Berry Good.....

The Strawberry Urn is going well, and already has small fruits forming. I need to get some netting quick, before the birds spot them as they ripen.

Chop Chop!

In a cutting edge experiment to see if the power of suggestion might encourage my tomato plants to get cracking, I saved some tin cans to plant them in. (I only need 4 plants so it wasn't hard to eat the requisite amount of Spag Bol.)

I did wonder afterwards if it might have slightly sinister undertones though. A bit like being raised in a coffin.

Scientists among you will not be surprised to learn that it made no difference either way, and therefore I have not applied for the Nobel Prize for Biological Research.

They are now outside in baskets where I suspect I will need to spend most of my waking, non working hours, watering the darn things.

When Cars Go Bad.....

Some tedious motor troubles have occurred over the last week, which frankly have bored me almost as much as they have frustrated me. In an attempt therefore to extract some positive, rather if paltry comedic value, I shall make a list below....(As is often my wont!)

1. I sort of half hear a bang and some shouting outside in the street at 11:45 pm last Tuesday. Due to drowsiness, nakedness, and comfiness of bed, decide "its probably nothing" and go back to sleep.

2. I wake up in morning to find a wing mirror hanging off the car. Seems clear that someone must have driven round the corner a bit tight, and clipped it with their vehicle.

3. I Am late for work after some very un-mechanic like hacking and taping, but resign myself to forking out for a new mirror.

4. I sacrifice my intended weekend away, to go see "Reliable Ron", my local car doctor, to get it fixed on Saturday, as I cannot take time off work.

5. I Arrive home on Wednesday to be told by a chap across the way, that it was not accident, and he saw it all. Seems two "lads" in a "darkish car" were driving down the Old High Street, and suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. The passenger got out, and began working his way down a line of parked cars, (starting with mine) gleefully kicking off wing mirrors, a' la Bruce Lee. When my neighbour suggested loudly that they Foxtrot Oscar, they jumped back in their car and sped off.

6. I phone it in to the police, "just for the record" as we don't have a car reg, or a very detailed description from the witness..... Who in fairness was yelling out of his bedroom window at the time.

7. On Friday, I get a call from an Ossifer of the Law, who absolutely insists on coming round to take a statement. On Sunday, thus dealing the coup de grace to the remains of my weekend.

8. Go to see Reliable Ron on Saturday, who is having an uncharacteristic off day on the reliability front, and has ordered the wrong part. Agree to come back early Tuesday morning on the way to work.

9. Sacrifice Sunday morning waiting for the very polite but depressingly young looking policeman, who then declines to take a statement after all, and says they probably can't do anything as we don't have a description. ....He's smart this lad.

10. Tuesday, go to see Plain Ordinary Ron, to find that the new part did not arrive , due to some sort of comedy mix up involving two garages with the same name in neighbouring towns. Rather than tip me off the day before, Ron decided to wait until I was 200 yards away before phoning me to tell me not to get up early and drive over.

11. After work I find I have received several leaflets in the post from the local Police Station advising me what to do after being a victim of crime, and advising how I can "access victim support".

12. Wednesday.... Beat a weary path to Ron's again. His neighbours must think we are having an affair I've been there so often. Finally get to admire myself in the new mirror though, and Ron patiently explains how I should go about fitting one myself another time, while I stand around feeling inept, and slightly foolish.

13. "Young Detective of The Year" phones to confirm that they cannot take it further, as we don't have a car reg or a description. I swear that I can hear his biro ticking a "completed" box on a record sheet over the phone. Actually I just swear.

14. All that remains now of course, is to await the inevitable re-appearance of Bruce Lee......... Like all good movie stars, he blends action with suspense.

Tote That Barge, Lift That Bale...............

I am sorry to have been so remiss and slack of update this week, especially as literally a whole one of you have been clamouring for news.

But look at it from my angle...........I am still in shock......This work business takes up your whole day!

I have to leave home at 8:30am, when the self respecting unemployed are all still abed, and I don't get back until 6:00pm...... Or sometimes even as late as 6:10.

And they don't let you watch telly!

At least the work itself is going well. On the one hand, admin, is admin, is admin.....As long as you can turn up on time, look alert, and knock out a few spreadsheets, you can fit in to most companies.

On the other hand, there is a lot of technical terminology I'm trying to master, and also a lot of detailed procedures to be assimilated.

My boss however, who seems to be a pretty genuine sort of chap, professes himself pleased with my efforts to date, so I'm confident things will work out fine. He clearly likes to run a tight ship, with old school attention to efficiency, accuracy and detail. Fortunately I don't find that sort of thing a problem. Especially at the moment as I am still chock full of "first term" endeavour...... My desk is like that beautifully pristine page in your new school exercise book.

Names though, are a bit more of a tussle. As someone who once worked with a lady called Helen for 7 years, and continually forgot her name, or called her Christine, you can imagine how I am struggling with a lot of new faces at the moment. (It wouldn't have been so bad had I not been her manager at the time.)

But before I close, and drag my weary body up to bed, I have a moment to ponder the single greatest dilemma in the world of commerce.

When to make your sandwiches......... In the morning, or the night before?

Voodoo Garden...........

