............ another bloody Silver Gilt!

What can I say but echo the words which appeared on all my school reports with monotonous regularity, "Must try harder".

Realistically, with only 3 golds and 4 silver gilts awarded out of over 1200 allotments I should be pretty damned chuffed, and in truth I am.

After the saga with my invitation to the award ceremony, which, because of a mix up with the plot numbers wasn't received until last week, I nearly didn't win anything.

So it's time to start thinking about next seasons plans, projects and which varieties to grow.

For those of you who are vegetable and flower growers have a look at this excellent site:

http://www.vegetableseeds.net/

Heres a bit about them taken from their website:

VegetableSeeds.net is based at Cowley Old House Farm, in Preston Bissett, Buckinghamshire.

The staff are all keen vegetable growers, passionate about their jobs, and take pride in making sure that seed reaches customers in the best possible condition.

VegetableSeeds.net offers a 100% no quibble guarantee on all seeds, giving you a full refund or replacement seeds. Happy customers are very important to us.

For the 2010 season we've expanded our stock to over 400 varieties, including vegetable seeds, herb seeds and flower seeds.

We ship throughout Europe, and P&P is FREE on all seed orders. All orders are shipped next working day by Standard Class Royal Mail.

My fellow blogger and rookie allotmenteer is employing latest technology to the design and planting of his newly acquired Prospect Road plot. Mike has come across what appears on the face of it a great bit of software at http://www.growveg.com/

Here's what it says on the box:

GrowVeg.com is an online Garden Planner which helps you grow fruit and vegetables to the best of their ability, whatever the size or shape of your garden or plot.

With GrowVeg.com it is easy to draw out your garden plan and decide how best to plant it. The GrowVeg.com Garden Planner software shows how much space plants require and how to group them for maximum success, removing the need to look up planting distances and crop families.

Growing advice is just one click away as you select the plants that you wish to include, enabling you to solve problems and maximise your harvest from the space you have. An annual subscription costs just £15 (€17).

The great thing about it is that it stores a history of what you have grown where and suggests the rotational plan for the next year and at my age remembering what you did yesterday, let alone what you did six months ago, is something of an ongoing problem.

I think I may be tempted not least for the fact that, as most of you are aware by now, I didn't get where I am today by not employing the latest technology.

Remember the "dongle" ? Where would I be today without this essential item of gardening equipment - need I say more.

More importantly I can't let that young whipersnapper Millard steal a march on me!

Talking about age two weeks ago on the 13th another milestone was passed.

For those of you who weren't aware I was born on Friday 13th at number 13 Trent Road.

My father went through life telling everyone that 13 was his unlucky number.

I suppose that I should be thankful that TV hadn't been thought of and "Only Fools and Horses" wasn't broadcast on the Light programme, otherwise I could well have been named Damien.
I am not revealling my age but here is a clue.



Who could ask for more?

Yes, in a years time I will be joining my wife as an official old age pensioner and be in receipt of my £100 a week (less tax). The fact that my wife will have already received 4 years worth is, to me, one of the great mysteries of the 21st century definition of equality, particularly as the life expectancy of the female of the species in the UK is 4 years longer than the male, facts which seem to be totally glossed over by the darling little creatures.

Before I get into GrumpyOldBlogger mode heres a link to brilliant set of novels I have started reading written by Malcolm Pryce: The Louie Knight Mysteries.

They are detective stories written in the style of Raymond Chandler but set in downtown Aberystwyth. Titles include:

"Last Tango in Aberystwyth", "Don't Cry for Me Aberystwyth" and "From Aberystwyth with Love ".

Here are a couple reviews of his books:

'Noir fiction meets modern League of Gentleman weirdness in Pryce's fantstically offbeat thriller ... Pryce's deft lifting of the pace, action and deadpan tone of classic dime thrillers never lets the genre down' Scotsman

‘A sustained masterpiece of dark imagination … I am already looking forward to future volumes in this marvellously surreal Welsh noir series’ Daily Telegraph

‘Combines Monty Python absurdity with tenderness for the twisted world of noir … Add a clown, a brain in a box and an endearing gallery of grotesques and stir maliciously. Priceless’ Guardian.

I have included a link to Malcolm Pryce's site to my Recommended Reading section.

It's a while since the last post, primarily as we have been holidaying quite a lot and we are off again in just over a week. A full report will be published on our return.

Here's a snap of us relaxing over "The One" in a delightful bar in Nerja:

I must sign off now and start planning next years allotment activity. I fear I am going to need more than technology to help me maintain the standard next season as having sold our static caravan in Hastings a couple of years ago because we were unable to make much use of it, now our circumstances have changed we have just bought another one in Selsea.

"Winding down" and "weeks away" are on the agenda for 2011 but, rest assured, I will not loose touch with my loonar roots on those long (hot?) summer nights!

Life is Just a Bowl of Blueberries!

The plot thickens and I am not referring to the Mystery of the Disappearing Trainers, which I have now given up any hope of finding now that Gilbert turned up on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago NOT wearing them, but to Plot 24A Prospect North Allotments which is now exploding with produce keeping the various Baltzer household tables overflowing with soft fruit, salad and vegetables.

The fruit cage crops this year have been particularly good with pounds and pounds of strawberries, raspberries, red, black and white currants, gooseberries, blackberries just coming up to the boil and a continuous supply of blueberries off just five small bushes.

Without a doubt this has been the most productive year in my short loonar allotment adventure.

The other good news is that we have recently been joined by fellow blogger and author Mike who after a three year wait has been allocated Plot 1 next to my mate Sav, thus considerably lowering the average age of the tenant base! It has been left unworked for a year so is in a bit of a state but is nowhere near as bad as mine was when I took it over in 2007.

Just to give Mike some encouragement here are some “then” and “now” photos of Plot 24A:

2007

2010

While on the subject of allotment produce I received a communication from EvansAbove, the Welsh Bard, earlier this week. In it he included this ode in celebration of his allotmenteer mate Bernard turning up on his doorstep, “clutching a weapon of mass destruction”.

Bernard’s Big Un

As steady as an arrow, he spun his mighty marrow
Across the wide divide of Old Church Road.
Like Gareth’s pass to Phil, the memory lingers still...
It spawned a sea of soup, and this small ode.
Like Prince’s Red Corvette, Bern’s massive green courgette
Has climbed the veggie charts, and there it stays;
With onions and some toms, this monster bomb of bombs
Will keep us fed for days, and days, and days!

