Well hello me ole chums.

Back again having spent a little teeny -weeny bit of my day up on the ole allotment.

A fierce-some day though for my personal development and hopefully yours too as you read this confession.

For confession it surely is. Having made friendly greetings with one or two of my fellow ‘allotmenteers’.

I proceeded to deal with those hostile brambles and nettles which have suddenly become a regular feature in my ole life. Chopping and swishing and pulling and tumbling and digging and scratching I was having the time of my life I can tell you. But within minutes of good-naturedly attacking these formidable opponents and tossing them onto a rather wonderful bonfire that we had made, what do I hear emanating from across the ridge but a chain saw and strimmer in violent ear-splitting action.

As you are aware from my last allotment missive the very essence of allotment life is the peace and tranquillity it affords. Not today though me ole chums. Some heretic whose form I could just make out fifty or so yards away was wielding these violent and extremely noisy machines around, oblivious to the total destruction of my fragile tranquillity. Now I don’t think I mentioned that earlier in the allotment process I had been given a whole earful of do’s and don’ts as per some dreary email. Who needs ‘allotment-rules’. In this current situation however, I now did an about-turn and somehow felt a sense of injury about there being nothing in the rules about the prevention of noise pollution. And as you are also fully aware my whole raisin d’etre is to engage in a warm and friendly, yes and helpful fashion in all areas of my life. However, I had immediate visions of myself tearing up to this heretic and committing a whole series of horrific offences against his person. Before I knew it the Long Itchington chain saw massacre was playing out before me and I, a delighted onlooker. Thank Skrivions I came to me senses. Horrified at my complete decline and rush into anger and hostility, even malevolence, I sagged at my little gate consumed with shame and guilt. What hypocrisy. I’d even had visions of the Trump option of walling him in. Where was my Love. Well exactly. I had failed miserably. What a chump.

Look out for my next blog and see where I went from here!!

Happy gardening

Noggin.