The Gits Strike Again

There was a story on the news tonight about how homo sapiens are now thought to have spent a good few thousand years alongside our neanderthal cousins before the latter bit the dust, trading, exchanging and even mating with them. Well, we saw some powerful evidence for the existence of unevolved barbarian DNA in the gene pool when we went down to the allotments last night. After a period of relative and very enjoyable calm, the marauding turds that have taken it upon themselves to vandalise the water supply in the past have had another go.

Pipes slashed again. Yawn.

We've escaped unscathed in the past - some allotmenteers have seen greenhouses smashed and polytunnels slashed as well as the damage to the water system - but this time they decided to push over some of our water barrels and nick a couple of items out the shed too. This will, I'm sure, be small fry compared to the damage to some plots. I can scarcely raise the energy to be pissed off by these total fannywipes, as I can't get my head around what tragicomic impulses animate their impotently pathetic existences if this is what denotes fun in their book. You've got to feel a bit sorry for someone who has so little going on that getting up in the middle of the night to slash a few pipes and knock over some barrels qualifies as a righteous cause. I'm no mathematician but I reckon the bravery of a villain varies inversely with the softness of the target. I can scarcely think of much of a softer target for crime than a bunch of unguarded allotments, so by my calculations this is a posse of seriously cowardly shits.

In any case, they left four barrels full of water on our plot, so we're fine there. The commitee have said they will be looking to repair the system at some point. It's all just so daft and pointless!

Weeds begone

This nonsense aside, we spent a very productive hour or so weeding some patches that had threatened to get away from us. The above patch of parsnips and lettuces was disappearing under docks and this creeping stuff I don't know the name of, but no more. Always satisfying.

We also brought home our crop of spring-planted onions, which had been drying in the shed. If the knuckle-draggers had nicked or damaged these I'd have been considerably more hacked off.

There was quite a serious quantity, enough to fill a whole sack, not that Albert was very impressed. This is in addition to the autumn planted ones that we're slowly munching our way through. Safe to say we won't be needing to buy any onions for quite some time.

May your garden remain a dickhead-free zone!