My plot is big. So big, my house could fit into it twice over. I’d boast that it’s visible from space, but you can see everything from space these days.
Size has its advantages. I’ve ample space to host my long-term projects, so my manure (stop sniggering) can rot in peace in a quiet corner. I occasionally stumble across overgrown treasure as I navigate my territory, which makes for a nice – if painful – surprise.
However, a large spread demands time and attention. Right now I’m focusing my efforts on the front left quarter. Meanwhile brambles and nettles have joined forces and are invading the rear at an alarming pace. I’m stoically ignoring the attack, whilst I focus on the task in hand.
Truth be told, I’d prefer a smaller plot. You’ll often find me gazing longingly at the compact but pristine plot across the way. Still, you play the hand you’re dealt, don’t you?
A few months ago I read a post about Russian allotments. Blimey, those ruskies are serious about growing food. 600 square metres! That’s not a plot: that’s a ranch.
Now I’m inspired. All of a sudden size has newfound possibilities. A pond perhaps?