There's something quite therapeutic about standing in a pile of rotting horse manure on a weekday lunchtime. After many months of good intentions and bad weather, three of us (Kate, Tamsin and me) made a dash for the stables on the other side of the Westway. This has been a good source of fertiliser for our at-work-allotment the past couple of seasons and, lucky for us, it really couldn't be closer; so in lieu of another desk-bound sandwich, we grabbed spades, forks and a car and went to shovel some horseshit.
Amazingly, there is a fully working stableyard that backs onto Wormwood Scrubs, with the drone of a four lane highway in the background. It's so tucked away that it's been a relatively well-kept secret, but for the first time, the steaming piles of stable waste were running very low. It can only mean that lots of other veg-growers have cottoned on and the horse muck is being lavished on plots all over west London. We managed to fill five bags full, so that should give a bit of a seasonal boost to our rubble-rich soil. Can't wait to get digging.