Monday, July 22, 2024

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I want my plums to grow bigger and I’d like to exhibit my aubergine

Introducing our new star Suffolk Gazette gardening columnist, Jeremy Corbyn MP.

Hello, comrades,

Well, what a week it’s been down the allotment. My sneaky neighbour, Chuck Umami, stole seven of my plants. Just climbed over the fence in his designer suit and oiked them from under my nose. My old flame, Mrs Abbott thought he had taken 700 but I soon put her right. Anyway, they were not the best specimens, so Chuck is welcome to them.

Then I found a plant I thought had died 40 years ago when Dericus Hattonium popped up. It died again after two days of showy display.

At the moment I’m trying to get rid of all the deadwood on the plot.

If only there was an organic, gender-neutral, non-bee-killing and effective poison for that most virulent of weeds: Tabloidiosi. I know it sounds paranoid, but sometimes I feel it is actually out to get me. It is very prickly and has stung me on the arse almost daily.

I find music in the allotment very energising. This week I’ve been playing Macca’s Hey Jewed, Another One Bites The Dust, Talking ‘Bout A Revolution and Don’t Let THE SUN Go Down On Me.

Chuck has been trying to outdo me by playing loudly, Let’s Get This Parted Started.

I’ve cleared the plot ready for some flowers. Trouble is I never know whether what is planted is going to turn out blue or red, or Allah forbid, bloody orange like a Liberal Democrat.

Sometimes I re-plot things without telling the allotment keeper, Mr Watson. We used to call him Fat Tommy but he’s been to Weight Watchers, or was it Hate Watchers? Now he’s thinner than a Labour poll lead. No doubt he’ll put all that lard back on after dining out with his posh media mates.

I always keep in trim eating my home-grown veg which I will be giving you tips on as my column in The Suffolk Gazette blooms as big as an award-winning marrow.

My dark little shed is a great source of pleasure. I keep a secret stash of drinks like Earl Grey and Gunpowder Green tea, which I call Guy Fawkes extra strong.

Like many old men, I also have some porn hidden under the potting shelf amid the twine and Miracle Gro. I get quite aroused by the words of Karl Marx and Chairman Mao and magazines like The New Statesperson. I always hope I will get a General Erection.

Gardeners often ask me which fertiliser I use and whether it is environmentally-friendly.  As I said at Prime Minister’s Question Time, Lorraine, 34, from Suffolk asked me this very thing.

My answer is ALWAYS the same: “We need more help for the non-working man, more money for the NHS, and education. If we don’t have a decent education system, my other allotment holders will have to send their children to private schools. End austerity and ban the bomb.”

This week I have been propagating my Hamas seeds and digging over old theories. My snowdrops are in their prime, waving like white flags in a war. As are my Hellibores, or Mrs Mays, as I call them.

The narcissi are also popping up which reminds me of Chuck, Mrs Berger and Mrs Soubry.

I’d like to pour a bucket of manure over the bastards but I need it for my crops.

I want my plums to grow bigger this year and would like to exhibit my aubergine before it gets more wrinkly.

Anyway, pitchforks out, comrades, for the season ahead and the Battle of Brexit. I will answer any of your gardening questions via The Suffolk Gazette website here if you wish to comment below. I am hoping to turn it into the Pravda of Ipswich.

Up the workers!

Right up the workers!

Yours, Jeremy

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