This Christmas I will not end up in A and E! This Christmas I will wear my life jacket!

For the last few years I, myself, not the kids, have ended up in A and E.

 Last year I was rushing to get into a car and fell over  (tits over fanny- in the middle of the road – and no I wasn’t drunk!) spraining my ankle. The year before that I woke up after putting up the decorations and had pulled a muscle in my neck. Don’t ask me how and the year before that I was trying to make fajitas and a spray of very hot oil caused me a second degree burn on my wrist. Ouch!

The last time I was there – last Christmas – I had a really nice nurse, a woman in her 40s, a mum, I found out, and we had a great chat – 

Use your best Watford accent – “Oh my love! The amount of mums we get in here over Christmas! You wouldn’t believe it! We are all rushing about so much and that’s when accidents happen!”  Of course she was absolutely right. All my previous accidents HAD indeed been because I was rushing about. I looked around and saw another woman my age with her arm in a sling. Ok so mine were only ‘minor injuries’ but excuse the pun they have been a complete pain in the ass – especially at the busiest time of the year.

I love Christmas but it does get so hectic and we end up rushing about and not thinking about ourselves or our safety! I have noticed that road rage seems to be increased around Christmas as everyone rushes around trying to fit everything in. The words ‘Happy Shoppers’ certainly wasn’t invented at Christmas. The amount of bad tempered shoppers  (myself included) is truly amazing considering this is supposedly the most wonderful time if the year!

So here is my ‘life Jacket’ anology.  I have 3 children with only 3 years and 10 months between them  *I’m counting! My way of surviving has always been the ‘life vest theory’ – You know when you get on an airplane and they something like this –

If you are travelling with a child or someone who requires assistance, secure your mask on first, and then assist the other person. “

 I can not look after my own children in an emergency unless I have my life jacket on. Because if I can not survive neither can they. I now use this as my parenting mantra. As a parent my duty is to look after my kids and make sure they are well cared for. However I can not do this if I myself am not well. Having my life jacket on has become a metaphor for making sure that I put myself first in order to make sure I can look after the kids. I will give you an example… It’s been a long day. The kids are hungry and you have a lovely healthy meal planned. But you are knackered and you know that finding the strength to make that lovely fresh healthy meal (that 2 out of 3 MAY eat) will kill you. So you order in pizza, put your feet up and have a glass of wine! Happy mummy , happy kids.  That’s the Life jacket. So is a night out with the girls, McDonalds, a weekend away with the husband and wine/chocolate and shopping. You get the idea.

So as I rush about putting up decorations, buying presents, attending children’s plays, concerts and parties… I am going to remind myself to stop. Stop rushing. Stop stressing and give myself a break – put on my life jacket because if I don’t I may have another minor injury and worse still my kids might not have a good Christmas because I didn’t have my life jacket on as I am to busy worrying about everyone else. Oh who I am kidding? My next post will probably be from a hospital bed after falling off a table dancing. I have done that before….

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In the beginning there was Wham

I got my very first house plants when I was 12. I begged my mum to buy them me on a soggy sunday trip to a garden centre. It was 1984 and I named them George and Andrew. Andrew was the taller leaner one but George was my favourite. They lived a long and happy life in my ever changing bedroom and I am told that Andrew  (a yucca) was moved into my mum’s garden and there continued to thrive. 

It would be many years later that I would own my next plants. I worked in Italy for years and was never lucky enough to have a garden. Then in 2000 my dad (who had recently started growing vegetables too) brought me one of those propagator sets you can buy in bargain shops. It had a plastic propagator with lid, tomato and chilli seeds and a small amount of compost.  It was only small but it was not a small gift. My dad brought it over to Italy for me knowing I had a small but sunny window sill. I loved taking care of it and watching the fruit grow. Those tomatoes were the sweetest I have ever tasted and from there grew my love of growing veg. 

A couple of years later I moved back to England and together with my future husband we rented a tiny flat on the ridiculously polluted Camden road. This didn’t put me off however. We had a large sunny window by which I grew many varieties of house plants and I took in sick plants and tended them back to health earning me the nickname ‘plant whisperer!’

Our window in Camden –

From there we moved to Chalk farm and finally I had a lovely balcony! I grew tomatoes and chillies, peppers and even aubergine! There wasn’t much light but I loved spending weekends there and dad gave me some plants called ‘night scented stock’ which he planted under our window so that as evening came in so did this wonderful floral scent. Unfortunately I have never been able to grow it since.

