I got to the allotment this morning just as it was starting to rain and Ali, my neighbour was trying to decide whether or not to use the hose on her plot as the ground was so dry. The rain didn't seem to be having much effect at that stage. After about half an hour Andy from 'across the way' turned up with his two kids and very white dog.
I got on with clearing bindweed, watered my sweetcorn and, having released some bricks from bed three, finally got down to covering bed five with black plastic. As all this was going on the rain was getting harder and harder. Ali left, quickly followed by Andy and his brood and all the other allotmenteers, leaving me with the rain running into my pants, digging away.
After I realised that every inch of me was soaked to the skin, I also gave up and went home. I stood on the doorstep dripping and called to Nigel to help me get out of my clothes. His retort was "On a Sunday? What would the vicar say"!
A hot shower and hot breakfast (pictured on Nigel's blog) later I felt back to normal.
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