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".

Thigmomorphogenesis

Last year I put my climbing beans out too early and they froze... almost literally. With the health of my broad beans already precarious, I'm being cautious with all seedlings this year. A few warm days doesn't mean it's summer. Seedlings have taken over every window ledge, being hardened off on the balcony by day, inside by night.

I first read about Thigmomorphogenesis in Emma Cooper's The Alternative Kitchen Garden A-Z. It's the principle that plants grow differently when not exposed to the wind. So, if your seedlings can't be put out, blow on them and brush your fingers through them. It'll help them become stronger and stockier before they face the outside world.

Let Nature Take Its Course

The broad beans, sown in three stages for a lengthy crop, looked so promising. Then their leaves took on a new scalloped appearance. The diagnosis: Bean Weevil. I acted in haste. A too strong solution of washing up liquid was sprayed liberally, mid-day. Out burst the sun. The combination of burning rays and not diluting the solution properly severely scorched the leaves, damaging them more than the weevils would probably ever have. If you want to spray, wait until the cool of the evening, or do so in very early morning - it's also kinder to pollinators such as bees and butterflies who will be hard at work during the daytime. Without pollinators we could starve...

Cutting Edge at the Allotments

Grass paths and edges spilling on to your plot? Inspections about to take place? Don't ruin your neighbours' peace with the scream of a strimmer. This pocket-sized Swiss knife sharpener will fix your sheers, secateurs, scissors (and carving knife). An allotmenteer's must-have, so just click on the link. 4 friends have already put in orders after seeing mine.

Allotment Show(s) off

Moving plots in spring meant moving bulbs in full bud. I proceeded with some care, but they proved to be unmoved by moving. Bulbs are resilient and the proof of their adaptability was that three weeks later they won First Prize (a certificate, two gold stars and a coin) in London's oldest Horticultural Society Spring Show - Mixed Spring Flowers class. Don't forget to pop in a few anenome corms next autumn - or almost any time. I have best success with 'De Caen', the single flowers in a variety of vibrant colours. They will give you months of show, pick brilliantly, take up modest space and mine have survived two harsh winters scarcely bothering to bow their heads.

Crocuses in the allotments (and at Kew Gardens)

While I'm struggling to get the plot in order, I am awe-struck by the creativity of my plot neighbours. A & A have created a meandering crocus walk, feet from their veg. It may not be the Reader's Digest crocus carpet of 1.5 million crocuses at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew but it's just as magical.

You can't all visit our secret allotment haven, but you can visit Kew. Don't miss their crocus carpet - it's a real sight.

www.kew.org