Against my Godmother's wise counsel, I have smothered the weed infested growing area on the annexed allotment with yards and yards of black plastic. It would have made a gorgeous wedding dress for a goth.
My Godmother said I should be rather cunning and circumspect, and not tidy up the allotment too much in case the present incumbent returns and thinks 'oh good she's tidied it up and now it's much easier to maintain. I'll keep it.'
You see, I'm not the official tenant until March, when rent is paid. However, I am on the plotholder plans, and have had official sanction to tidy from one of the allotment officials. I found it impossible to resist, because I love creating order where there is chaos. Also it is the ideal time of year for clearing and structural work.
So, all the raised beds are now a pile of useful timber in one corner, and the land is a sea of black. It looks rather sombre, and is not a sight that lifts a pixie's heart. I'm thinking of painting big flowers all over it. The original allotment has a similar appearance, only there it is a river of black bordered by grass.
It is strange how the black over the land seems to affect my spirits. I'm recalling all the trials I had this year with pests and disease, and how hard it was to dig the land. Maybe it's just SAD. I think massive flowers painted over the black will get me through the winter, and may be a magickal way of encouraging fertility. My soil needs all the help it can get.
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