Talking of Wales I came across a beer rather strangely named “On the Head” brewed by Brains, the Cardiff brewery, in the Falkners Arms last week. Now it might be a custom in the mean streets of Cardiff to tip a pint “On the Head” but I would have thought “Down the Throat” would have been a more apt name for a beer in these more civilised suburbs!

Much more worrying though was the person depicted on the beer clip:

Brains and Rooney – I think you will agree a clear breach the Trades Description Act!

But advertising beer seems to run in the family - here's Waynes dad from the seventies:



Hey Ho!
Stay in Toon!

What In the World's Come Over You?

With my Mum's funeral and all the associated paperwork completed we decided to have a long weekend in Rye. Unfortunately pubs in Rye do have television sets and following the England Algeria debacle the rest of the evening was rescued by a particularly good rock band in The Ypres Arms.

On the following evening we were doing the rounds of the local hostelries and decided to try and lower the tone in the cocktail bar of the 15th century Mermaid Inn. Now I won’t say it is the most expensive bar I have ever been in but a cheese and homemade pickle sandwich is £7.25! But you can tell the quality of a watering hole by it’s ablutions and the Mermaid’s are first class – you can’t beat a good Armitage Shank!

While Janice disappeared into the ladies doing whatever it is that ladies do that takes half an hour to complete, who should join me at the bar for a couple of JD on the rocks but none other than Giovanni Dominico Scafone Jr., better known to you all as Jack Scott, the American country rock singer. Good ole Jack, now 74 and still making the occasional performance, was staying at the Mermaid with fellow performer Sleepy La Beef and headlining the Rockabilly Rave week-end at Pontins in Camber Sands.

Don’t remember Jack, well take a look here:

The Mystery of the Disappearing Trainers

The trip to Cyprus is but a distant memory after what has happened since we returned.

Suffice to say that Janice and I had a wonderful time, thanks to the Gilberts who showed us parts of the island that we would otherwise never had found.However the holiday did get off to a rocky start but I soon established the ground rules with the patio doors.

Old Pavlos hasn't changed in the slightest although I did find his obsession with his garden very commendable if not slightly worrying.

Our return was delayed by a day when, having been dropped off at the airport, we were informed that our flight had been cancelled and we should return in 24 hours time.

I had purchased a new pair of trainers for the holiday, at considerable expense, and which I considered to be rather fetching. I was wearing them, for only the second time, for our aborted flight home but somewhere between the following day and our arrival back home the said trainers went missing.

The Gilberts can't find them and I have definitely not got them - a mystery indeed.

Anyone with any information on a pair of white size 8 "Skechers" please contact me.

In the meantime I have had to fork out on another pair!

I have since done a bit of detective work and I think I know happened to them.

I have discovered that there is very clever international thief out there so be careful!

Lilian May Baltzer : 1908 - 2010

It is with much sadness that I report the passing of my mother, Lilian May Baltzer, on June 2nd 2010, just 17 days away from her 102nd birthday. 

May, as she was always known, was born on 19th June 1908 in Woodbridge, Suffolk, where, together with her younger sister Eva, spent her early life. The Felgate family later moved to Felaw Street in Ipswich where she went to school at the time of the First World War. Her father was injured while serving in the Coldstream Guards and subsequently died in 1925 when she was 16. May worked as a secretary for a large furnishing and polishing company and during this period met her future husband Will and in 1935 they were married and moved into their new home at 13 Trent Road, Ipswich where they lived for all their married life.

During the Second World War, while Will was serving in the Army, May moved back to her mother’s house where she saw out the war. During this period May served with the American Red Cross. 

Will returned from the war and in September 1946 their only son Christopher was born. 

Will passed away in 1994 and four years later, in 1998 when she was 90, May moved in with her son and daughter-in law Janice in Farnborough.

Her last 12 years were spent in the company of her son and daughter-in-law Janice, her grandchildren Lorna and Karen and her great grandchildren Amber, Lewis, Ryan and Ella, all of whom will miss her greatly. 

Her health gradually declined following her 100th birthday and in March this year May moved to Randell House Care Home where she died peacefully in her sleep, just 17 days away from her 102nd birthday. 

It is very difficult to comprehend the changes that May witnessed during her remarkable lifetime. Born into a world with only horse drawn transport, only newspapers and letters for communication and with none of the luxuries that we all now take for granted, May lived through two world wars and witnessed man walking on the moon not to mention countless other milestones, even Ipswich Town winning the FA Cup - what an incredible journey.

To the end she was in no pain and on no medication and simply decided it was time to move on to a better place. 

The funeral will take place at Aldershot crematorium on Monday 14th June 2010 at 1.30 pm.
Donations in May's memory to Dementia UK can be made at: 
http://www.justgiving.com/maybaltzer

My bags are packed .................................

Well it's been over a month since the last entry and much has occured during that period including Farnborough winning the league, a most enjoyable long weekend in Rye over Easter for Janice and myself and the picking of the first produce from the polytunnel.

All these events have been overshadowed by my mother being admitted to Frimley Park Hospital with a urine infection but as I write she is being discharged back to the care home.

Just in time, as we are off in the early hours to visit the Gilberts in Cyprus for 14 days.

I can quite safely say that I will definitely need a holiday when I return!

Farnborough FC were presented with their trophies following the final home game of the season. If you watch this video carefully to the left of the screen you will see in the stand a laidback, hands in pockets, fellow blogger Mike Millard (Mikes Revenge) and a "No publicity" Baltzer looking very sinister hiding behind a post.



Thats the best I can do for now so here is the lesson I promised on the phases of the moon.

Watch and learn - I'll test you on my return!



Hey Ho

Another lost weekend!

At the start of the season the newly re-laid playing surface at El Cherrio resembled that of Portman Road in it's prime.

After the final whistle on Saturday it resembled a ploughed muddy field.


Photo by Panther Studio http://www.pantherstudio.co.uk/

Boro were a little unlucky to go in 1 nil down at half time and could easily have been 2 or 3 goals to the good had it not been for the opposition keeper. Whatever hopes they had of playing themselves back into the game were dashed by a half time downpour on an already waterlogged pitch and despite having all the play were unable to save the game and, having gone 2 nil down following a poor goal kick from the home keeper, were left to rue the woodwork and a penalty ballooned over the stand.

A disappointing result following on from three back to back victories in which they had scored 13 goals and only conceded two.