The woman at the Council Allotment office says there are actually 32 people on the list ahead of me, and I'm not very likely to get a plot for well over a year.

I should have asked her for their names and addresses.

Windows On The (Old) Soul......

It seems that I have "ageing eyes".

Perhaps this should not come as a surprise, as the rest me is definitely slowly maturing, but my eyes have always been tip-top bits of kit. Real 20:20 grade peepers. I am therefore a little sad to be told I have "ageing eyes".

Apparently they are not quite pulling together they way they used to. Some might say that my left hand has not known what my right hand is doing for years, particularly anyone who has seen me play golf, but it's the first time it has been said of my headlamps.

The very efficient optometrist in Vision Express, made it all sound so matter of fact.... "You have ageing eyes. It's to be expected now you are over 40."

She might as well have added " The rest of you will be conking out soon I expect, so don't start any long books."...... Then she relieved me of £180.

I decided to have an eye test before I start the new job, as I'm aware I've been straining to see fine detail on the computer screen, which after a while, makes me feel decidedly sea-sick.

The resultant glasses are very mild in prescription terms, but do seem to be doing the trick so far, although with their help I can foresee the need for second pair, to avoid inconveniently leaving them at home or work all the time.

I only need them for VDU work, or prolonged reading, but all the same, it still feels like a slur on my youth and vitality.

Thank God I still have naturally dark hair..... Not a solitary hint of grey there!..........Yet.

Stoke Bruerne Trip.....

As mentioned previously, I made a quick trip to the village of Stoke Bruerne the other day, to look at the Blisworth Basin & Lock on the Grand Union Canal. There is a museum of narrow boat history there, but I didn't pay to go in. I'm not particularly interested in canals or narrow boats per se, but just went to see if there was anything worth photographing.

This is what I made of my lunchtime visit.

The two boats side-by-side in the lock are proper working boats, that were carrying a load of fabricated steel from Birmingham, down to London. Apparently this length of commercial trip is very unusual these days, and lots of narrow boat fans had come to see them go through the lock.

Not something I would have travelled on purpose for, but I thought it best to let sleeping ducks lie.......

Jam Tomorrow.......

I went to have a look at the potential new allotment site today, which is about 4 minutes drive from my house, on the route to and from work each day. And guess what.............. It's a cracker!

I turned up about 10:am, when I thought most of the committee might be likely to be there, and sure enough, I was quickly introduced to the Chairman, Secretary and Treasurer. And very nice friendly people they were too.

They have a good trading hut, heavy equipment for hire, and a tea room. Water is laid on all over the site, for which there is no charge; and from talking to some of the plot holders, there doesn't seem to be too much trouble or vandalism. The local Neighbourhood Watch drive round the site every night, and there have only been 2 or 3 instances of petty vandalism in the last couple of years.

The soil looks fantastic too. A rich dark loam, and not too heavy.

And the downside?........The local council hold the waiting list, and it's thought there are at least 20 people on it. But even this is not so bad, as they are starting to offer half plots, which gets things moving faster, and is probably about as much as I would need to start with. Also I don't really want to take one over until the Autumn when I am fit enough for all the digging etc, so the timing could work to my advantage.

I took a few snaps, just with the camera on my phone, but I think they give a reasonable impression of what the site is like.

I'm really looking forward to eventually getting back to the land, and also of course to dusting down my other blog......

Greenmantle Blah Blah......

Seems that I have been "tagged" again in one of these ubiquitous cyber-circulars. I find myself exhorted to reveal details of the man behind the blog..... As I said to Soilman, (for it were he who were the tagger). "What, talk about myself?... Oh well, only if I absolutely must! "

What was I doing 10 years ago
Probably the same thing that I am now. Sitting in the lounge in a bathrobe, drinking coffee, and inventing ever more elaborate justifications as to why it would be the sensible thing to do, to go back to bed..... Oh you mean in life, in general. Sorry.

I was just on the verge of leaving one job in London, as a manager in a large photographic darkroom, (pre-digital days) where I'd worked for about 10 years, for another closer to home in Kent, with a business publisher. They gave me a team of 7 people, and then told me they were being replaced with a sub-contractor, and I was supposed to manage the changeover. So I knew their fate before meeting them, and about six months before they did. Which was "interesting".

My To Do list for today / diary of what I actually did
Although it's only 7:20 am, it's fairly clear that I'm not going to be a Captain of Industry today.
There is a large pile of dishes, upbraiding me from the kitchen, and the hoover could probably do with an airing. After which I plan to go to the narrow boat museum at Stoke Bruerne, to see if there is anything much there to photograph. I start another proper job next week, so I'm making the most of my final days of freedom.

Snacks I enjoy
Not really a snack man to honest. Packet of plain crisps in the pub sometimes, or cheese and biscuits of an evening, if I'm still hungry again after dinner. Buffet pork pies - do they count as a snack?...Or toast? Actually that said, although I eat very little chocolate (for one so generously proportioned) I am working my way through a pack of Kit Kat dark, this week. But only because I can't resist a special offer on the Tesco website.

