Get grounded at the allotments

It's impossible to avoid a certain election fever, but worrying about putting my climbing beans out too early (again), I hurried down to protect them from the cold this evening. L, my Portuguese plot neighbour, passed by. "Beautiful," he said as I created a fleece wall around them. "Here, Jo-waanna, have some of my Portuguese onions - they're bigger, better...my mother sent them to me...you must plant them soon." As I hurried back to my house guests, I bumped into L, my Greek allotment friend. "Joanne!" she exclaimed, throwing open her arms and kissing me on both cheeks before pushing me away. "You must go," she observed. "You are in a hurry." I left - via one of the many lilac trees that surround our plots - reminded of real life, of the generosity, diversity and companionship of allotments.

Dug in to labelling

I've tried labelling my plants before - used the wrong pen or pencil, eyesore labels or too small and they've disappeared. Given up. And then regretted not being able to identify the successes. Yesterday, browsing in the irresistible Garden Museum shop, I discovered handsome black garden labels which I bought as a present for a friend but within hours was using for my own plot! This is it. Smart, big, re-usable and the white marker claims my script will be "permanent until removed with white spirit".