Earlier in the week I came across this website with some, for once, interesting Football League statistics:

http://www.footballbynumbers.co.uk/entertainers.html

I mention this as I had received word from the Welsh Bard that he and his brother-in-law Harry had tickets for the Swansea versus Ipswich game on the Saturday.

I was immediately able to point out to him the following information:

The team in the football league (level 1 – 7) with the best goals per game is indeed FFC with 2.56.

Ipswich, however, with a goals per game ratio of 1.08 are in 180th place and Swansea, with only 0.85, just off the bottom in 214th place.

Backing this up with the fact that in the table for the worst goals per game ratio (both ends), also known as “The Where Not to Purchase a Season Ticket League“, Swansea were runaway leaders with only 1.64, and therefore advised him to take the Times, the Telegraph and the Guardian for the first half and a good book for the second.

Now I didn’t get where I am today by being right all the time but the game predictably finished up nil nil. Here's a brief report his excursion in to enemy territory from the Welsh Bard:

"But what is there to say? I didn’t get where I am today criticising a lack of basic skills (a phrase I learned where, I wonder) but there were none on display in Swansea on Saturday. Certainly not on the field of play – which, was, as it happened a very nice one – nor in the pubs of a city whose grimness I’d forgotten. I’ve been in and out of Swansea (where no Baltzer genes were spotted, incidentally) since I was a kid, when it was still a mess after the Luftwaffe had taken issue with a Glamorgan victory at St Helens. Sixty odd years later, the place still looks as if the city fathers haven’t quite decided how to rebuild it.

Out of curiosity, H and I walked as far as the Vetch, which is still intact (hereabouts, Ninian Park already has residents who wake each day to the remains of the Canton Stand!) and that was a Bad Idea. In need of sustenance, we entered a pub H thought would be ok. Wrong – and, as you know, he’s rarely wrong in such delicate matters. Negotiating a drink proved interesting “Two pints of – oh, have you got only Speckled Hen?” I asked, spotting the preponderance of lager pumps. “Bit strong,” I said, “I’ll have a Guinness, please.”

“Sorry, butt, the nozzle’s broken,” came the reply, and H and I had two pints of dreadful Hen, before retreating to an equally grotty boozer. And it’s not as if we’d asked for the Palace/City game or anything equally provocative! After which the game itself was predictably – by you, and most of the Cardiff-based ITFC fans (yes, we do exist in small numbers) – dreadful, so I’ll say no more about it, as I certainly don’t to want to relive it, thanks very much!

I went home and had more fun with my pals at the India Gate. You’ll recall the incident in which the common nature of my surname featured strongly. Bernadette made sure to mention this possible problem when she rang the order through, and I was greeted royally. In fact, in echoes of the afternoon, I was seen out the door with a chorus of “There’s only one Paul Evans!”

After the football Janice and I were out on another birthday celebration. Following on from the birthday of the landlady of the Fox two weeks earlier, this time it was the turn of her partner Mick. Just three couples, two less than on the previous celebration, set out for a Spanish evening in a tapas bar in Camberley. After an average, overpriced meal we returned to the local, slightly worse for wear, for a night cap.

As you all know, in the immortal words of Danny Baker, “There is no such thing as the one” and the time that we stumbled out of the pub has been a matter of some debate but thought to be sometime between 3 and 4 a.m. The actual time we got to bed is somewhat further confused by the clocks moving forward.

Unfortunately what didn’t move forward was the fact that I had to work in about 2 hours after I got to bed. Yes I should have got it out of the way on Saturday morning but I didn’t get where I am today by doing that which can be put off until tomorrow.

If I hadn’t realised before this weekend I am now fully aware that I am definitely too old for all this.

Back to the serious business of gardening and now that BST is with us and Spring is just about springing, I am sure you will all be ready for action in the garden over the coming Easter week-end. In the next entry I will continue with the theme of biodynamic gardening and explain how to get the best from your plants by following the phases of the moon.

In the meantime this will help you “toon up".

Busy Times

Much has happened since my last entry and I have been far to busy to do anything remotely stupid or amusing apart from a minor incident involving mushy peas.

My mother who is approaching 102 and has been living with us for the last 12 years has made the move to Randell House care home, which is about 10 minutes walk from where we live in Cove.

Although physically sound though very frail, (she’s the only one of the three of us not on any regular daily medication), her dementia had reached the stage where we could no longer continue to look after her.

However, Janice and I can now start living our own life again. We have had a long weekend at Hastings and a very hectic social calendar involving two birthday celebratory nights out, and for Janice a “mothers day” night out with the girls.

It’s been so long that we had forgotten the joys of having a row at the supermarket and how much easier it is for two people to stumble home from the pub.

Work has also started in earnest at the allotment. The polytunnel has been restored to its former glory, albeit with a brand new cover, potato bags have been planted up and carrots, radishes and beetroot sowed. The raised beds are being weeded and prepared for the coming season.

Meanwhile in the greenhouse indoor tomatoes, peppers, chillies, melons, cucumbers and aubergines have all been potted on as have two varieties of early lettuces for the polytunnel.

One of the most noticeable differences, apart from the flavour and taste, when you “grow your own” is that vegetables and fruit have seasons as opposed to supermarket all year round produce. This inevitably means that however well you organise and stagger your planting there are times when you have a glut of one or more fruit or vegetable.

It is therefore always interesting to find alternative ways or preparing your produce and I can strongly recommend “The Allotment Gardener’s Cookbook” by Ann Nicol, which I have already made reference to in an earlier entry, containing over 70 recipes for vegetables and fruit dishes, jams and chutneys.

Unfortunately the book is out of print and only used copies are available on the internet. However I have found a source of a few copies at £10.00 each a saving of £2.00 on the published price. If anyone out there is interested let me know and I will try and get you a copy.

On the soccer front after a fine win on Saturday against a plucky Merthyr Tydfil side, which included the unfortunately named Kris Leek on the left wing, Boro are now 13 points clear at the top of the Zameretto Premier with 12 matches left to be played. Promotion to the Blue Square (Conference) South is on the horizon.

Finally, as it is the time of the year to consider holiday options I thought I would bring to your attention this resort as a possible destination:




Hey Ho

Reflections on Retirement

Into March already and any time now the April edition of Kitchen Garden will be dropping on the door mat.

At least the rain has stopped although sadly the allotment is looking more like a paddy field than a vegetable plot. My autumn planted onion sets, well those that haven't already been pulled out by the pigeons, are floating on the surface.

Not only has it been very wet in this area but also we have had some very high winds.

Here is a photo of my polytunnel in which I was planning to get some extra early crops.

