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posh one where we weren't allowed on. Moulsecoomb Place was all overgrown. There was two lovely mulberry trees that were leaning over and you could walk up and pick the huge great fruit. Down at the bottom of the allotments was a smallholding with a pony, kitten and dogs. One day a goat ate my aunt's straw hat when my cousin was wearing it.


Sheila, Mum & Dad outside allotment shed

People aren't happier and they don't respect people's property any more. We didn't ever lock our doors. If the door was locked, we'd all be locked out `cos nobody had a key. Money doesn't bring happiness. I think children are missing out - virtual reality seems to be more important nowadays than actual reality. It worries my that my own grandson can't tell a primrose from a bluebell. If children don't understand nature they're not going to value it are they?"


MODERN DAY IMPSTY'S SHIT

The soil on the allotments is chalky and very poor, and so we often give our plants a feed of nettle or comfrey liquid. We cut the plants down and put them in a big tub of water for a few weeks. The smell is disgusting and just like Impsty's shit, big fat maggots appear every week for a few months before metamorphosing into god-knows-what. We then water the liquid down (about 10 parts water, to 1 part liquid) and pour it onto the plants when they are flowering. We always do this at the end of a day, because the smell isn't too pleasant, but the plants love it.

   

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