A very fast trip out to the allotment to deliver my first seedlings. I had to put the nasturtiums and sweet peas into the cold frame to toughen them up (and hopefully not kill them outright) before planting starts in earnest next month.  It felt very spring-like out there. I was tempted to do the peas, but I really didn’t have time. I was house hunting in Primrose Hill and Hampstead for an investment apartment, and had to race back to South Kensington before dark.  I have promised however to go and have a weeding day out there before the weeds start to take over again. And I will definitely positively put in the peas. A row at least. First there is the small matter of going out to the Drôme and doing a bit more country house hunting. Two property areas in just one week. I’m turning into a property developer.

It’s sunny and mild yet again, so I donned my heavy duty mud-protector clothing and headed out to the allotment. Well, first I stopped by the garden centre and scooped up six 80 litre sacks of mini bark chips. Gad they are heavy. I heaved and hauled and wheeled the mighty trolley to the check out (they are blissfully cheap compared to so many other things related to gardening) and then to the car. That was my weight lifting task for the day I thought (hah!)

Out to the allotment, and the only car was Mick’s in the car park – in fact he was pacing about as I went through the tedious procedure of locking and unlocking the gate. It transpired that he was waiting for some of his Irish mates to help him rebuild the fence. A lot of the fence around the site blew down last month and the council refuse to fix it (no money). So everyone has to pitch in and help. And I wasn’t spared. As no-one had turned up I was called upon to lift up one end of a fallen panel and try and slot it into place next to the other panels. Mick would then cement in the posts. It’s times like these that I am grateful my sport is rock climbing and not chess. You just have to be one of the boys and get stuck in. The trick was to get this huge panel over the muddy and rough ground and try not to fall into the hole dug for the posts. We did it and I felt inordinately proud. But then two other strong men arrived and I was able to slink off and get to my bark chips.

But that wasn’t the end of the heavy lifting. Just beyond my plot on the left hand side is a house with very large tall trees that actually shade my shed and the bottom part of all our gardens. And hurrah, they were cutting them down. First they did all the branches and greenery, and today it was chain saw city. But for once I didn’t bemoan the loss of trees or the din of four men at work with saws and a little tractor to take out the trunks. They were very chatty and told me that they hoped I didn’t mind but they had chipped the branches from my fallen down pine tree for me. Mind? I was delighted. And I hoped and hinted that they would take the small base that was left behind (we shall see next week).

What happened to all the bark chips I politely enquired? Oh we dumped them all in the car park for everyone to use. (I just didn’t notice the mountain of the stuff as I was pounced upon by Mick asking for help with the fence.) Free bark chips. Oh the irony. Mick chortled away seeing my car full of the ones from the shop and here I was able to take them for free. They are very fresh mind you, and will need to cure a bit. But they are perfect for my paths. So instead of any gardening plans today, it was out with the wheelbarrow and on and on with transporting bark chips.

That will teach me. Had I been there yesterday I could have asked the men to dump the chips right on my plot; instead I had to do 14 trips to and fro along the path. Plus three heavy trips to the car for the heavy bought ones. But it’s all character building.

And just to accompany these musings about my character, the plot looks like a building site too. Piles and piles of lovely chips just waiting to be spread into their final position. It was warm work but the knowledge that they were free made it a bit easier. Even Rino came and had a look. ‘Free? Are you sure?’ He was sceptical that anything was being given away – but I finally convinced him. I hope there will be some left for him tomorrow, as the word did start to spread.

Flowering news? I have lovely hellebores flowering in their pots. The one I use as a door stop for my shed is in full flower – about 10 blooms of crimson flowers all nodding and hiding shyly among the foliage. I am tempted to cut them and bring them home, but it’s so tricky to get them to sit up proud in the vase (splitting the stems and plunging them in boiling water for a few seconds) that I may just leave them where they are.