The more observant of you will notice that the "poly" element of the tunnel has gone AWOL. I would be grateful if anyone with any information on it's whereabouts, suspected to be somewhere in the Camberley area, could contact me ASAP as I have lots of young seedlings ready to be planted.

I have just read Colin Cotterill's latest Dr. Siri investigation, "The Curse of the Pogo Stick" in which there is a paragraph describing the effect of retirement on his good friend Comrade Civilai :

"Civilai had expanded in all directions like a man released from the grip of atmospheric pressure."

Well it's nearly four years since I bowed out and I can thoroughly recommend it.

However, I am constantly reminded of just how lucky I have been for there is not a week goes by when I don't think back to my last meeting with my late, great friend and colleague Alby Jolly when, over a pint or three, he was enthusiastically telling me of his plans to follow my lead after his next birthday.

Annoyingly there has been no response from 3 Mobile's Scottish Office, however my experiences did elicit the following excellent riposte from the Welsh bard:

Oh what tangled webs are wove
When you’re Baltzer, man of Cove!
In the complex IT maze,
Chris has had his better days,
But, desirous of a dongle,
Baltzer’s day went badly wrongle,
As, to Chris’s great frustration
He experienced something Asian...

It’s nice to know that mobile phones
Connect us all to distant zones,
But it’s a bummer when, perhaps,
We’re forced to chat with foreign chaps
Who claim to speak for British firms –
And open up a can of worms.
Their attitudes and accents are
Offensive to young Balthazar...

Commendably, our Mr B –
Who knows a bit about IT -
Maintained a modicum of calm,
Composure, and surprising charm.
And, to his credit – which, they said
He lacked – young Baltzer kept his head,
And kept his contract and his phone...
And entertained us with his moan!

Must sign off for now as I have to practice my telephone manner for the impending call to Rab C. Nesbitt

All roads lead to Calcutta

As promised, if you've got half an hour, I'm going to tell you a story.

You must also understand that I was once a Customer Support Manager and ran a pretty dam successful Help Desk.

Once upon a time in a retail outlet near you I successfully signed up for a mobile phone contract with 3 Mobile.

Last Friday I decided to procure a netbook with mobile broadband. Apparently these days, even in gardening circles, you’re no one unless you have a nice shiny “Dongle”!

As I am a customer with 3 Mobile (and they offered by far the best deal) I returned to said retail outlet, tried out the equipment to my satisfaction and sat down with a salesperson with an unpronounceable name to complete the application.

After 10 minutes of questions, answers and hectic keyboard activity, (all for information already known to 3 Mobile as I hastened to point out), we were presented with the message - “CREDIT CHECK FAILED”.

“How can that possibly be” I exclaimed, “I’m a fine upstanding member of the community and a non-defaulting existing customer.”

“I must have entered something wrong”, explained the salesperson with an unpronounceable name.

Another 10 minutes of hectic keyboard action followed only to be greeted with the same message.

“Sorry Sir, I can’t take your application any further. You can contact 3 Moblie support to appeal against the decision”, muttered the salesperson with an unpronounceable name, with total disinterest.

Now I have done some pretty stupid things in my 63 years but I didn’t get where I am today by running up bad debts and I sat in the shop speechless and in a state of shock.

Checking my watch I realised that I was in danger of rounding of a bad hair day with a parking ticket so, after politely telling the salesperson with an unpronounceable name precisely where to stick his "Dongle", realising immediately that this wasn’t actually possible, I beat a hasty retreat.

Returning home, crest fallen and "dongleless", I checked my Experian credit report online and, as expected, it was squeaky clean.

Since being the victim of identity fraud three years ago I have Identity Protection Insurance with a company called CPP which includes membership of Experian the credit checking company. I rang CPP and they confirmed that there was no reason why my application should have failed and I should seek an explanation from 3 Mobile.

Now the fun starts. I ring 3 Mobile support and after negotiating a dozen menu options and entering my mobile phone number three times I am placed in a queue.

After several minutes I am put through:

“Good afternoon, you are speaking to Sadiq , how may I be helping you today?”.

My heart sank, but determined to sort this out once and for all I explained simply and slowly my problem.

There followed a lengthy explanation by Sadiq of how 3 Mobile determine an applicants credit score. I thanked him for his word perfect response and explained that I didn’t care how they worked out my credit rating but that I required to know the reason I had failed it, preferably sooner rather than later. After rejecting more scripted responses from Sadiq, blood pressure rising by the minute, I finally hit the jackpot.

“Would you like me to email you a document that will be explaining your application?”

I gratefully accepted this offer, having first confirmed with Sadiq that it would detail the reason my application failed.

“Thank you for your time today Mr Balthasar I will forward you the document immediately”.

I replaced the receiver pleased that I had achieved my goal.

15 minutes later an email arrived. I eagerly opened the attachment only to find I had been sent a generic document explaining how 3 Mobile works out your credit score and an address, in Glasgow, to appeal against their decision.

Bloody marvellous, I thought, out of the frying pan and into the fire! Now I’ve got to deal with a Rab C. Nesbitt look-alike. Thankfully there was just an address no phone number.

As the weekend progressed the more I thought about this the more unhappy I became. Why should I do all the work, after all they were in the wrong?

First thing Monday morning I found out the phone number of 3 Mobile’s Head Office.

I rang them and asked to speak to someone who deals with Customer Care or Customer Complaints.

“Certainly Sir, I’ll put you straight through”.

Result, I am thinking, especially as the phone rings straight away with no minefield of menus or options.

“Good morning, you are speaking to Aseem, how may I be helping you today?”

I slammed the phone down and looked for a cat to kick.

Three hours later and refreshed with a couple of Moorland Originals I decided to give India one more chance.

After once again negotiating the lengthy preliminaries I am greeted with the usual response:

“Good afternoon, you are speaking to Sharmila, how may I be helping you?”

I explained at length my predicament and asked if I could speak to someone in their credit department.

She politely explained that this was not possible but she would be contacting them for an explanation and be phoning me back in 2 hours time.

I reluctantly agreed.

Now this is when poor young Sharmila made a big mistake.

“Is there anything else I can be helping you with today Mr. Balthasar?”

“Indeed there is madam. I would like you to cancel my mobile phone contract”.

“I am very sorry to here that Mr. Balthasar”, she responded, hastily searching for the relevant script. “May I be asking why you are wanting to cancel?”

NOT in my humble opinion a career move question!