Things I would do if I were a Billionaire
1. Give West Ham the funds to buy back all their decent players.
2. Buy out Manchester United and immediately close them down.
3. Ditto Arsenal.
4. Fill a long wheel base Land Rover with tons of camera gear and disappear for years on end to remote parts of the world to pursue landscape photography......
5....And have the buffet pork pies flown in by private jet.

Three of my bad habits
1. Throwing food away that might be a teensy bit passed its eat-by date, in case it kills me.
2. Interrupting people mid-sentence if they are boring me.
3. Attempting witty banter with shopkeepers and bar staff. It never works. They hate it.

Five Places I have lived
1. A womb.
2. A cottage in a field just off the A26.
3. A farmhouse, on a farm, just off the the A26.
4. A flat in Tonbridge, at least a mile from the A26.
5. This cottage near Northampton. Actually quite close to the A45. (Is this what they mean by "upwardly mobile"?)

Five jobs I have had
1. Saturday Incompetent at Dixons. (1 year)
2. All and every kind of summer farm work (On and off )
3. Photographic Technician (13 years)
4. Publishing Mediocrity (7 years)
5. Lamb to the Slaughter, on the front desk of a youth advisory drop in centre (6 months)

Five people who write interesting blogs whom I shall now tag
(Usual disclaimers apply. If you've already done it, or can't be arsed, don't bother)

Frankie at Veg Cottage
Petunias Gardener across the pond
Matron, down on her allotment
Antipodes Girl, somewhere in France
Gnome, in wild and woolly Caledonia

Bigger, Faster, More!...................

Now things are a bit more secure on the job front, I went out yesterday and bought a few more bits for my container garden. I'd been holding off for a while until I knew whether I would be staying here much longer, but now I feel confident enough to put down some roots. (Sorry - bad pun.)

This strawberry planter was going for half price in the local garden centre, and with 9 plants cost less than £30. I'm not 100% convinced that this will be a very productive way of growing them, but I'm willing to test it. I have a range of varieties, which will hopefully spread the cropping season a bit: Cambridge Favourite x 3, Pegaus x 3, Florence x 2, Pandora x 1.

I also bought some plastic troughs to increase my tiny acreage a little. I was tempted to by nicer, bigger, wooden or terracotta versions, but the plastic ones have the advantage that even when fully grown, I can pick them up easily and move them around. A distinct benefit in a small space, particulary as the sunniest spot where they will produce best, is also where the barbecue has to go from time to time.

In two of them I have sown carrots, and some "cut 'n' come again" lettuce, the other two I planted with Dill, Parsley, Rosemary, Corriander and mint, which I bought in pots ready to go straight out.

The tomatoes will go in hanging baskets, from brackets on the large post you can see in the background. I went for the bog standard variety for baskets called "Tumbling Tom"...or, as my allotmenteering mate Steve Seagull called them " Those ones that always look good on the packet."

Indoors I have runner beans, Climbing beans, Spring onions, courgettes and tomatoes just germinating. Although it may turn colder again in May, I don't think there will be much chance of frost, so this lot can go out in a couple of weeks.

I could fit in some more tubs, but I'm clearly making a rod for my own back when it comes to watering in the summer. I know people like Lottie manage their allotments with little or no water at all, but containers, filled with multipurpose compost, will dry out very quickly. As I have to carry cans of water from the kitchen, through the lounge, and down the far end of the garden, there's probably a sensible limit to how much I want to be irrigating every other day.

The jury is still out however, on planting some charlotte potatoes in sacks. I know I can buy them in Tesco "as cheap as chips", but they would be interesting to grow, taste better, and fill up an untidy space by the pigsty (as once was).

It looks as though the grapevine is just about to burst into life again as well. Ideally I had intended to chop it back a lot harder over the winter, when it was dormant, so that we'll get better fruit this season. But the best time to do is late Jan - early Feb, before the sap starts rising, and I was in Devon then, so it will just have to wait until next year I guess.

You Can't Keep A Good Man Down........

As regular perusers of these pages will be aware, I have not been overly exerting myself on the work front of late…... where “of late”, ought perhaps to read “for more or less the last three years”.

This incorrigible state of laxity is set to come to and end very soon however, as shock of all shocks….. I have only gone and got a job!

On May 1st I will start work as an administrator for a company near here, who report on environmental issues for the construction industry.

An alarm clock and a lunch box need to be acquired, as do a couple of new suits and a shiny corporate smile.

This startling development is certainly not before time. The first (planned) year of ease and indolence was very nice, the second not sooooo bad, as I was focussed on the house move, and still had expectations of a swift return to work..... Even if my finances did disappear down the Swanee in the meanwhile.

These last eight months of niggling injury and frustratingly slow recovery though, have been tortuous, so I am mightily relieved to have finally turned a corner…... Knowing verbatim, the script of every single episode of “Homes Under The Hammer” and “To Buy Or Not To Buy” is no doubt a singular achievement, but compares poorly against having an income I find.

My new employers are based in a delightful rural setting, a mere 15 minutes drive away, and on a route that also has one other advantage ……

It passes an allotment site.

Hmmmmmm……………………

Oundle Bound.....

I went to Oundle yesterday, for a day out, to take some photographs, and to enjoy my improved mobility, both on foot and in the car.

