This has been a hellish day. To make up for it, here's my long overdue allotment diary May (er, early June?). The idea is that thinking about my allotment, visualising it, is going to help me unwind after a 15 hour non stop day. Of course it would be better actually being in it, but at midnight that is simply not the best idea methinks.

There's nothing like forgetting the time in the garden. There is a community hall with a belltower closeby, and its tolls are the only counter for time. Sometimes, time is precious and I listen to the tolls, counting and checking once an hour. Never do I glance on a watch, mobile phone or any other time telling instrument. Other times, like yesterday, I let time slip by, forgot about it, until tiredness, thirst and lack of strength sent me home. The day was warm, sunny and sociable. My fellow gardeners opposite were there, plus a friend and her visitor, who multiplied the hands on hand by three. I now have a tidy and spiderfree greenhouse, transported the compost heap into the newly built compost bin (also courtesy of my friend's visitor, though another one at that), and tried to convince three toads who had taken on the compost heap as their abode to move alongside it to the shiny new bin. They didn't seem to convinced. I felt bad.

The weedy tree, the tree of weed, the wreed or tweed has been cut down to a stump, which now sprouts beautifully. Apple tree, strawberry plants and snow in summer are in full bloom, while sticky willy is winding its way through rosebushes and flowers. The ground elder is alive and well, irrespective of any irradication effort presented with. My vegetables have grown, and some have been eaten by slugs, who've been eaten by birds and toads.

The finishing touches after a month of spending most time weeding, the rest of the time losing young bean plants to a sudden onset of frost in May were done as well. A plant sale, organised by Our Lady of St George's Church in Cardonald (a grand name for a church that is effectively a combination of council house and nissen hut, hosting very lovely people indeed) and in aid of the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture and Amnesty International, didn't just almost raise £300, but also provided a timely opportunity to get lovely plants at low cost. More was added thanks to a plant sale in Maxwell Park, the posh version of the earlier sale, more expensive, and thankfully other plants.

The plant exchange among gardeners started as well, cherry tomato and courgette for me, snow in summer, strawberries and other flowers to my friends. The first rhubarb jam of the year donated to the plant sale, to contribute a tiny bit to the Cardonald fundraising efforts.

Et voila. My garden is now weedfree, full of goodness, with room for the next set of vegetables, a lovely and full compost bin, porch and toads. If they want to evict me now, I'm going to get very angry indeed. And there's two bags of rhubarb waiting to become jam or crumble. Let's bring on the BBQ season...