“BECAUSE I AM …… “, I hear the kitchen door close, Janice wisely deciding that she no longer wishes to be party to this telephone call, “TOTALLY PISSED OFF WITH 3 MOBILE”.

“Please be holding on sir I will check your contract details. I am seeing that you are having 12 months of your contract left and that you will be liable to be paying the rental for that period”.

Having already done by homework, I smugly pointed out that I would not be parting with any of my hard earned retirement bounty and that, under section 10 paragraph C of their terms and conditions, 3Mobile were entitled to cancel a contract with immediate effect if the customer failed a credit check.

“I have failed your credit check therefore I want you to terminate my contract immediately, at no cost to myself”, I demanded triumphantly.

“I am not sure I can be doing that Mr. Balthasar, I will have to be checking with our legal department and phoning you back”.

Satisfied that I had made my point I thanked her for her time and that I would be looking forward to her return calls.

An hour later I received a call:

“Good afternoon Mr. Balthassar, this is Japendra speaking from the Credit Department of 3 Mobile. I am pleased to be reporting that we have sorted out the misunderstanding with your application and that if you return to your store your application will now be accepted”.

I tried to explain that I no longer had any intention of entering into a contract with 3 Mobile but required an explanation as to why the application failed in the first place and that nothing would be recorded against my name.

“I cannot be telling you that over the phone Mr. Balthasar but I can be sending you a document explaining our credit checking procedure and giving you an address in Glasgow to be writing to”.

At this point I just gave up. They just wear you down.

The outcome – I have written a polite letter to Rab C. Nesbitt requesting an explanation, an apology and perhaps a teensy weensy bit of compensation for the worry and sleepless nights that this whole incident has caused a retired elderly couple both already suffering from ill health and high blood pressure.

If truth be known, I've thoroughly enjoyed it!

And I will, of course, keep you informed of any response.

And yes, I still have a 3 Mobile phone and yes I have posted this entry from my recently acquired Netbook complete with 3 Mobile “dongle”.

Annoyingly they are by far the cheapest and we didn’t get where we are today by laying out more than we need to, did we?.

So remember, before phoning a Call Centre, beware - all roads lead to Calcutta or do they????

The Battle of Evesham

In 1265 the King’s men won a famous victory against the rebels of Simon de Montfort at the Vale of Evesham. A feat that was to be repeated nearly 750 years later by Steve King’s men last Saturday but this time the scene of the battle was not the tranquil banks of the river Avon but the blood stained fields of Cherrywood Road.

The victors - Steve King’s battle scarred Farnborough FC, the vanquished – Paul West’s Evesham United.

The game can be summed in the words of manager King:

“The visitor’s tactics went beyond the boundaries of fair football combat. Some of their challenges were appalling”.

None more so than the kick to the head of top goal scorer Dean McDonald in the first half by the Evesham skipper, after the whistle had been blown for a foul and which went completely unpunished by the wimp of a referee resulting in the striker leaving the field with blood pouring from a broken nose.

The statistics:

FFC 3

1 yellow card
2 players unfit to continue as a direct result of cynical fouls

Evesham United 1

8 yellow cards
2 red cards (during the game)
1 red card (after the final whistle)
Manager banished from the touchline
Visitors changing room door kicked in.

Two 5 minute 18 man brawls.

Having said all that it’s 3 more points and in the words of my fellow blogger Mike, after the game, “That was damned good value for money!”

The Battle of Evesham was just a small diversion for me, in a week that has been dominated by my own personal battle with 3 Mobile.

I will relate the full story on Sunday.

In the meantime I leave you with this. It's a funny old game.

IPARIP

I will start with the bad news.

Still reeling from the announcement that Greene King had ended their offer of IPA at £1.99 a pint, I was hit with the KO blow. Hayley, the landlady of the Fox, in her infinite wisdom has decided that the pub can no longer justify offering two real ales on hand-pump and, in future, will only be serving Moorlands Original.

Eminently drinkable though it is, MO just hasn’t got the same ring about it as IPA.

Not the end of the world you may be thinking but this is my last tenable daily connection with God’s Own County!

In a desperate attempt to justify her actions Hayley has decided to replace the Ruddles keg with Greene King IPA Smooth to be offered at £1.99 a pint.

Following my near self exploding experience with this at the Rec two weeks ago I think I will give it a wide berth.

So much for the so called re-emergence of proper beer. I feel an odd ode from the Welsh Bard coming on.

And the week-end started so well with England’s fine victory over the Taffs not to mention the fine performance of our under 20’s the previous evening in the warm up match and the Ladies in their corresponding fixture.

Instead of a lament from EvansAbove bemoaning this fine English treble, I received this report of his post match adventures:

“And so it came to pass that yesterday, just as the Twickers ref brought the curtain down on one pantomime, another one kicked off. From Harry’s end of the Village, this particular phenomenon isn’t so apparent, but when the wind comes from beyond the M4 interchange we get the full nasal treat as the Bombay, the Khazi and the India Gate combine their aromas. We keep saying that one day we’ll try the first named pair, but as the Gate is no more than eighty yards away, we use them for our sporadic takeaways. But there may be a change.

It’s not as if I’m a regular there, but I did notice that it was a new man on the restaurant’s ‘welcome’ desk. He evidently hadn’t been here long, as he started spelling my surname with an ‘H’! As ever, and it’s hardly worth buying an expensive lager while I’m waiting, I strolled home fighting my way through the weeping masses in their Brains sponsored tops. Twenty minutes later, I was back at the Gate, which was now beginning to get busy – with sad fans. “Takeaway for Evans”, I said, forgetting to aspirate my name, and number 42 duly arrived, with P. Evans clearly on the receipt...

Unpacking the bag, maybe two minutes later, I spotted Lamb Bhuna on one of the containers and realised it was the wrong selection of goodies, however appealingly they were smelling. I replaced them neatly in the bag, and made my third excursion through streets now damp with losers’ tears (you’re loving this, admit it! And it is the 30th anniversary of Ringer being sent off at Twickers...)

Back at the Gate, there followed a scene the Marx Bros would have been proud of, as the new man was given a bollocking and one of them scuttled off for the correct order. Yes, Baltzer, mine was P. Evans, but number bloody 43.

