Allotted time

Yesterday I wanted to go to the Comber Farmer’s Market (held once a month, I’ve never been before) and today I wanted to go to St. George’s Market in Belfast to check out a rug dealer I heard about who is there on Fridays. Both days I stuck to my knitting, meeting a series of deadlines and taking several phone interviews.

Late this afternoon I finally escaped and went to the allotments. Unfortunately I forgot my camera. The allotments are at the top of the hill we live on and they have a fantastic view of Strangford Lough and Belfast harbour. There are scores of little plots where gardeners have cute little sheds or greenhouses and grow blackcurrants, rhubarb, potatoes, flowers, strawberries, leeks, etc. I went up there to get eggs and Gordon the egg man showed me which shed had the eggs in a basket, available on an honour system. The shed is next to the coop where the hens are, so you don’t get much fresher.

I also learned that a lot of charities have allotments, giving their clients a pleasant place to work. It crossed my mind I could volunteer for one of these charities, giving me an excuse to hang out at the allotments. I keep postponing taking on a volunteer role because I could be off to London for a job at any time. But the months keep sliding by. Meantime I have an interview Monday for a job in Edinburgh. So, limbo.
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