My cold frame is working well. I have around 10 broad beans sprouting in their pots. And two sprouting in the ground which is a bit of a thrill (I had to peer carefully at the earth and see where they should be). The mice and the slugs have overlooked their quarry for once.

It’s too wet to dig much even though I want to do the peas; in fact it’s back to swimming pool consistency again, but things are looking rich and clumpy and ripe for work.

Valentine’s Day: and what better thing to do today than start off the year of sowings. (Well, David did give me an extravagant box of chocolates that are calling out to be scoffed – but it is only breakfast time, so I shall have to hold off.)  I do so love this little project. I had dreamed that one day I could stand in a green house and do this, but right now it’s another dining table, the tweezers, the pots, the box of seeds and the deft attempt to keep all things neat.  I have planted four jiffy pots each of basil, brocoletto, tomato marmande, tomato gardener’s delight and Fasold climbing French beans. In another box I have two nasturtiums sprouting like mad, two sweet peas leaping upwards, and two sweet peas sulking like mad in their soggy toilet rolls.  They are in a natty little green box and will go right next to the window here at my desk.

It’s too wet to go allotmenting today and I don’t think I will get up there until Friday or next Tuesday. I want to get the ground ready for the peas. To my joy I have discovered that I can actually plant them this month. I always start too early on so many things. But peas are ripe for planting. Should I soak them in paraffin first to deter mice? If I can find paraffin.

I have been able to watch some vegetable gardening programmes on TV lately and had that pang of seeing the presenter being able to walk outside the house and to the plot bursting with produce. Taking on this French house project does mean that I will have to postpone that idea for a while. And the commuting to the allotment will definitely pall in a few months time.

I couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about one of the houses I saw in the Drôme last month. I really thought that I wasn’t going to get the chance to get a second look at it as it was going to be snapped up. It’s next to the amazing village of Mirmande and was a former cherry and apricot farm. The farmer pulled up the trees and now there is just a flat expanse of five acres of garden. Am I mad? You aren’t really supposed to go from window box to half an allotment plot to five acres in just three years; but I have this lust for land that cannot be assuaged.  But the house needs work and the price is way up at the top end of our budget already. It all comes down to David when he visits next week. Will he feel the same? I have already tempted him by saying that the size of the grounds are the equivalent of three rugby pitches, but we will see.

See that’s what happens with this house hunting, you spend more time day dreaming rather than getting on with Real Life. And real life for me are the curse of slugs. I am going to do the beer traps this year. That was something I saw on the gardening programme this week (David was away on a trip and I had an illicit half hour watching Carol Klein enthuse about first time vegetable gardeners.)  I’ve never seen them in action and they may just help me when I plant out seedlings. That and the oatmeal round the base of the plants, and maybe even the organic slug pellets. But I still resist that last resort.

I have the strimmer (ordered over the internet, lost by the courier company, found again, delivered after about five days delay – it’s still in the box downstairs and I haven’t even taken a peek.  I have the feeling that you aren’t supposed to cut grass when the weather is cold but it has to be cut sometime and soon. All those juicy slugs are lurking in that long grass.

I have the cold weather, its pouring with rain and I’d love to go up to the allotment and get something done. The house is full of chitting potatoes, and the first sweet peas and little nasturtium seeds have sprouted. They are sitting in toilet roll holders (don’t have enough plastic root trainers) just next to the window below my desk here. So lovely to see seeds growing again – I love spring.  I have another shopping list of things buy back at the garden centre. But time is not on my side. Have to do Tarzan work. So it’s off to the Pitt Rivers museum in Oxford tomorrow, and other things to take up my time this week.

Oh yes, and I have all my seeds in their nifty box and they are snug in the fridge, just waiting for me to work out when I need to plant them.