While this was going on, a bloke I’d never seen before walked in, and asked for his meal – name, P. Evans (we all drop our aitches around ere!) So, naturally I introduced myself and we shook hands. You must admit, it’s a novel way of meeting people, though I wonder if they explained that his meal had already done one lap of Whitchurch. As I left – with what turned out to be excellent nosh, unaffected by in-transit stumbles, despite the extremely wet pavements, now running with blood as well as tears – approximately ten Asians were arguing unintelligibly. Well, not wholly so, as I did understand the one word that cropped up quite frequently – “Hevans” ... "

Pleasing to know that I’m not the only person starring in takeaway comedies.

The highlight of the week was the receipt of my new fruit bushes which I mentioned briefly last week.

John Stoa, an artist and gardener, who lives in Dundee came across this fruit, which is very similar in appearance and taste to blueberries, being grown commercially while visiting Canada.
On his return to Scotland he discovered that Amelanchier alnifolia is quite widely grown in the UK as an ornamental shrub, not for it's black berries which are produced in large numbers and mainly left for the birds, but for it's attractive white spring flowers. Saskatoons, as the fruit are called, have similar nutrients to blueberries but in higher levels. They grow faster and taller than blueberries, do not require acidic soil conditions and have very few pests and diseases likely to trouble them. Saskatoons contain high levels of antitoxins which may help prevent heart disease, strokes, cancer, cataracts and other chronic illnesses, can be used as fresh fruit and also processed for jams, jellies, chutneys, pie fillings, yoghurts, syrups, juice concentrates, cider, wine and liqueurs.

Sounds like a pretty "tooned" in fruit to me.

Full details of the shrub and how to obtain them can be found on John's website:

www.johnstoa.co.uk/saskatoon.htm

Why not try some - you know it makes sense!

Back on the greenhouse front more seeds have been sown this week for early crops aubergines, tomatoes, peppers, chillis, cucumbers, okra and melon. A bit behind Kitchen Gardens schedule which will probably be telling me to pick them in next months issue. Call me old fashioned but I'll stick with Arthur's 1936 timetable.

I leave you for another week with this final memory of Suffolk's own Indian Pale Ale (RIP)

Greene King IPA, an award winning beer

Award-winning Greene King IPA is a great-tasting beer, loved by drinkers across the world.

This hoppy, refreshing beer is brewed in the historic market town of Bury St Edmunds, in the heart of Suffolk, where brewing has been an important part of the town's history even as far back as 1086 when brewing in the town was recorded in the Domesday Book.

March already?

Another week, another month, another entry.

This Friday evening passed without incident although I did have to promise not to bring back a Chinese takeaway.

Unfortunately Saturday’s match at the Rec was not a classic by any stretch of the imagination. In fact the first half was awful. However, fully gassed up from copious quantities of keg IPA consumed prior to KO we had a most enjoyable afternoon. Many thanks to our host Walkerman for his generosity.

On Sunday I received a missive from the Welsh bard describing how, on Friday evening, he had been involved in a fracas with a large group of “Taffettes" on the mean streets of Whitchurch while on his way home from his local boozer. Sounded quite scary and not something that fine upstanding mature old boys like us should be involved in.

It reminded me of a situation I once found myself in some 40 years before. Whilst driving past Portman Road, on the morning of a home game, in my newly acquired Triumph Herald Estate I encountered a group of a dozen or so away fans, Manchester City I seem to recall, who had arrived early and were kicking a football around in the road. I applied a suitable long blast of horn and put my foot down. As they leapt out of my way one of them kicked the ball at the car scoring a direct hit to the passenger door. I screeched to a halt and leapt out of the car intending to give the culprit a slapped wrist. The 12 fans were immediately joined by 50 or 60 others who came bearing down on me intent on ripping me apart. Now in those days I didn’t get where I was by turning my back on a fight so I leapt back in the car and got the hell out of it.

Moral of the story, if you are outnumbered, leg it! The problem is at our age it is not always possible to sustain a chase especially when overserved with IPA on a Friday night.

I suppose I’m lucky that the only antagonists I seem to encounter these days are wet leaves and kerbs.

On Monday, I braved a visit to my waterlogged plot and repaired the damage to the polytunnel caused by the snow. Repairs to the fruit cage are still at the planning stage. It doesn’t pay to rush into big projects.

I returned home to find that the March edition of Kitchen Garden had been delivered. Now I didn’t get where I am today by being told what to do but a list of tasks as a reminder is very useful to a gardener as timing is so critical in getting the best from your crops.

What I don’t want to be reading on February 1st is what to do during March just because the publishers want to get their bloody magazine on the shelf before their competitors. I have only just started planning for February let alone March and before I have even started March’s tasks I will have received the April edition and probably can’t find the previous one anyway. What nonsense! I think I'll rely on what Arthur was doing 1936.

The magazine did contain a very interesting article about a chap in Dundee who is trying to single-handedly introduce a new fruit crop to the UK. Needless to say I have purchased three plants and await their arrival with anticipation. You know you are getting old when you get excited about a shrub! My mate Savo would be proud of me. Full details about this plant and how to obtain them next week.

A few more seeds have been sown in the greenhouse (on the correct Moon days of course) and hopefully we will be rewarded with lots of early produce from the polytunnel.

The highlight of my week was the delivery of the new Pat Metheny CD entitled “Orchestrion” where he controls and plays all the specially built instruments from his guitar via solenoids. He continues to extend the boundaries of electric jazz to new limits.

See what you think in this 40 second preview.



Interested?

Here’s a 7 minute preview and narrative by the man himself.



He has just embarked on a 5 month tour of Europe, America, Canada and the Far East playing a total of 85 venues.

Bit of a logistical nightmare with that much equipment and instruments. No band members to pay though!

Hey ho.

Fowl Owl on the Prowl

My adventures of last week prompted a significant email response from you.

Inexplicably none of them offered me sympathy. Instead, all of them expressed various degrees of mirth at my misfortunes. What a cynical old world we live in!

However my Welsh chum came up trumps as usual with another poetic masterpiece:

How does Baltzer’s garden grow?
The answer - many want to know,
But evidence is bound to show
Selenic theory’s phooey.

Though Chris’s crops may well amaze,
It’s not because of lunar rays,
But far too many IPAs
And sprinklings of chop suey!

The Ford on Friday afternoon
May keep the Baltzer mind in tune,
But slightly Foxed, and like a loon,
His take-away’s are failures.

Though Chris’s lack of shape and tact
May mean his crackers may be cracked,
He finds the sweet and sour will act
As compost on his dahlias!

Interestingly, since acquiring bread making technology Paul now barters loaves for pints at his local Fox and I suspect has a similar deal in place with the local vicar in exchange for the communional wine, as he markets his products under the banner "Bread of Evans".

