Come share my lettuce

I know it's been a while. I can't claim to have been overly busy or side-tracked in any way, but it seems to be turning into the kind of summer I remember from my childhood. One filled with interesting little diversions, friends, long hot late evenings outside and cricket. Since I left the long school holidays of 'playing out', I can't recall being so aware of the season or the weather; and it's all down to P28 and the creak and groan of growing plants and swelling veggies. The good stuff is starting to hit the plate thick and fast now. Last night I managed to make a curry that had almost all been grown on the plot and it was all the better for it. But the biggest and best use I've found so far for all this greengrocery is a simpler one...to give it away.

You're probably thinking that I've completely 'hippied out' and it's only a matter of time until I crochet my own kaftan and found the allotmenteering commune, but that's not where this is going. I didn't realise until now just what a huge part sharing has to play in the whole allotment thing. The fact of the matter is, that for every one parsnip I can dig up and bring home, I'm just as likely to be offered two by my neighbours on P1 to P60. And just like them, I've been madly introducing my growing colleagues to the wonders of Swiss Chard and the taste of my shallots. Why all this give and take? The answer is one of pride in achievement and the sure and certain knowledge that none of this can be owned, just enjoyed...and shared.

A high point for me so far has been the chance to share P28 with my main Aussie homies, Nick and Meg. I love them to pieces, but the main reason it's been a high point is another reciprocation; another sharing thing. When P28 and I first became acquainted, (me a not-so-green-fingered-greenhorn and P28 a wasteland of brambles and nettles), Nick and Meg were the first folks who came down to see it. I've never known anyone be as enthusiastic as Nick about the back-breaking prospect of a summer's digging, even if it is your mate that's got to dig while you fly back to a New South Wales spring spent on the beach. This wasn't anything as mean-spirited or everyday as mere schadenfreude. This was the genuine joy of knowing what was to come and that your mate is going to share in that knowledge. Before he'd landed in Sydney, I'd received my Amazon gift-bound copy of a guide to Permaculture. Over the months of toil and grind, I couldn't help thinking about Nick and Meg and how much I wanted to please them when they came back to Blighty. It's the little things that keep you digging in the pissing rain.

And so it came to pass. A couple of weeks ago we all went down the plot and sank a few bevvies, nibbled on a few peas and grinned. We'll do it again next week, before they fly off again for another NSW spring on the beach. This time I've promised a bit of shed-cookery. We'll take some photos and maybe a little video too. You know, so that you can share too. 'Veggie Porn', that's what Nick calls allotment photography. Maybe it's not such a healthy obsession after all. Still, too late now. Anyone want to share these broad beans?