The power of poo

All the boys decided to accompany me to the allotment on Sunday. Inexorably drawn by the power of poo.
"What are you going to do Mum?" was the question when I asked if anyone wanted to come with me. "Spread manure", was my reply.
"That's poo" explained oldest. Then they fell like dominoes. "I'll come", "I want to".
So we spread muck, dug for worms, filled some more of the bean trench with compost and youngest dug an enormous hole in my seedbed. I couldn't be cross though, it was a great effort.

OH conspired to tread on the rhubarb which had just poked it's head above the parapet - I'm hoping it will recover. It has as they say two chances - and luckily more than one shoot.

Brassica massacre

Well nearly.
Dropped by the plot today on the pretext of taking the boys out for a blow. (My Mum says that boys are like puppies need to be trained and exercised twice a day. She knows a lot my Mum...I'm working on the training.)

We went and lent on the fence and looked at what was growing.
Broad beans - check
Onions - check
Spinach beet - check
Broccoli?? I did net against birds but the slugs seem to have had their thermals on. Or would it be mice? Or is there a hole where a bunny is ambushing them? Ambush can't be the right word - broccoli is unlikely to run off.
Oh well hopefully about half seems to have survived.

At home we have now planted the shallots in modules, peas in toilet roll tubes, onion seeds and sweet peas in modules and I'm looking forward to a bit of digging when the weather warms up a little. It's the windchill plays havock with my dry skin don't you know...