For the non-classical students amongst you "Selenic Theory" is a reference to Selene (from the Latin Luna) the Greek goddess of the moon. Apologies to all those academics out there who were already conversant with this fact but having left full-time education at sixteen to pursue a career that would make me rich and famous, (which probably explains why I finished up as a gardener), I had to phone a friend, the Welsh bard himself, for an explanation.

I hate a smart ass!

Incidentally one email I received wanted to know if FFC was related to KFC. He's off my circulation list.

Farnborough Fried Chicken hasn't got the same kind of appeal somehow.

Talking about gardening at last there has been some activity. Spring onion, prize leek, early carrot and sweet pea seed have all been sowed and are tucked up nice and warm in the heated propagator. Early potatoes are chitting up nicely. I will, of course, report on their progress.

I am publishing this weeks episode early in order to alert you to the fact that Saturday (30th) is a full moon day and that you should attempt even less than you did at the half moon.

Above all don't venture out on the streets after dark.

Me, I'm off on a corporate jolly to Aldershot v Grimbsy, which will involve much eating and drinking and, unfortunately, second hand Roy "Chubby" Brown jokes that weren't very funny in the first place.

However, by the evening I will will tucked up in the warm watching one of my top 10 films, "In the Heat of the Night" I think.

I suggest you do the same and might I recommend this everyday story of country folk.



If that doesn't appeal then why not follow my lead with this classic from 1967

Must get a "45" of this song for my juke box.

Hey Ho!

That was the week that wasn't

Last week was an eminently forgettable week.

It started badly when my greenhouse paraffin heater caught fire while I was refilling it and, with the exception of a brief period of entertainment on Tuesday evening, went steadily downhill to the weekend.

On Friday I was severely over-served. First an early door with Walkerman and Mullard in the Old Ford was followed by a lengthy session in the Fox.

Returning home clutching a large bag of Chinese goodies, in high spirits (predominantly IPA) and full of anticipation of the big game the following day, I slipped backwards on a patch of wet leaves right outside Cotswold Towers. In a desperate attempt to stop my fall I lurched forward tripping on the kerb and landing face down like a sack of potatoes right on top of my Chinese takeaway. After a couple of minutes, first checking that no one had witnessed my fall, I clambered up, salvaged what was left of our Friday night banquet and stumbled in through the door.

Did I receive any sympathy from Janice?

Despite recounting in great detail how I had manfully fought off two drug crazed muggers intent on stealing our Chinky, all I got in the way of thanks was " the trouble with you is you drink too much"!

Resisting the temptation to remind my darling wife that I had made her fully aware of that fact 43 years earlier before she married me, I attended to my wounds and we ate our Friday night treat in silence, with rather a lot of very small prawn crackers and without any chicken and sweet corn soup or sweet and sour sauce which had combined to create a deadly looking cocktail in the bottom of the carrier bag.

Undaunted by these events the following morning, complete with cuts to the knee and bruised ribs, I arrived at Farnborough railway station with fellow ITFC fan journalist Jon at the appointed hour to catch the fast, no change train to Southampton Central, as recommended by a member of the Farnborough British Rail staff the previous day. What he had omitted to tell us was that due to engineering works between Woking and Basingstoke over the whole of the weekend it was not possible to board it or any other bloody train at Farnborough until Monday morning.

Now I didn't get where I am today by being wise after the event but at this juncture I now realise we should have cut our losses and retired gracefully to the Fox and watched the days FA Cup events unfold in the comfort of the bar with one or two pints.

However, blinded by FA Cup fever, we boarded a clapped out single decker bus along with 70 other unfortunates, predominantly kids under 16, and proceeded to crawl to Basingstoke station faithfully following the train route calling at Fleet, Winchfield and Hook stations, finally arriving over an hour later.

The day deteriorated horribly from this point on and I won't bore you with the details but suffice to say my blue and white scarf and bobble hat that witnessed Mick Mills lifting the FA Cup at Wembley some 33 years earlier have once again been consigned to the back of the wardrobe for another year.

The one highlight of the week was witnessing FFC destroy Banbury United's undefeated home record by a convincing 3 goals to nil. If ever there was case of one team being "In Toon" and the other "Out of Toon" this was it, particularly the young Banbury goal keeper - see picture from the match below.

At one point I felt so sorry for him I was on the point of offering him my pocket edition of "In Toon with the Moon" but soon came to my senses and rejoined in with the "Dodgy Dodgy Keeper" chant. Sentiment has no place at a soccer match!

To finish have a look at this video of the ex Boro legend Rocky Baptiste playing for Harrow Borough to see how being "Out of Toon" and "In Toon" can apply to the same player:




What's he done! Must have been a full moon!

Henry William Smith

Don't let anyone tell you that researching your family history will be easy. 

I didn't get where I am today by being confused however I'm getting close to it. 

As I may have already said there were two limbs of my Baltzer family in Whitechapel in the mid 1800’s, my great grandfather Heinrich Wilheim (H1) and his cousin Heinrich (H2). 

The father of Heinrich (H2) was Heinrich (H3). Towards the end of the 1860’s my great grandparents moved to Stamford in Lincolnshire and great grandfather Heinrich Wilheim (H1) became Henry William, presumably in an attempt to seamlessly slip into English rural society (although I suspect the surname would have been a bit of a giveaway!) In 1868 their first child was born and he was named, yes you guessed it, Henry William (H4). 

Meanwhile, back in Whitechapel, Heinrich (H3) had a son and he too named him Henry (H5). 

In 1871 my great grandparents and young Henry (H4) moved to Ipswich and at the turn of the century great uncle Henry (H4) had a son, Henry William (H6) 

Things went quiet on the Henry front for a few years but predictably, in 1937, Henry William (H6) had a son whom he, of course, named Henry William (H7). 

So, if my great grandfather had gone the whole hog when he anglicised his name and my father had followed the family naming convention for his first born, I could be going through life as one Henry William Smith haunted by this dreadful attempt at a pop song. 

A Notable Day

Those of you that are “In Toon” will be aware that today is a New Moon day.

Now I‘m sure that, like me, you didn’t get where you are today by doing more than necessary on any day of the week, however today you can sit back and relax and do absolutely nothing, (or in my case the same as I did yesterday, the day before, the day before that blah blah.)

A New Moon day is not a good day for doing anything and don’t even think about having a hair cut because you will wake up tomorrow with longer hair than before or completely bald.

