Last year, when I moved to Brixton with my boyfriend, there was talk of an allotment on the housing estate I now called home.
"What?", I thought, "next to the railway tracks? In between the blocks of flats? Dead concrete for twenty miles? Surely not! You can't grow things HERE!"
But it was April and my need to plant things and disturb worms is pressing at that time of year, so I went along and had a look. And found an allotment. And I've spent the last year helping to prove that you can grow things in Central London! YAY!!
So this year I'm going to write this, probably more occasionally than I'd hope, partly as a nice record-with-pictures and partly as webpropaganda to convert others to my concrete-growing cause. *insert muahaha here*
"What?", I thought, "next to the railway tracks? In between the blocks of flats? Dead concrete for twenty miles? Surely not! You can't grow things HERE!"
But it was April and my need to plant things and disturb worms is pressing at that time of year, so I went along and had a look. And found an allotment. And I've spent the last year helping to prove that you can grow things in Central London! YAY!!
So this year I'm going to write this, probably more occasionally than I'd hope, partly as a nice record-with-pictures and partly as webpropaganda to convert others to my concrete-growing cause. *insert muahaha here*
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