The latest column from our star gardening columnist, Jeremy Corbyn MP.

Morning, comrades

These past few weeks I chitted in the spare room, the dining room and on the living room window sill. Many elderly gardeners find themselves doing it. It’s the best way to bring on our spuds.

I’m a little late with this chore as I keep getting interrupted down the allotment by something called Brexit, which is giving everyone the chits.

To chit your seed spuds, you lay them in an egg box with their eyes pointing up just like I do when some Tory twerp asks something awkward at Prime Minister’s Question Time. I like to think the eyes always have it, unless I disagree, in which case we should have another vote.

You can just lay them on a tray, but I place mine on top of the left-wing Morning Star. I wouldn’t want to blight them with any of the popular papers. Then simply leave somewhere light until they sprout into little plants, ready to pop in the ground or a container.

Which varieties? Avoid Davidus Camerona, as it is apt to bolt. And I never grow King Edwards because I can’t stand those poncey royals. If you’re a trade unionist, you may wish to grow Desiree, as they are scab resistant.

I’ve been attempting to prune back the May bush which is going through a difficult time with pests all around it like Govegrub and the virulent Boris worm. The Prime Minister needs to get rid of all the perennial weeds around her before they entirely take over.

This is the time to cut back your roses, nice and hard, as fellow allotment keeper Mrs Abbott taught me many years ago. Give the allotment a good mulching with compost, wood chips or composted straw. It just needs a good fork in.

We’ve had trouble with people nicking our hispi cabbages on the allotments but I am against putting up borders of any kind….well I might consider a picket fence.

As soon as we know the frost has gone, I will be giving you tips on getting ready for the hanging baskets, which can now be made up of tumbling tomatoes or chillis, not just pretty trailing flowers. There are certainly a few baskets I would like to hang, well, if I wasn’t such a pacifist.

I had a lovely trip to Morecambe and took the usual tourist photo with the statue of Eric Morecambe. I thought of us as Morecambe and Wise. It was a lovely way to avoid that march in London with all those remainers in their Pringle jumpers and Hotter shoes.

Anyway, I am going to get my dibber out and get stuck in.

Happy gardening, comrades.