Situated in the rather under-appreciated county of Cambridgeshire, between Northampton and Peterborough, this market town is one of the most pictureseque and architecturally pleasing in the region; if not the whole country.

Constructed almost entirely out of Oolitic Sandstone, the old part of the town has a wonderful, honey coloured facade, that despite weathering and traffic pollution still looks fantastic in any light.

Sadly however, like most places today, it is completely choked with traffic, and a forrest of ugly, unsympathetic road signs.

I managed to wander round for about an hour, taking a few shots as below, before holing in up in The Crown for "Ham, egg, & chips"....A rather late "breakfast of champions".

By the way, if you happen to be reading this from America, please believe me that everywhere in the UK is just like this..... There are buxom barmaids with foaming mugs of ale at every inn door, eldery spinsters on bicyles swerve to avoid retired army Colonels. Small boys playing at conkers run between fluffy white sheep that wander about in the lanes. Roses grow in the hedgerows twelve months of the year, it never rains, nobody ever swears, and everyone is on first name terms with Hugh Grant and the Queen!

Anyway, here are some pictures of Oundle......

The Money Pit.............

Things are currently going OK on the transport front you’ll be glad to know, but I am now starting to experience the expensive reality of being a car owner.

After motoring over to Daventry at the weekend, (I prefer describe it that way, as it conjures up images of flickery 1940’s “You Can Be Sure Of Shell” public information films) and over a couple of pints with my mate The Barbarian, he casually mentioned that given my car’s advanced dotage, I ought to think about changing the cam belt,….. whatever THAT is.

To be fair to him, he did query this with the dealer when we first went to look at it, but I was too busy thinking “Red, Shiny!, Red, Shiny!, Red, Shiny!” to pay much attention to it.

A quick e-mail to “Honest John”, the Daily Telegraph’s excellent motoring agony uncle, saw him reply overnight, advising me I should certainly get it changed. And moreover, also use the proper Ford “pulleys and tensioner”….Whatever THOSE are!

Now despite my self confessed engineering naivety, I still think it not unreasonable to assume that a modern 20th century Zetec engine, might have at its heart, something more advanced than a giant rubber band and some pulleys, but hey, I'm not an expert, and can only go on what I'm told.

I am further advised that whilst it might never happen, were the cam belt to actually fail, something mighty unpleasant of an “exploding spaghetti” like nature would happen in the engine, which would undoubtedly prove either expensive, terminal, or both.

So I suppose I should get it seen to, if only for the peace of mind.

All of which clearly demonstrates why the motorcar is often referred to as a “Money Pit”….. A vast black hole into which you regularly throw bundles of cash, never to see it again.

It also reminds me of another old saying, (which I quote here entirely tongue-in-cheek of course)……

…………“If it’s got tits or tyres it’s gonna be trouble.”

Yankee Doodle Dandy?..............

I'm trying a new variety of climbing bean this year, as on reflection, a whole wigwam full of traditional runner beans is too much for one person to endure.



I chose this one called "Kentucky Wonder Wax" soley because it looked good in the picture on the packet.

I'm quite shallow like that.

Perhaps Petunia's Gardener might have some experience or opinions on it?

'Anging's Too Good Fer 'Em.....

Well it had to happen....Last night some delightful individual tried to wrench the door mirror off my car. It's actually a quiet road, in a very "nice" part of the village that I park on, but nowhere is idiot free in the 21st century is it?

I knew that a new (as in different) car would attract attention sooner or later, so I can only conclude we are to assume two weeks is par for the course these days.

It was probably kids. Most of the low level car trouble round here is, and after all, a door mirror is not an item you can steal, or even have much fun with in the street....Just the "satisfaction" of knowing you caused someone else a problem.

I can get another one for £25 quid, so it's not a great loss, just a sigh provoking annoyance.

I blame the parents myself.......Not all parents obviously..... Just specifically those off whichever malcontent was responsible.

They should have had the good manners to have had a headache instead of a hankering, the night they conceived the little scrote.

A Fly In The Ointment...............

I’ll admit that I like to keep my home nice and warm, and have had the heating turned up again during this recent cold snap, but I hadn’t realised quite how hot it must be until a small mosquito landed on my arm in the lounge yesterday….

No hang on minute,…. it’s not a mosquito, it’s a fruit fly…..No, it’s not a fruit fly,…… it’s a sciarid fly .......Bugger!

The sciarid ( or "sciara") fly looks just like a fruit fly, to all but its own ilk presumably, but is an indoor garden pest. There are several different variations in the sciarid family, and they are often generally referred to as fungus gnats. The above picture makes them look quite scary, but in fact they are very small and midgey. Basically they love warm ,wet soil or compost, where the adults emerge from, and return to, to lay their eggs. These then hatch into tiny, tiny larvae, which feed on the roots and soft parts of seedlings.

A serious outbreak in a greenhouse can decimate tender plants, and it’s a particular nemesis of cacti fanciers apparently. Even a modest infestation can weaken a tray of veg seedlings and transfer the viruses that lead to “damping off”.

A quick inspection of the pots on my window sill unmistakably confirmed where the trouble was, and how I had contracted it.