Caring for these plants, planting seeds, watering them, nurturing them also fulfilled another need in me. Following a wonderful wedding and honeymoon pregnancy we lost the baby after an ectopic pregnancy ended in emergency surgery, a removed fallopian tube and a long period of recovery.  I swear that being able to grow these plants and reap their results aided my recovery greatly.

A much wanted successful pregnancy brought us to Watford and our first house and garden! Ok ‘yard’ or ‘rear courtyard garden’ as the estate agent called it! It was small, shady and uncared for but I loved it!

There were no decent window sills so again Dad came to the rescue and in the summer he put up a mini plastic greenhouse for my seedlings.  My Sicilian husband put in a (very optimistic) vine and a beautiful Rosemary bush. I grew beans up the washing line pole and tumbling tomatoes from the fence.  Buckets became carrot and potato beds and every spare bit of soil had a herb!

Our small back yard in Watford –

We found out we were pregnant with baby number two which would mean having  two babies under 18 months old.  We had started to literally outgrow the yard. That’s when my husband suggested we get an allotment, I thought he was mad. Two babies a yard full of plants and he wanted an allotment?! In March 2009 we picked up the keys to our beloved plot on Farm Terrace Allotment but that as they say is another story…

Mother Earth Lush

A blog about a blog? Can I do that? Well I am!

I have been trying to figure out my ‘usp’ My Unique Selling Point for writing a blog. Obviously I would ideally like it to be an account of a paid journey through Italy but 

A) No one is going to pay me to do that and 

B) The family still needs me and so do my child minding families! So I CAN’T  do that.

As you may have read this year has been a year of self recuperation and reflection. I have come to the conclusion that one of the main things I miss about my days of campaigning for Farm Terrace is writing about it.  My first Face Book “rant’  about it was in 2012. My first blog was 2013. But “What exactly is a blog?” this is  a question that I have been asked a lot recently. 

This is the definition according to the wisdom that is wikepedia –

 blog/ blɒɡ/ noun

  1. 1.

    a regularly updated website or web page, typically one run by an individual or small group, that is written in an informal or conversational style.

 Conversational style” sounds just like me!  I can do that!  Blogs are hugely popular and lots of the good (and bad) stuff you read on social media probably originated from a blog somewhere. You will find blogs about every topic under the sun. So what’s stopping you from writing one? Nothing! For me it appeals as it is a creative platform to document my life. Hopefully my kids and grandkids will be able to read them one day -should they want to! This of course means that you have to be very careful about what you write as it will always be out there but for me the campaign to save Farm Terrace was a baptism of fire with all aspects of social media. 

So what am I going to write about?

In short my chaotic life. Not a diary but an insight into all the stuff I do or TRY to do in order to achieve my goal of living the so called ‘Good life’ which to me is trying to be as self sufficient as possible and finding happiness in the simple, natural things in life.  However My friends love taking the piss out of me calling me an “Earth mother”!  They laugh because despite of my best efforts to grow and cook my own food etc I am not a hippy or moralistic and I often have a glass of wine in my hand! Is that a bad thing though? At least I am trying to lead an ethical, responsible, organic life for me and my family. The fact that I do make mistakes and am flexible with my morals, have a weakness for Haribos and am often found with a glass of  wine in my hand – is my ‘USP’ and is exactly the type of blog I would like to read.

So I have chosen the name ‘Earth mother lush’ for my blog and I will be writing about the allotment and garden,  how to grow food, vegetarian food, my chickens, my other pets, the stresses of being a woman and responsible-ish parent. All sprinkled with anecdotes, photos, videos and a huge dose of humour  (I  hope!).

DON’T BE SO QUICK TO JUDGE!

I change my hair style frequently. This is not a recent thing. Since I first had my hair streaked at the age of 12 I have enjoyed changing my look and have had almost every colour and style you can think of!

Because I make such drastic changes people usually comment on my hair and 99% of the time they are complimentary. The odd time I get, “I preferred it before,” or similar but nobody is ever rude. 

I like to compliment people, particularly women, on their ‘look’. It’s always easier as a woman to give a compliment to another woman rather than a man – particularly a complete stranger. Usually the people on the receiving end of my compliments are touched, happy and even surprised. Occasionally they are embarrassed but generally I think it is lovely to tell someone else how much you like their hair/scarf/shoes etc. 

But here’s the thing. Whenever I look at another woman I am 100% thinking, “I like their hair/scarf/sunglasses etc. Or, “Wow! They really suit that hat/lipstick/top.” I never look at a woman and think, “They look fat/old/a mess…” and yet when I catch another woman looking at me I always think, “Shit, they are looking at my unbrushed hair or my middle aged spread or my old coat,” and I think they are judging me! Of course they probably aren’t.  If I don’t judge other women why the hell do I think other women are judging me? 

