Seeds of discontent amid afternoon tea and cake

1:01pm Thursday 28th February 2008

Comments (0)   Have your say »

HALF-TERM is over and the children are sufficiently fed up with each other for school to feel like a welcome relief to them.

They spent two nights of the holidays with the fantastic grandparents, enabling husband and I to re-live our pre-children days at home alone.

We go out for a curry and spend a vast proportion of the evening reminiscing about the curries we used to enjoy in our courtship days in Tooting.

I suppose it makes a change from talking about the children all night but we realise that we are not being very rock and roll discussing the pros and cons of naan bread versus chapattis.

Perhaps we should make more of our freedom and seek out the delights of Cirencester's only night club?

Decide against it, believing reports of pole dancing to be too much for me on a Monday night. Husband says he will investigate the place alone one evening to see if it is suitable for us.

Holiday over, I am now gripped by panic as March approaches. It's a feeling I get every year as seed packets and garden books suddenly scream at me to get out of my winter slippers and into my wellies.

Visits to friends' houses are no longer a pleasure - they become a particular type of torture as I spy their seed trays already teeming with life. "Come and have a cup of tea," say my friends. But what they really mean is "cast an envious eye over my sweet peas and leek seedlings."

I choke on the tea and return home quickly feeling inadequate.

I vow to make a huge effort to get some seeds in trays and will then send out the invitations for tea and cake at my house.

It's exhausting, keeping up with the allotment Joneses.