I hadn’t planned to go up again today but I need to dash up and do the garlic. The bulbs need cold to get going – and we just haven’t had the weather. But listening in bed this morning to the weather forecast there was glee in the voice of the presenter – frost tonight; and cold next week. Hurrah. My garlic may just have a chance. So if I go now, I will have time to put them in, race back, do my Greenland script work, sort my office, go and get my laptop (having software installed), photocopy pictures of Mary Kingsley for the Tarzan script project, learn how to drive the scanner, learn how to set up a website to place the pictures on the website, and then have tea with Sally back in Primrose Hill. All the while not looking a my just arrived copy of Grow Your Own magazine that is begging attention, and the packets of seeds in the cupboard which need to be sorted and placed in their special anti- mouse box.

Later. Well the garlic is in and it took a lot more time that I thought as I had to place the weed proof plastic over first. I’m short of those clever long metal pegs. So I had to nick them from other parts of the plot that seem more stable. But the concept looks fine. Mine is a big lumpy mind you. I suspect the soil should have been perfectly raked and groomed before I covered it up, but I didn’t manage it. I’m still at the lumpy clump soil right now. And I didn’t have a sharp knife to cut clever holes in the fabric to place the garlic cloves in. But I struggled on. I think it will be easier when it comes to planting seedlings. I did three rows. Goodness only knows what I was thinking. But I bought the packets and it seems a shame not to plant every bulb. And I even put in three of those odd elephant garlic bulbs too. Mice will probably chomp the lot – or the slugs will have an uninterrupted go at them hidden under the protective layer. But at least it’s worth a try. I don’t want to have another year of weeding like the last. Especially as it’s now further to drive and I may even be in France tending to my trees.

A day of good intentions – and great shopping. Oh, Homebase garden centre, boy did it get my custom. I stopped off there on my way to the allotment and bought up big. Lots of mini bark chips, two grow bags for the future tomatoes, planks of wood, pots, a Perspex sheet for the cold frame, more pegs, two sheets of ground cover; was that it? I could have done more but the boot was full from all the bark chips.

I was doing all the wheelbarrow unloading of the stuff from car to plot (a slippery ride in winter where the water and the clay seem to combine to create a skating rink rather than a grass path) when I ran into David Raeburn, the Plot Secretary. So that saved me a phone call. And I have asked for the whole plot. He hasn’t scoffed and said ‘not a chance’. But he needs to consult with the absent Jana for permission. And then he went on and on about the issue of the shed. But that’s not his fault, because Janet rang him the night before and went on and on about the issue of the shed. I had my toes braced for the worst when I asked just how much I’m going to have to shell out to keep the two Italian men from taking it away. And the amount? £30. A paltry amount for a whole year of grief. (Jana was supposed to pay them for it, but didn’t and I inherit the debt.) I’d be delighted to pay. I hate the idea of bad feeling on the site. And it’s cheap compared to what I would have to shell out for a new shed. Mind you – the new one would actually have a lock and I could probably have a chance at a floor covering that isn’t sick yellow lino. We shall see.

All this talking and musing on the shed meant that there was little time for actual gardening. And this was to be my whole day out. It wasn’t raining and it wasn’t windy and I wasn’t too plagued by visitors. But I seemed to achieve so little compared to this time last year. Maybe I know to pace myself better now. Weeding just 10 feet by 10 feet creates interesting back ache and shooting pains. But I did that much and it looks gorgeous. When I raked it over it almost looked like a garden plot. I weeded the bean plot (how did those little weed seedlings get there? I just weeded last week) and then decided that this year it’s mulch year. And I don’t care how hideous it looks (that’s where bark chips will come in) it has to be done. So I’m going to cover bits with black weed proof material, pin it down, and then cut little holes in the plastic and plant the seedlings in there. In neat rows too. And then pile lots of bark chip mulch on top.

And just to complete my afternoon of good intentions I created a cheap but cheerful cold frame. Three plastic document boxes covered over by a big sheet of the newly purchased Perspex. Pot on top to hold it on and the broad beans are snug and hopefully helped on their way to germination.