Maybe it’s because as a woman I seem to have an inherent lack of self esteem particularly when it comes to my physical appearance. Even though I am outwardly confident I still have the low self image so many of us seem to have. We can’t imagine someone is looking at us and thinking well of us.

Another common thing I have noticed is that when I do really admire another woman’s look I feel instantly depressed because I compare myself unfavourably to them. Yet when I look closer at these women they are always much younger than me. I am actually feeling envious of their youth not just their hair/make up/clothes.

So next time I see someone wearing a nice pair of earings or they have great glasses on I will complement them and next time I see someone looking at me I won’t be so quick to judge why!


A very long year. Pay back is a bitch.

Throughout the Farm Terrace fight people kept asking me how I did it all. I had two very small children and a baby when I started campaigning. I wasn’t getting much sleep, I was multi tasking and I was completely inexperienced.  But I just did it. Apart from a couple of periods of ‘campaigning fatigue’ I kept going until way after the bitter end. Even finding the energy to do probing interviews about how horrible it is to lose. 
But then in January I crashed.
I woke up one morning crying. I didn’t know why. I felt numb. I wasn’t  angry any more nor was I bitter. It was much worse – I felt numb. I had a physical response. I was lethargic, exhausted and unable to explain why. For one who is capable of passionate tears accompanied by loud cries this was the opposite. Silent but constant.
If I am honest I knew this was coming. I was finding it harder and harder to cope with campaigning issues and the multitude of commitments I had taken on to replace campaigning for Farm Terrace.
Thankfully I didn’t feel that I couldn’t cope with my family or my job. This was purely connected to being ‘SARA JANE TREBAR’. I wanted her to disappear.  I needed to be anonymous. To not have to talk to anyone about losing the case. I had to be ‘just’ a mum, ‘just’ a wife ‘just’ a friend for a while. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. If I am honest I was grieving not just for the allotments but for the person I had been while campaigning.
For one who has never suffered depression it was a shock. Luckily withdrawing from other campaigns and commitments helped.  I put all my energy into planning a month long summer holiday which was not just cathartic but also rejuvenating as I visited old friends, reflected on my past and began to think about my future.
Like many people at the age of 45 I find myself facing the dreaded mid life questions; “what next?” “Who am I now?” and “what do I want to do?” The truth is that I don’t know.

Hopefully this period in my life will make me a stronger and better person. It has been a very long year and I still feel weak and unsure . I think this is payback from being strong and determined for so long.
At an event last month I saw this picture saying “Be you, be brave” and I knew I had to buy it. The words struck a chord with me. I may not feel it at the moment but like all of us I am stronger than I think. I just need to remind myself of that.

Farm Terrace Allotments – One year after we lost the fight to keep our plots.  

20171102_0943501883903839.jpg The entrance today

One year ago todaywe lost our fight to save Farm Terrace. We fought a good fight but the odds were stacked against us. Farm Terrace allotments stand behind Vicarage Road stadium in West Watford and date back to the late 1890s. There were over 128 plots which accounted for just under 10% of all allotments in Watford. Farm Terrace was the largest allotment site in the centre of Watford, a densely populated town of 80,000 covering eight square miles.

It was May 2012 when the Farm Terrace Community received a letter from Watford Council stating that the land was needed for the so called Health Campus to rebuild the hospital situated next door. It soon became clear that the hospital was not the priority and housing seemed to be the real pursuit of the land grab, leading the remaining Farm Terrace allotment holders to challenge the eviction. The initial reaction was to tell us we were wrong and force a legal battle but in 2014 the Mayor of Watford, Dorothy Thornhill, admitted at a Mayoral hustings there would be no new hospital for Watford and only a possibility of new facilities. The campaign that followed to save Farm Terrace was bitter, raw and passionate. The Mayor of Watford swayed the public with untruths and unfulfilled promises. Ultimately the truth came out that the land would be used for a football carpark, housing and possible hospital facilities if there was funding. In the end the dubious council campaign did its damage.

We finally lost our four year fight at the Royal Courts of Justice late last year and were given just 48 hours to leave our allotments despite requesting a short extension to remove our belongings. This was denied and the council arranged a fence to completely surround the fence already around the allotment to prevent re-entry. Almost one year on the allotments remain abandoned and derelict with a season of fruit and vegetable crops rotting in the ground.