A week ago I planted some climbing beans, courgette seeds, and spring onions in modules, and had brought them indoors to germinate. Not wanting to waste anything, and trying to be environmentally friendly, I had used up the remains of last year’s potting compost, from a bag in the shed…..Big mistake. ….Always use fresh, unopened compost each year, unless you are going to heat sterilise it first.

The flies had holed up in it over the winter, been smuggled indoors, and had suddenly sprung to life in my sub-tropical kitchen.

There are a couple of things you can do to try and control the problem, if confined to a small area or number of pots.

Firstly, remove any obviously contaminated containers and isolate them in another room where the flies can’t emigrate to other plants. I put the beans and courgettes in the bathroom, and shut the door on them, as they are now sprouting, and I don’t really want to chuck them out. The onions that had not yet germinated all got the heave-ho I’m afraid. I’ll have to start them again later.

Secondly I put down a saucer of cider vinegar in the window, which supposedly lures the adult flies to an appley death…. After going out for the morning however, I returned to find, not the fly encrusted bowl of doom I had hoped for, but merely a house that stinks of vinegar.

I have now replaced it with a saucer of red wine, which whilst being a criminal waste, is at least not offensive to live with, and is supposed to have the same effect.

Now I have to wait a few days for existing adults to die off, before starting my seedlings again in new compost.

The only other problem is that they may have already laid eggs in the soil of rubber plant in the lounge. This is unlikely to hurt the rubber plant, as it is the toughest specimen in the world. (Purely on the basis that I have had it for over 25 years and have not killed it yet.) They could re-emerge to re-infect new pots coming in though, so I’ll have to keep an eye in it.

As they need moisture to survive, I’ll let the plant dry right out (No change there then) before watering it again, and put a layer of sand on the top of all the pots, as this dries faster than compost, and acts a deterrent barrier.

If all of this doesn’t work, I’ll just spray them……. Attempting to be eco-conscious got me into this, so chemicals can get me out!

Not Waving But Drowning............

I've been thinking a bit about genetics today, albeit in a very loose, sofa based, ceiling gazing fashion.

Take me and my sister for example..... Although a tadge bit younger than me, but she too only became a motorist relatively recently.(I stuck it out for 40 years before grasping the greasy gearstick of freedom, but then I always was more stubborn. Or maybe just more backward.)

Of itself, only a small coincidence I grant, but then there is also the business of hand signals to consider as well.

Lil' Sis is qualified in British Sign Language, or "Tic-Tac for deaf people" as I may have occasionally referred to it... In fact she's 2IC in a school for the deaf, very dedicated, a credit to our parents, and really knows her stuff.

I on the other hand only know that the international sign for "England" is the same as the sign for "Chips", and how to say "F**k off you W****r" in BSL.

(I'm a comparative novice then compared to this rather rude lady)
***Caution: Parental Guidance!***

Although these scant gesticular skills may not be of much practical use, nor very likely to endear me to the deaf community, I'm beginning to think there must be something in the genes, as in the space of a week I have become fluent in "Apologetic Driver".

Only this morning I was able, simply by waving a regal hand in the rear-view mirror, to convey all the following meanings....

1. Sorry I pulled out in front of you. I honestly thought it was my turn.

2. Sorry I stalled in front of you. It was the clutch who did it. I hardly touched
it.

3. Was that a mini-roundabout? It looked a lot like a crossroads.

4. Yes I am new to this Mr.Speedfreak, that's why I slow down for bends. And slight curves.

5. Actually I've no idea why you just honked me there. No... Let's not stop and discuss it in that tone. Let's just let bygones be bygones.

6. Hello pretty girl on a horse. Those jodhpurs do wonders for you! I just nearly crashed!!


........Just call me the McCririck of motoring.

April Falls Day.......?

Spring is here !!!

De Fence Against De Felines.....

Grrrrrrrr......!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My efforts of yesterday seem only to have encouraged the Phantom Feline Defecator to further atrocities.....

Totally scorning my strategically angled sticks and generous dousing of cat repellent, it has raked over my seed bed in the night, and left all the soil in a mound in the middle.......But only in the one tub I had actually planted. It completely ignored the other two!

Knowing that when I went to salvage things I would sooner or later find the steaming booby prize in the bran tub of life, this was not the type of "find the lady" which I very much care to play.

So......As you can see, I have stepped up my countermeasures, and erected a fence around the tubs. I have also put down a much stronger smelling, granular chemical repellent into the bargain.....We shall see if this does the trick or not.

I was going to call this post "Escape from Catditz"......but I want to keep the little sods out, not in!

Mediterranean Stick Garden......

All weekend I've been reading posts from my friends in the allotmenteering fraternity, about how miserable the weather has been, and how they struggled to get anything done. So I am feeling rather smug that I eschewed gardening on the Sabbath, and went to the pub instead.

Today however saw a lovely Spring like morning in these parts...... The sort of day that makes you glad to be unemployed!...... And able to garden to your own timetable, rather than the one dictated by Mammon.

First (and last) of all I needed to tackle the tubs in my tiny plot, left empty all winter while I was away.

A mere 15 mins work resulted in this magnificent crop of sticks......!

