pumpkinstrokemarrow

The men from the council have helpfully pushed the old leaf mould - maybe three years old now - into a heap from which it is a lot easier to extract than it was. Brown peaty stuff with quite a strong sweet smell and full of convolvulus roots. They have also started the new Autumn leaf heap after an absence of at least a year so that is good too. Thus prompted, have started on next year's potato trenches. Dig out a row about two feet across by a spade deep, add 12 barrows of leaf mould, back fill to give long thin barrows. This year had a strong growth of weeds on the barrows by the time one came to plant the potatoes, at least three months after barrow creation. But the potatoes weren't too bad at all. Just finishing up the midgets now. Three quarters of the way through the first barrow. Must be getting older the way the first serious dig of the Autumn made me sweat.

Rat traps remain undisturbed. Maybe the fox really did earn his keep.

Interested to see that the chief Muslim in the country - an ex airline pilot from Dhaka I think - has seen fit to tell us Anglos of all the good things we might learn from his faith. Charity, modesty, family values and that sort of thing. I dare say it is true that that sort of thing is a bit stronger in the Muslim community that it is with the rest of us - but we will see if it survives another 20 years of assimilation.

At about the same time, I see from the DT that a young Muslim lady is getting exercised because hairdressers for young lady Anglos do not seem to want to employ her as a trainee because she wants to keep her own hair covered. I wonder whether her parents really want her working in such a den of iniquity where married and unmarried women sit around in a more or less public place with their heads uncovered? Maybe other parts too. Even allowing men who are neither eunuchs nor relatives to touch them. I am sure it would be very corrupting for her. Do the parents know? I wonder what stricter Muslim ladies do about hairdressing? Do they have to go to places which are staffed exclusively by women and which are without windows so that stray men cannot peek in at what is going on? Perhaps such hairdressers have also laid on a supply of Polish lady plumbers and electricians for when that sort of thing needs attending to.

Do they need lady dentists and doctors as well? I recall from the Golden Lotus, that a high caste Chinese lady from the time of our middle ages, would not dream of letting a doctor (who would be a man) examine her. He would have to manage with whatever he could make of a hand poked out between the curtains. Perhaps the Chinese medicine mens' interest in finger nails is a relic of this. I remember being told that all kinds of foul ailments can be diagnosed from the pattern of lines and what not on finger nails. I was told that mine reveal something horrid wrong with my kidneys. And if you are brave enough to exhibit your toe nails who knows what they might reveal?

Nearer home we have an interesting squabble between animal lovers. Another young lady, this one an Anglo animal lover, got herself sacked from the local childrens' farm (zoo might be a more informative label), for something or other. On the strength of a diploma in animal welfare or something from the local technical college, she has now reported her former employer for various offences against animal well being. DEFRA have sent in the heavies to see what is going on. Headlines in the free paper. Dark talk of unpleasant infestations under the skin of sheep and low grade goat toe clipping. The owner of the zoo (which boasts, amongst other attractions, a large barn full of things for children to play on when it is raining: much more fun than pigs. Plus, no doubt, a shop and bistro with which to entertain the waiting Mums and Dads) is resisting stoutly. These are real animals she says, not pets. It is not realistic to cosset them as if they were. No real farmer could afford such a thing (at which point I started to wonder what her own background was. Doubt if she is a stock woman born and bred). And after that I start to wonder whether I ought to be a veggie after all. If we are not paying farmers enough to keep their animals decent, maybe we should not be eating them. And according to the Grauniad, the price of animals at market continues to be a very small fraction of what we pay at Mr S. So small that in a bad year hardly worth the cost of sending them there. If true, it is a shame that the producer is not managing to get a bigger share of the cake.