"Bollocks". A Guest Post by Jono

Let me introduce Jono. As author of the hugely popular blog Real Men Sow. We here at Vegetablism feel very privileged and lucky, for him to do us the honour of a guest post. If you've not seen Jono's blog before, I'll post some links to it at the bottom of this post so you can, and you should!

I write a nice, cheery blog. We’re entirely non-offensive over there, with a large underlying tone of being kind to your mum. We certainly don’t swear (I think I once said crap, but I’m not sure that counts in this day and age).

When 5olly asked me to do a guest post on Vegetablism, I was unsure. 5olly loves swearing. He admits he does it too much. He even swears at the top of this page.

Trouble is, in real life I quite like a swear. Not a raging, effing and jeffing tirade, but a firm, meaningful ‘oh, bollocks’ goes down quite well when I do something wrong.

The opportunity for a blogging swear was not one I could turn down, and so, I present The Top 5 Allotment Cock Ups That Made Me Say Bollocks.

1. The Globe Artichoke Fork and Spade Snapping Episode.
This is actually a treble bollocks. I planted some little globe artichokes about 4 years ago. What I didn’t know, is that they grow huge (first bollocks).

Subsequently, I tried to dig one up. Trouble is, they’re as big underground too. Despite this, I thought I could use my fork to lever the roots up.

I snapped the fork in half, much to the amusement of the old boys around me (second bollocks). I also snapped my spade (third bollocks). The artichoke is still in the ground.

My artichokes

2. ‘The Mower Doesn’t Work, Ron’
Embarrassing myself in front of the allotment elders is a habit of mine. I borrowed the mower off Ron, allotment mainstay, guru and runner of the shop. Mowers are my nemesis, I can never get them to work. This was no exception.

‘Mower doesn’t work, Ron.’

It did, I just wasn’t using the choke. Ron duly started the same mower I’d spent half an hour trying to power up, right in front of what seemed like most the plotholders.

The poxy lawnmower

3. The Rotten Bags in the Boot of the Car Smell
A tip: when you weed at the plot, don’t leave the sacks of weeds out in the rain for weeks. When you go to take them away, they’re full of putrid water that leaks all over the boot of your car, and hums forever and always.

If you see a gold Nissan Micra with a girl hanging out the passenger window gagging, that’s me and my wife.

4. Stains On The Brand New Shorts
I don’t buy many new clothes, so when I do, I try to make them good ones. Last summer, I bought some spanking new shorts. 100% organic, ever so soft, Seasalt ones. What a guy, I was the don.

Anyway, I went down the plot in them, against my wife’s better advice. Got stuck in to a few ‘small jobs’ and came home covered in mud. One pair of new shorts ruined.

A rather odd picture of me looking uncomfortable next to the artichokes.

5. The Recycling Boxes Scandal
I won’t go into too much detail about my employment, only to say that one item we provide is very distinctive plastic boxes. Thing is, these boxes are perfect size for growing in, and they even have pre drilled holes in the bottom.

I swiped some. Only a few, and my defence is that they were old ones, with no value, but I probably should have asked.

Anyway, cut a long story short, the local rag wanted to take some photos of me at my plot. I
obliged. The photos went in the paper, and there I was, proudly standing next to said boxes.

The moral of the story is if you don’t ask, you get a bollocking. Bollocks.


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