OK, so I cheated, and planted fully grown sticks, in order to try and stop the all cats in the neighbourhood from using my veg patch AS A FUCKING LAVATORY!

After I had shovelled off and replaced the top ten inches of previously contaminated soil, I did also interplant the sticks with radishes, carrots and two varieties of lettuce.

I've decided, for this year at least, to accept that this mini-culture is not, and never actually will be, an allotment. And therefore, not to try and raise loads of stuff that doesn't really suit tub growing.

I plan instead to settle for salad crops, some runner beans, and maybe a few tomatoes in hanging baskets.... And perhaps a strawberry barrel......But in truth I suspect it all depends on how many seed catalogues I read.

I can't take on anything more at present, until I'm properly agile enough in the leg department to do the digging and grovelling an allotment requires; so this year will be an exercise in patience as much as anything else.

After I had sown the seeds though, the clouds parted, and turned my little corner into a veritable Mediterranean sun trap!

So there was only one thing for it.........

Life In The Very Slow Lane.........

I’ve been out on a few practice runs in the car, trying to acclimatise myself to solo driving. So far I’m happy to report that I’ve not hit anything, but have managed to reduce my personal stress quotient from Level 1 (white knuckled, jaw clenching terror) down to Level 2 (deeply concentrated anxiety.)…. So that’s something I suppose.

Today I filled up with petrol. A completely unremarkable, everyday (“quotidian” even) thing to all you experienced motorists, but another first for me. Walking into the shop afterwards to pay, and casually saying “Number 6 please”, was one of those little events that make you feel strangely grown up and sensible. No matter how old you already are. I was suddenly so full of manly confidence I could even have asked the woman for condoms! .....Had I needed any of course.

Things I have learned about driving so far…..

1) Aren’t the roads nice and quiet at 6:00am. If only they were like this all the time!

2) I am already beginning so develop “Motorists Gripe”. A syndrome that causes suffers to mutter darkly under their breath about speed humps and so called “safety cameras”.

3) I am rubbish at parking…. No, really Rubbish.

In my defence though, the clutch on this car is very different to the one I learnt in, and the engine, although small, seems much revvy-er (is that a word?). And it helps not a bit of course, that my house is on the apex of a sharp bend, on a steep hill, where everyone parks nose to tail in the street. My close quarters manoeuvring is not anywhere near smooth yet, and nestling neatly up to the kerb, in a tight space, without all manner of unseemly shunting and swearing, is completely beyond me.

Yesterday, as I made my final approach checks, I spotted my neighbour coming out of his house, so I’m ashamed to say I that drove to the end of the road, and went to the shop, buying a paper and a can of coke I didn’t need, in the hopes that he was going out, and would create a bigger gap in which I could safely abandon it. Fortunately he was, he did, and I could.

After I got indoors I gave myself a stern lecture of course, as this is clearly a ridiculous way to carry on. .........

Next time I’ll just get the paper.

Winter Weather.....

Once I could venture out and about it was not long before I was pestering to be driven to places of scenic interest, so I could photograph out of a car window instead.

All parents are vunerable to "pester power". The fact that mine are retired does not make the slightest difference.

Watch The Birdy.......

As someone with a serious camera habit, I had to find things to photograph whilst I was away.

During the period of time I was confined to the house, this meant hours and hours of "wildlife photography", otherwise described as trying to snap birds through the conservatory windows.

I will only subject you to a few of the more succesful efforts.

Costa Del Devon....

They certainly do have some serious sunsets down in the West Country. These were laid on for me by my parents last November.

Reminds me more of The Serengeti than the South Hams.

"2, 4, 6, 8, Motorway" ?

Bit of a busy week by my recent standards.

I finally arrived home in Northants last weekend, and immediately did what any enlightened 21st century man would do after a period of painful separation.... Spent 2 days of quality time with my widescreen telly, revelling in all the hot & cold running sport, playing my cd's, and gazing with a fondly tearful eye at my quietly glowing computer screen...... Who says love cannot endure.

Eventually I managed to force myself to deal with tons of post for previous residents, call the landlord about the poxy, temperamental boiler (which I do not love in the slightest) and generally catch up with all the stuff you have to do to keep life ticking over.

My patch of garden doesn't look to have fared to badly over the winter, and is remarkably weed free. Unfortunately it is not free of unwanted fertilizer, as it seems that in my absence one of the local felines has reappointed my three planting tubs as one vast "cat-lav". An unpleasant task awaits, when I am fit enough to grovel about on hands and knees again.

Speaking of knees, mine have had a pretty easy time of it lately, what with no stairs to climb, and very little walking to do. So now that the Achilles & ankle situation seems to be improving, and I am pushing myself to do a bit more, they have adopted a most unhelpful attitude, and are reluctant to bend down or scale stairs. The peculiarities of the human body never cease to amaze and vex me.

Good job I bought a car today then!.......Just in case you are someone who knows me in the real world, (and I know a few who do actually read this drivel) I'll repeat that so it sinks in....

Yup....HE BOUGHT A CAR!........Cue panic and despair, insurance industry hikes, and probable threat to house prices. But only if you read the Daily Mail.