The council had to offer us new allotments that were close to Farm Terrace. Their proposal to the UK government was to replace the lost 128 plots on a site two miles away on the outskirts of Watford at Oxhey Village. To date only 22 plots have been replaced with 11 used by new tenants. The site chosen by the council was not accessible for most Farm Terrace users and eight of us reluctantly optioned to relocate to an existing site relatively closer than the Oxhey Village option.

As any allotment holder knows starting a new plot is daunting. Luckily we had experience and knowledge but it was hard work and bittersweet preparing the new space. In the first week we found our plots had been rotavated for us by the council but contained bricks and other building rubble. We dug deep and through hard work and perseverance similar to our four year court battle we have moved forward and pursued our true goal of growing vegetables. We now have new sheds, worked-over land and fresh compost that has led to a productive first season. Despite the group success we still felt like misplaced refugees in a place we did not choose after decades developing our Farm Terrace community.

We have turned our anger and bitterness into digging, building and planting. The fact we could do this side by side was invaluable. To retain some identity we named our plots in the corner of Holywell allotment site ‘Farm Terrace Corner’ so our old site will never be forgotten. It is still difficult to walk past Farm Terrace but as I began to write this piece I felt that I had to. It stands like a decaying museum piece and I fear for inner city and town allotments as developers continue to eye up short term financial gains rather than long term social profit of community assets like Farm Terrace. The partnership between Kier and Watford Council to redevelop the area around Watford Hospital is a good example of this. Farm Terrace was not lost because people didn’t want it or that it wasn’t needed but because of short term greed.

Dorothy Thornhill and her Lib Dem council now wish to distance themselves from the sordid affair and have already relabelled the Health Campus as the Riverwell Development which currently has permission for 85 ‘housing units elsewhere on the development’. No planning permission for Farm Terrace has been submitted yet. While we wait to see exactly what will become of our beloved site I worry how little value the government places on green sites over quick profit.

It has been depressing, demoralising and destructful but these feelings are being recycled and reused as physical energy as I weed and plant spring bulbs on my new plot whilst other allotment site continue to be closed and developed throughout the UK.

Is this the end? How do we feel?

It has been a few weeks since we received the Government’s decision on the third application to ‘deregulate’ (close) farm terrace. People keep offering their condolences and asking is this is the end of the line? Honestly I don’t know. How do we feel? We know the decision is morally wrong. We are thankful that our fantastic legal team have agreed to look through this latest document to see if it is legally wrong and we are comforted by the support of local residents and supporters far and wide.

And we have been here three times before.

The first time back in May 2013 was the worst. We were sure that the government would back us up. Andy our chairman and others spent weeks completing our submission, which still stands as a robust document, so when the Watford Observer called me for a quote about the fact ‘we had lost’ – it was the first I had heard and I was shaking with shock. I met my neighbours who also have a plot there and we cried in the street. Luckily in July 2013 we got legal support funded through crowd funding and challenged that the decision had been incorrectly made. In August 2013 the Secretary Of State acknowledged his error in the decision and through a Judicial review formally quashed the deregulation decision. But in September 2013 Watford Borough Council put in a 2nd submission to close the site.

In December 2013 the SOS agreed a second deregulation whilst stating exceptional circumstances for the first time as the statutory criteria to close had not been fully met. I heard about this when a friend called me. This time I was not so surprised but the exceptional circumstances threw me. It still does. On July 25th 2014 We took the government and the council to the Royal courts of justice for a second Judicial review and on October 31st 2014 we found out that we had won!

In January 2015 Watford Borough Council put in their third submission to close the allotments. They believed that it was simply a matter of updating the information that was referred to by the judge and that the decision would be made quickly. The update from the Council that ran to 44 pages and 43 appendices.

We were made to wait 15 months.

On the 26th May 2016, this year, I was sat on the park having a picnic after school with my family when the same friend called to tell me the news that the government had agreed a third time to deregulate. My phone didn’t stop ringing that afternoon. It was mainly the press but also supporters trying to make sense of the legal jargon.

I felt numb. I still do. As I have explained we have been here before but each time you hope that this time ‘they’ will see sense. That this time David will beat Goliath.

We know that there will be no hospital buildings built on the Farm Terrace land. We know that all the plots will be bulldozed over to build flats and car parks. We know that this unique green lung that has been with us since the 1890’s and surrounded by buildings and traffic, once lost will be gone forever. We are not unique, many allotments are being ‘sold’ to developers but we are the most high profile case.

One day I am convinced that school children will study our case. The question I ask myself is whether they will study it because finally we won or will they study it because we lost and it marked the end of allotment gardens?

Don’t worry. We will fight on!