Thursday, April 03, 2008
Shock for the old
Overtaken today, on the crest of Howell Hill heading towards Epsom - by a middle aged lady cyclist all dolled up in blue and black lycra and crash helmet. Wouldn't have happened a few years ago.
Calves' liver for tea last night. Good gear - and it remains a surprise how raw one can eat the stuff. Wouldn't work with pigs' liver. But I fear we are coming the end of the crinkly cabbage - they are starting to blow inside, getting ready to bolt. My allotment January Kings have also either snuffed it or started to bolt - those that are left that is. The slugs had a good time of it even if we didn't; not that the heads were all that hot anyway. Maybe I am going to have to start feeding the ground a bit more? Frightful expense; would push the cost per cabbage to some horrendous mulitple of what the shop can knock them out for. And as for the slugs, does one want to get into slug warfare all through the cold half of the year? Would copper wire keep them out of the cabbage beds? Would the copper wire be pinched by the same gent. who made off with the fag end of my roll of line wire? Although fag is hardly the appropriate word. I cannot recall ever seeing anyone smoke on this allotment. Presumably still legal.
Two fag ends of dream to report. One involved my being rather alarmed about the very long cable on my mouse. Which seemed to run half way through a building and end up in some complicated computer room. I kept pestering the help desk people about it without achieving anything other than getting on their nerves. Then cut to a large and splendid (if dingy) office, of a sort now extinct, at least for us middle orders. 16 feet long, 8 feet wide and 12 feet high (clearly designed by a mason or at least someone otherwise into numerology). Desk at one end with sash window behind and office otherwise empty. Painted a dingy yellow/cream colour.
The last half row of onion sets now in and the balance of the bed made up with three and a half (short) rows of perpetual beet now in - the last row being a bit wet and grotty (the Western end row),0 perhaps reflecting its being dug when I was getting a bit tired and wanting my afternoon tea and Easter cake (originally with the apostular number of yellow marzipan balls). Copper wire defences yet to be erected.
My dubbullo friends will be alarmed to hear that the Spring container of gear from China failed to achieve lift off. Something about terrible weather in the vicinity of the relevant factory. The crew couldn't get into work for days on end. Loss of the shipment has, I think it was reported, pushed the Hornby people into making a profits warning. On the other hand I can report that the Tunbridge Wells outlet is well stocked with landscape, as opposed to rolling stock. Including rolls of turf and the smallest model cows that I think I have ever seen.
Calves' liver for tea last night. Good gear - and it remains a surprise how raw one can eat the stuff. Wouldn't work with pigs' liver. But I fear we are coming the end of the crinkly cabbage - they are starting to blow inside, getting ready to bolt. My allotment January Kings have also either snuffed it or started to bolt - those that are left that is. The slugs had a good time of it even if we didn't; not that the heads were all that hot anyway. Maybe I am going to have to start feeding the ground a bit more? Frightful expense; would push the cost per cabbage to some horrendous mulitple of what the shop can knock them out for. And as for the slugs, does one want to get into slug warfare all through the cold half of the year? Would copper wire keep them out of the cabbage beds? Would the copper wire be pinched by the same gent. who made off with the fag end of my roll of line wire? Although fag is hardly the appropriate word. I cannot recall ever seeing anyone smoke on this allotment. Presumably still legal.
Two fag ends of dream to report. One involved my being rather alarmed about the very long cable on my mouse. Which seemed to run half way through a building and end up in some complicated computer room. I kept pestering the help desk people about it without achieving anything other than getting on their nerves. Then cut to a large and splendid (if dingy) office, of a sort now extinct, at least for us middle orders. 16 feet long, 8 feet wide and 12 feet high (clearly designed by a mason or at least someone otherwise into numerology). Desk at one end with sash window behind and office otherwise empty. Painted a dingy yellow/cream colour.
The last half row of onion sets now in and the balance of the bed made up with three and a half (short) rows of perpetual beet now in - the last row being a bit wet and grotty (the Western end row),0 perhaps reflecting its being dug when I was getting a bit tired and wanting my afternoon tea and Easter cake (originally with the apostular number of yellow marzipan balls). Copper wire defences yet to be erected.
My dubbullo friends will be alarmed to hear that the Spring container of gear from China failed to achieve lift off. Something about terrible weather in the vicinity of the relevant factory. The crew couldn't get into work for days on end. Loss of the shipment has, I think it was reported, pushed the Hornby people into making a profits warning. On the other hand I can report that the Tunbridge Wells outlet is well stocked with landscape, as opposed to rolling stock. Including rolls of turf and the smallest model cows that I think I have ever seen.
# posted by Jim @ 3:57 AM 