I am possibly the worlds most untalented and unwilling motorist, and have avoided car ownership all my adult life. But needs must when the Devil drives....and believe me you'd be far better off taking a lift from him than chancing your luck with me.

It was made several years ago by some disgruntled artisans from Dagenham, and is as red as a Shop Steward's manifesto. It appears to have been cosseted and well treated by the old codger who owned it before though, so it should in fact feel right at home with me. (No, I will not be naming it. That's so a girl thing.)

The one plus point that I can see in being a driver, is that it gives me an excuse to buy more technology......... Who needs friends when you can have Sat-Nav!

Halfway Home.......

My sojourn in Devon is over. A quick four hour dash up the M3 on Saturday, has seen me both halfway home geographically, and "back home" figuratively, as I am in Tonbridge again.

I'm just loitering here for a week, staying with friends, whilst attempting to buy a car. As I have a) Never owned a vehicle before, much less bought one. b) Am on a budget. c) Am a complete mechanical fuckwit; it seems a much better bet to do this here, where I can call on the sage opinions of the "the boys in the pub", rather than try to avoid getting ripped off in Northampton.

After some serious research I have decided it needs to be a reliable runner, big enough for my legs to fit under the steering wheel, and prefferably not a putrid colour. Beyond these exacting criteria I am open to anything the the Honest Johns of the region have to offer.

Next week, when I am finally back at Quotidian Towers, with my own computer and all my funky sofware I'll have a mountian of Devonian wildlife pictures to upload. Meanwhile I am getting to grips with my host's laptop. This is proving a frustrating exercise, as despite being a tip-top, modern machine, the keyboard layout has my sausage fingers completely foxed. Give me a big clunky desktop any day. I keep accidentally turnING THE CAPSLOCK ON , AND REPOSitioning the cursor all over the shop. This post has taken me nearly an hour to type so far, and it's not even very funny.

Probably a good cue to stop wAFFLING, and start reading Autotrader.

Some Random Thoughts Upon Crutches......

1 . Spending any length of time on crutches provides an interesting insight into the British psyche. People whom you have never met before, in shops or pubs say, will leap aside with alacrity, beaming and gesturing to let you pass. It is as if being seen to do the right thing is almost as important as the actual doing of it. We are still, above all, a terribly “polite” nation it appears. There are clearly rules nonetheless. Attempt to enter a busy bar on crutches, and people will fall over themselves to open doors, or give up their seat for you. The latter though only AFTER you have got your drink. The average pub-goer will allow you part the Red Sea like Moses, but only as far as the bar. Thereafter you must expect to stand awkwardly on one leg, for any amount of time, whilst everyone who was waiting before you is served…… We British love to help the inconvenienced, but will not under any circumstances countenance someone “pushing in”!

2. There is no verb I can think of that adequately describes the forward motion of someone on crutches. Both “hopping” and “swinging” are not quite right, and the English language has not yet seen fit to recognise “crutching” as proper word. I’m currently favouring “ propelling” as a description of how I launch myself along, but only in the sense of imparting movement. To be propelling in any spiral context of course, might suggest that you have one crutch shorter than the other.

3. It’s marvellous what uses you can put crutches to apart from walking with them. The dedicated invalid will soon learn to turn lights on and off, open and close curtains, load video tapes, close doors, operate pedal bins, and indeed carry out any number of other acrobatic manoeuvres. After a little practice they are especially good for picking things up with, rather like an oversized and stylistically challenged pair of chopsticks. I struggle to pick up rice with proper chopsticks, but I can pick up a banana with my crutches no problem.

I have also fantasised that they would be ideal for tripping up escaping burglars, or fleeing bank robbers. Sadly though, the opportunity has not yet presented itself.

4. A quick googling shows that there is apparently great debate in theological circles about people sometimes using religion as a crutch. Not being of a particularly spiritual inclination myself, I am unclear on the efficacy of this idea. Being tall and of hefty build however, (and no doubt heavy with the weight of sin) I prefer to put my trust in reinforced aluminium at present, rather than a wing and a prayer.

Despatches from Devon...............

Just a very quick update from a suddenly cold and windy town somewhere in Devon, and a thank you for all the "get well" messages and emails.

Well I had my surgery, and all seems to be OK. Afterwards I was offered any colour of cast that I liked, so with season of social torture and crap TV fast approaching I naturally chose black. It suited my mood at this time of year, and looks very stylish.... In invalid terms that it is.

The leg is progressing fine though, it's just my sanity that is suffering due to being very limited in where I can go and what I can manage to do.... I never thought before now that I would ever tire of a life comprising lots of intensive sitting down, interspersed with bouts of frantic snoozing; but relaxation turns out not all it's cracked up to be.

It also transpires that I am a liability on crutches , and have, in Hollywood parlance, "been doing my own stunts". Hopefully however, I can get the plaster cast off at the end of his month, and start on some physio. Possibly I may get home to Quotidian Towers sometime in March.

Have to hop off now as my library-based Internet session is about to "time out"

Entering Hibernation.......

As of next week, posts to this blog will cease for a while, as I will not have internet access very often.

