John Gibson: What can happen if you lose it

I lost the plot. A long time ago, people will tell you. It is with considerable delight that I read of the city council’s promise to have our precious green acres on the city outskirts converted into allotments.

A vista of luscious lettuces, crunchy carrots and spuds in profusion is the vision before me. Fertiliser will be required, of course, and there’s that in abundance in the City Chambers.

I’m a man who calls a spade a spade, and spades, and shovels and picks can be seen right now cropping up all over the city centre. Inevitably it’s the trams that have much to do with it.

The workers, hard-hatted types, seem to take a fiendish glee in digging up fresh holes daily. It has become the all-consuming hobby with our hard hats and can you blame them? Toiling on the Sabbath and all, but they do manage to effect a grin.

Well, wouldn’t you when you are trousering double time. It’s only money and our transport guru, Lesley Hinds, apparently has got loadsalolly to chuck around. Has she got ‘‘Loadsa’’ as her middle name on her birth certificate? I shouldn’t be surprised.

Must send Lesley a selection of fresh veg from my grannie’s allotment. I see Waverley Bridge has succumbed to the demon diggers, by the way.

Afterwords...

... Nigel Kennedy, drawn on Bach and people who intellectualise on the composer: “If people get too theoretical about anything it becomes very boring.”

Perhaps Aston Villa’s problems are getting to him.