Mr Rotavator was down the plot this week.

My favourite piece of kit rolled off the back of the truck and, after a few faltering tugs, spat a couple of puffs of smoke and jumped into life.

I was dragged around the patch like an England winger clinging to Jonah Lomu’s thighs, until I managed to dig in my heels and win the battle of man-versus-machine.

My preferred rotavator time is a quiet weekday morning, when nobody is about to see the humiliating beads of sweat rolling off the brow.

Nor do my plot neighbours see me tear up their beautifully pruned edges, or obliterate the scarecrow their little ’uns made at primary school. It was like a chainsaw massacre with picket fences and poly tunnels as the unsuspecting victims.

Even Alan – the robin who frequently pops by for a tweet – raised an eyebrow and then bolted for dear life as I churned up chunks of the East Oxford earth.

Right now my upper arms are quivering and I can barely summon the energy as I hen-and-peck the words into my laptop. I am a wimp.

This would be understandable, but the actual area rotavated stretches to the size of a pathetic postage stamp. The size, in fact, which could be ably tackled with a fork and bit of good old elbow grease, but hey – where’s the fun in that?

The reason behind the hefty hire is a new venture. I have more land to cultivate, which has been hidden under tarpaulin for the last ten months.

I know not why I have done this to myself. My sustainable quarter plot was not only manageable, but a loyal supplier of more than enough vegetables to keep Barbara and me stocked up into winter.

Instead I have eyes bigger than my wheelbarrow and I may have crossed the line from petty wannabe veg grower into small-holding. Still. I feel up for the challenge.

Last week, I stocked up on compost thanks to Ardley Waste Recycling depot, strimmed back the enveloping grass and we are ready to give it a go.

I need to take things more seriously.

Allotment sites are at a premium, even in Oxford, which is fairly well stocked with plots.

We are aware of the push for more housing, especially in corners of the country which are starved of space.

At the same time, we are dealing with rising food bills, questions over food quality and trying to cut food miles.

I’d like to see if I can fully utilise the full allotment space as less of a hobby and more of my daily routine: meals, pastime, exercise and cost-saving.

It’s going to be an interesting summer.