The last few weeks, I've noticed that walking the path that leads to my lottie is like walking into a different time, there's no traffic noise, no kids shouting (unless I've brought mine and nicola's brought hers ;-D ) there's nothing but old cottages, people smiling, without a care in the world, who are geniunely interested when they ask you how your day is. People want to help, people do help, for no other reason than that, to help! I always imagine that growing up 50, 60, 70 years ago would be just like that, like walking into my allotment. If you could bottle the feeling, the complete relaxation, you'd be a millionaire.
I went to the allotment last night to water the plants in, (anyone else ready to do a rain dance yet? It's getting desperate already and were only in April!!) and I noticed that old Bill had been and piled me a load of manure next to my compost bin. What a lovely man, I know it must have been him as I asked him the other day how to get my hands on some for my rhubarb crowns, that I want to get in. I just shows doesn't it, how different things really are down there. It's like my very own Narnia :)Have since found out that it was David and Janet who got the manure onto my allotment, they are so nice, I'm blessed with lovely neighbours :)
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