long-time gardener on either side. Trust me, allotment holders, especially LA diggers, are not short on giving advice! Some of it was good, but much, I suspect, may have been a leg-pull – that’s LA humour for you!

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Marigolds planted among the beans did keep the blackfly out, that was good advice, but the mole problem? Well, maybe not! “Human urine. . .” would keep them at bay, suggested Gordon on the left, whilst from Norman, on the right, came: “Mothballs – the only real answer to moles.”

Well, the mothballs worked a treat when I eventually tracked some down, but the other advice, not so much. The problem may have been in the delivery system but whatever it was, mothballs are more dignified!

They may be a wind-up crew but I wouldn’t want it any other way and I have learned a lot. I am told there is still a six to 12-month waiting list and it is sad to see a few wastelands still up there and a couple quite obviously abandoned.

To keep a plot going does require a great deal of time and energy and, although they have made changes to their policing, I feel a more rigorous approach is still needed from the town council to ensure that every square foot is tidy, loved and productive.

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GRUMPLINESS IS NOT A REAL WORD. OR IS IT? Well , it is now! Judging from the comments received after the first column, LA might well be the grumpliness capital of the world – nice thing is that all additional grumps proffered to me over the week were delivered with a smile.

Dogs, litter and potholes were right up there, with mobile phones very close behind, not the actual device itself, you understand, but rather its misuse by the users themselves.

Apart from invasive ring tones, or loud, trivial conversations shared with a disinterested audience in a no-escape location like a train carriage, the main grump was at those who take a mobile call while at check-outs in supermarkets, the booking office of the railway station or anywhere with a queue.

Now that is just bad manners and gets my vote as grumple of the month!

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TIME, IF ONLY... I’m sitting in the LA Sainsbury’s café people-watching, drinking tea and playing Scrabble on my iPhone and my attention is drawn towards the store entrance and the steady stream of people coming through the doorway and into the toilets.

Someone I know goes in and I wait for him to come out to say hello – but he doesn’t appear. I pay closer attention and begin to see a pattern. Not everyone going in comes out and some come out looking very different to when they went in! A time portal in the Sainsbury’s café?

After all, it is opposite The Dolphin pub, said to be totally haunted, and there is a certain timelessness about parts of LA. Or, just maybe, I was distracted from time to time by the iPhone game...