I've been trying to remember when I first decided that I wanted an allotment.
I can remember trying to find a suitable plot when I was first married in 1986. Maybe it was then?
No, hang on, dad had an allotment back in the 70s. Was that it?
Ah no, I remember - it was Grandad's allotment! I vividly remember going to visit it with my sister when I was a toddler, and spending most of the time eating the peas straight off the plant. They were just delicious, I still love them now though it's a long time since I had them as fresh. Grandad also had two greenhouses - one on the allotment for growing tomatoes, and the other in his back garden which had a vine in it. I don't remember the vine ever producing any fruit, but I suppose it must have done at some point. I'm sure he grew lots of other lovely stuff on his allotment, but I only remember potatoes and, of course, those peas.
Grandad was a miner, like most of the men in Tyneside at that time. And like his marras (Geordie for 'mates', nothing to do with overlarge courgettes), he had his allotment which was his refuge from the grind of spending his life breathing in coal dust in a tiny tunnel many hundreds of feet underground. In fact, the pit he worked at, The Rising Sun, eventually reached a depth of 769 ft 5 inches making it one of the deepest in Europe at that time. I can't conceive of what his working life must have been like, but I'm sure he relished the time spent in the fresh air of his allotment.
Dad wasn't a miner, but like my Grandad he always wanted an allotment. They were harder to come by by then so he waited several years before he was offered one. He took it on with his brother-in-law Jimmy, but they didn't last much more than a season, I suspect because they both worked full time and had young families and, unlike my Grandad, their wives both worked too. That really doesn't leave much time for an allotment.
Fast forward to 1986 when I first started looking for my own allotment. Like my dad, I quickly realised that working full time, with a partner who also worked full time, meant I just didn't have the time for one. So I sat on my dream until 2020. Husband is now (thankfully) out of the picture, daughter is working and living independently, and I'm now working part time. What the hell, I thought, let's put my name down, I'll probably be retired by the time I get it anyway.
They said the waiting list would be three years, which indeed it was, but I'm still not retired, and doubt I will be soon, but I have dreamed and waited so long that no way was I going to refuse one now, particularly as my lovely friend and long-time allotment holder in her own right Sue will be working the plot with me.
Another added complication is that I was diagnosed with hip arthritis earlier this year and am now on the waiting list for an operation. HOWEVER - I've been really really good and have followed all the exercise advice for hip arthritis. I started doing physio exercises, moved on to personal trainer sessions and am now doing regular aquafit (which is way harder than it looks). Despite the dodgy hip I'm actually in the best physical shape I've been in for years - I'm stronger, more flexible and have less pain than I dreamed possible. So no, I'm not scared about the allotment and yes, I will be doing as much digging as I can. And you never know, I might not even have the surgery!
So that's where I am now. Have a wander over to my allotment blog and you can watch our progress, with all our mistakes, successes and, I'm sure, abject failures. But I don't care - it's OUR ALLOTMENT!
