Mad, sad and dangerous to grow...

Who'd have thought it, eh? Me getting all flustered and excited about polytunnel brochures. This week I sent away for three (brochures, not polytunnels - crumbs, I almost felt Andy having heart failure reading that one) and have spent the last two evenings poring over the intricacies of 'The World That Is POLYTUNNEL!!' Tum-tum-taaaaaaa!!!! It's all hoops, fixings, foundations and stabilisers, not to mention width and length (but more on that later).

I've compared and contrasted the benefits of Superclear polythene against thermal anti-fog polythene. Or does Superwhite polythene with over-netting have the edge? I've become au fait with exotic sounding extras like the anti-hot spot tape, crop bar, storm stay brace and anchor plate. Then there's timber versus aluminium for your base rails and side vents. Or should we go down the trench root? And what about the overhead irrigation kit? Economy or prestige? We don't have to have an overhead irrigation kit but I rather fancy that on a hot day it might be quite pleasant to lie flat on one's back inside the polytunnel and be irrigated oneself. (Rather than irritated, which is usually the case.) It's all rather thrilling, if a little bit sad and middle-aged.

I have to say the best brochure so far is the one by First Tunnels, whose enclosed order form had a tea-bag attached, so I 'can enjoy a cuppa whilst browsing their goods.' I liked this touch enormously; also, their brochure has a nice 'silky' feel to it and is very, very easy to understand so even if I was an intellectually challenged gibbon, I'd still be able to order a polytunnel avec accoutrements in confidence. However, bearing in mind most of my decisions regarding car purchases have been based purely on their colour- 'that's a nice frosty blue one. It looks like the sky on a sunny day' - I shall be careful not to allow myself to be swayed by silky brochures and freebie tea-bags!

And then, to add to the frenzied polytunnel excitement, the postie delivered a copy of 'The Polytunnel Handbook' that I ordered from Amazon a few days ago. This book also feels silky to the touch because, I think, it 'is printed in the UK on recycled paper using vegetable inks by www.greenbooks.co.uk 'Must be a selling feature - 'stroke me, I'm lovely and natural!' So that's my weekend reading sorted.

Andy and I have decided we've space to fit a tunnel that is roughly 10 feet by 12 feet. I say 'roughly' because our measurements are based on us standing at the relevant section of allotment 87 side by side with our arms outstretched, fingers touching and saying things like, 'Well, I'm 5 foot 6, you're 5 foot 11 so that's 11 foot 5 inches plus an extra 6 inches because I've got arms like an orang-utan, then minus the water-tank when considering the length.' We adopted much the same method when assessing whether the huge semi-circular sofa we purchased last year would actually fit in our living room (only we used string for added accuracy.) It worked then, so it'll work now.

I'm a great believer in saying things like 'Of course it'll fit!' The only time I almost came a cropper was when trying to heave the goose in the oven at Christmas. But that was the butcher's fault because I distinctly remembering ordering a small one and he got me a big one, but it went in on the diagonal so all was well in the end and my goose was cooked. I think Heather may have inherited my optimism about big things fitting into small spaces because when she was 3, she put a whole orange Club biscuit in her mouth sideways. I had to break it in half to get it out again. And then there was the time she put a dice up her nostril 'to see if it would fit.' And it did!

So I'm off to make a cup of tea with my free tea bag and settle down with 'The Polytunnel Handbook.' I hope it all ends 'happily ever after'. I love a good story! And with a leading lady called Polly Tunnel, how can it not?