Our poetic-hearted Gerry has come up with another literary parallel for our allotment lives:-
After Apple PickingMy long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still.
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples; I am drowsing off.
I cannot shake the shimmer from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the water-trough,
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and reappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
And I keep hearing from the cellar-bin
That rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking; I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall,
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised, or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.
Robert Frost
Thanks for the turkey Roger. My son-in-law declared it to be the best-tasting turkey ever!
Lots of largesse on display down the plots this week. Look at the size of that turnip, says Damien, take that one with you! You'll have to top and tail these beans, advises Gerry, there you go. And Tomato King Mark shoves this lot over to me - and the same amount for Kevin! Thanks a heap, fellas, much obliged. If you're wondering how the Golden Wonders might taste, wonder no more, cominatcha!
Noticed this original dining suite yesterday down the line from me. Ingenuity or wha?
Well that's that. We munched our way through all the Sharpe's Express, steamed right on through the Queens and fretted nightly about the fate of the Wonders and Pinks. All over now. Clipped all the haulm yesterday and threw a bit of clay over the drills. A fortnight now till we lift them. Let us pray.
Our poetic-hearted Gerry has come up with another literary parallel for our allotment lives:-
My Sungold tomatoes have been changing colour over the past week. Must be ready so. Going to chance one tomorrow.
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