Don’t believe me, well go on then, try it!

Popped my head in the greenhouse earlier this morning and was pleased, if not surprised to see that Pink Floyd has done the business with my exhibition onions which are now looking quite nicely thank you.

Can’t beat a bit of Brain Damage!

Talking of which I may well have contributed to a bit of damage to what's left of mine this week as the IPA delivered to the Fox last Friday ran out yesterday lunch time. OK it was only a 9 gallon barrel but, as the landlady was quick to point out when I had a moan last night, apparently I was responsible for disposing of at leat half of it.

But whose counting?!

Also today, at 7.06 GMT to be precise, there was an eclipse of the Sun that lasted for 11 mins and 7.7 secs , the longest eclipse of this millennium!

But don’t worry about having just missed it as it was only visible in Zaire, Kenya, the South of India, Bangladesh and China.

It was an annular eclipse which occurs when the Sun and Moon are exactly in line, but the apparent size of the Moon is smaller than that of the Sun. Hence the Sun appears as a very bright ring, or annulus, surrounding the outline of the Moon, thus giving it the popular, eye watering name of "The Ring of Fire".
(This video is NOT one for the ladies)



Coincidentally Janice and I went for a ruby last night so on that note I must hastily sign off.

Beam me up, Scottie

I hate January.

What can you do in this weather? And when it thaws everywhere will be flooded.

In desperation I took "Your Garden Week by Week" off the shelf to check what Arthur was doing in January 1936:

Chapter 1 January

General

Dig all available ground

God knows where he was living. This book cost 12s 6d in 1952, what a snip! Have returned it to the bookshelf.

No sign of my exhibition onions. Gave them an encouraging chat and left them listening to "Dark Side of the Moon". That should do the trick.

Following on from the trauma of finding Welsh Walter the genealogy trail took an even more alarming turn when I came across this entry in the 1901 Census:

Baltzer, Adolph, 53, preacher

GET ME OUTA HERE!

The Welsh Connection

Several years ago whilst sorting through my fathers papers I found my great grandparents original wedding certificate from 1866. They lived in Plummers Row Whitechapel next to the Whitechapel Bell Foundry. This prompted me to start researching my family history and as I was still at work I had plenty of time on my hands. For one reason and another I didn't progress very far but have now picked up the trail again. The information available on-line is now much better. There were 2 Baltzer families in the UK both living in Whitechapel (together with Jack the Ripper!) during the late 19th century, which made my job quite easy. The church in Alie Street where my great grandparents where married is still there and although services are no longer held on account of the shortage of German Lutherans in the area, it still opens it's doors to the public a few times a year.

St. George's German Lutheran Church

However yesterday the trail took an alarming turn.

I stumbled across one Walter Baltzer sowing his seed in the Swansea area during the early 1900's. I immediately contacted my old chum Evans in Cardiff to ask him to try and pick up the Welsh Baltzer trail. Some of you may remember Paul Evans when he was the manager at the Hawley Sports Centre before somehow managing to get a job as a rep for Greene King covering North London sports clubs. I think Greene King were more Greene than King at the time. After single-handedly stemming the march of GK further south he finally admitted defeat and retired back to his native South Wales. Like most Welshman he has a way with words, fortunately spoken and written rather than sung, and is well renowned in the Whitchurch area of Cardiff for his poetry. On reading one of my early entries he sent through the following adaption of the well known G&S ditty:

The flowers that bloom in the Spring, tra-la
Have nothing to do with the moon.
He’s really a clever old thing, tra-la,
And at the allotment he’s king, tra-la,
And not such a gardening loon!
And not such a gardening loon!

And that’s what we mean when we say or we sing,
Hoorah for the flowers that bloom in the Spring!

Tra-la-la-la-laa, Tra-la-la-la-laa, etc.

The veggies that grow on his plot, tra-la
Win Chris every kind of award.
The moon is a load of old rot, tra-la,
He’s not such a silly old clot, tra-la,
No wonder the old bugger’s scored.
No wonder the old bugger’s scored.

And that’s what we praise as we gleefully sing,
Hoorah for the flowers and veg in the Spring!

Tra-la-la-la-laa, Tra-la-la-la-laa, etc.

All together now!

Bad Moon

I don't believe it!

Today I received the following email from Harrod Horticulture:

Dear Customer

With snowfall covering much of Britain we wanted to give you a reminder, as per your fruit cage instructions, to remove the roof netting from your fruit cage roof as, with the exception of our Decorative Fruit Cages (with a peak roof), they are not designed to carry excessive snow. If snow settles on a flat roofed cage there is a risk that the weight may collapse the framework, so by taking action you will save any damage to your cage. Alternatively if you wish to protect your crops with roof netting throughout the winter period but still get protection from snow damage, then we recommend that you replace it with 8cm/3” mesh anti-pigeon netting (GDN-073 on page 33 of our 2010 catalogue or search this code on the website). For assistance with calculating your requirements, please call our Customer Services Department on 0845 218 5301.

Let’s hope the weather clears up soon so that we can all begin gardening this year!

Kind Regards

Sabrina Lockwood

Two days too bloody late! What is wrong with these people?

Perhaps what it should have said is:

Dear Customer

With snowfall covering much of Britain we wanted to give you a reminder to skip along to your jolly old allotment and assess the damage to your spindly old fruit cage caused by the excessive snowfall. But best you hurry, for although we have ample stocks of replacement aluminium poles, fixings and netting (postage and packing extra), we are anticipating a big demand for these items because we deliberately didn't warn you in time!

blah, blah, blah

Perhaps it did until some young smart ass-wipe yuppee from the Sales and Marketing department got his sweaty paws on it!

As if that wasn't enough the bloody power cuts keep tripping out my greenhouse heating and propagating system causing me to tramp out through the snow at all hours to reset it.

What is the country coming to? It's enough to turn a man to drink!

Well if would be if the dray, now 2 days overdue, delivers some beer to the Fox.

The IPA (on offer @ £1.99 a pint) ran out 3 days ago forcing me to drink the full price Moorlands Original.

Greene King has gone right down the pan since in ventured out of Suffolk.

At least we saved the Test Match. Credit must go to the selectors for sending in a vegetable at number 11.

Why, only a week into the New Year, do I have this horrible feeling that 2010 will be the Year of Doom and Gloom?

Answers on a post-card please.

I feel a toon coming on!

Turned out nice again.

No words needed!


Remember last year?

2009

As you are well aware I didn't get where I am today by learning from my mistakes!



2010