Unfortunately, my tiresome achilles tendon gave up the ghost completely last week and landed me in A&E for the evening. A trip through the MRI Scanner (which for anyone who has not seen one, is much the same as a going through the Stargate, but without any aliens) reveals I have 2.5cm gap where it should be connected to my ankle......Baaaad tendon!

The highlight of the evening was when the doctor asked me if I heard anything untoward as it snapped. This apparently helps them assess the exent of the damage.

"Afraid I couldn't hear anything over the screaming and swearing" I quipped.

The upshot is that I have to have an operation to repair it, followed by 8 weeks in plaster and several more of physio. This brings into play an "achilles heel" of another kind. One related to my cottage, which has two flights of narrow and very steep, twisting stairs. Not something I could ever manage on crutches.

Hence, until sometime in January probably, I shall be staying with my folks in their nice, level, totally stairless bungalow in Devon..... Far, far, away from t'internet.

Apparently, once I am hopping about again, I can log on at the library in the nearest town, (Oooooh the bright lights!) so I shall still be able to sniff the ether occasionally I expect.

Quotidian then, will in fact just be hibernating....

Cheers all.

GM

Fire And Brimstone.....(ii)

Fire And Brimstone.....(i)

Mobility, or rather, the lack of it, is still a bit of a problem at the moment. Accordingly I havn't been getting up to much of blogworthy note lately. I have however been champing at the bit, and bucking in the traces, to get out with the camera while there is still a bit of Autum colour left. So taking advantage of a modest improvement following my weekly physio session, I hauled myself off to Abington Park in Northampton, where I could wander around slowly on soft ground, and do something more creative than the Telegraph crossword for a change.

As city parks go it's a rather good one, with an excellent bistro style cafe, where swearing photographers can flop down for a rest. And a cappucino.

I've split my attempts at autumnal artisty into two posts, otherwise the sellotape and ticky-tack that holds Blogger together will burst apart at the seams no doubt.... How I wish those clever chaps at Google would please sort the fucking thing out!

(Click to enlarge - If it lets you that is.)

Night Vision......

The evenings may be drawing in, but at least my tub garden is yielding some useful little chantenay carrots, to enable me to see in the dark of course.

Although small, this variety have a distinctly sweet flavour, and are ideal for cooking as "Vichy Carrots".

This just basically involves par boiling the sliced carrots in mineral water for about 5 mins (originally Vichy water hence the name, but you can use any sparkling water, or indeed still bottled water with a pinch of bicarb) then transferring them to a pan with some melted butter a teaspoon of sugar, and some salt and pepper, and simmering them until they are soft and the liquid has reduced to a glaze.

Or, you can just bung everything in the one pan with the water, (but not too much of it) and boil it all down in one go. Either way, they are usually served garnished with a little finely chopped parsley.

It's by far the best way to eat carrots, and allegedly even kids like them, though thankfully I am in no postion to check.

Macro-a-go-go......

Nothing of any great event to report in the last few days - Just some physio, a spot of light job hunting, and a lot of armchair sport's viewing.

During the one sunny day this week (whichever it was) I did muster the enthusiasm to go as far as the back yard and take a few close up, macro photos of autumnal type stuff.

I'm guessing this is Belladonna or the "Deadly Nightshade". I can't tell for sure until the berries mature. There's certainly masses of it growing all along the wall between our path and nextdoor's garden. Good job no one has any kids!

CORRECTION: OK.....10 points for everyone who has been sniggering over my ignorance above!
Having just seen some Belladonna on "Ray Mears Does Blokey Stuff In The Woods" it's clearly not that plant. ( Which has bigger purple flowers.) Turns out, from a bit of intensive googling that it is Solanum Jasminoides or the "Potato Vine"...nonetheless it is still a part of the Solanum or nightshade famlily...so I wasn't as far out as I could have been. (man)


This chap is a Common Hoverfly.

Although there are several species that come under that general name, with very subtle distinctions in terms of geographical area and habits, the one thing that they have in common, is that they are all indeed, really frightfully common.








And despite looking like the skin of a some exotic reptile, this is actually a macro image of a grapevine leaf.

OK, so I boosted the colour of this one a bit in Photoshop.... So shoot me!.. I'm a photographer not a bloody botanist!





This however is definitely the slightly less
lethal cousin to the killer at the top of this post, the "Woody Nightshade" or "Bittersweet".

Not that I'd let that persuade me to try it though.











And this is a Cyclamen about which I know nothing.

It grows in a pot....In my yard.

......Did I mention I'm not a botanist?

This Week I Have Been Mostly..............

1. Eating things I should not.
I blame internet shopping for the kind of pointless, calorie laden, impulse purchases that arrived with my Tesco delivery the other day. (Look, Waitrose didn’t have a slot available and I was down to the last tin of foie gras Ok! I’m not proud.) They tempt you with all the special offers in one place, and I always feel somehow inadequate if I don’t take advantage of a good “2 for 1” deal. To wit, two bars of Lindt Exellence dark chocolate with bitter orange & almonds. I don’t normally eat much chocolate, but if this is what “getting touch in with your feminine side” is all about, on the basis of this delicious stuff I’m going to have to be very careful.

Fortunately Tesco inadvertently restored my ying yang balance by including a product I did not order, a pack of instant microwave “flamer” bur