Gardening is not the most exciting activity, in fact most of the time it is repetitive, boring and plain hard work, but the sense of achievement and fulfilment that you feel when you stand back and admire what you have achieved, which sometimes can take one or two years to materialise, or when you taste your fresh fruit and vegetables, is only understood by those of us that have been there and done it.
The thing about gardening is that you have to be “in the mood” and when I got up on Wednesday of this "Chrimbo Limbo" week, faced with the prospect of another day of reruns of Minder and The Sweeney forcing me to an even earlier start time for my early doors sojourn to the Fox, I was definitely “in the mood”.
The trouble at this time of the year, of course, is what to do and so having dug out the December issue of Kitchen Garden and taken my copy of Arthur Hellyer’s Gardening Bible off the shelf, I retired to the reading room for inspiration.
The extent of what is possible each month of the year is reflected in the number of pages offered up by Arthur in each of the appropriate chapters. For example the busiest gardening period is in the Spring, March (31 pages), April (34 pages) and May 33 pages). For December, Arthur can only come up with eight, of which one and a half are on digging, trenching and sterilising your soil which hardly inspired me to rush up the allotment armed with spade, watering can and Armillatox.
However, as I read on I was reminded that it was not too late to sow onion seed and sweet peas and that my fruit trees and grapevine should be pruned back earlier rather than later.
Armed with seed packets I ventured out to my greenhouse for the first time since the snows.
First let me describe my greenhouse(s). It is not a traditional clean cut free standing aluminium and glass structure.
Several years ago I built a 5 x 4 timber and plastic lean to structure to the front of my garden shed. About six years ago this was extended with an 8 x 3 DIY lean to along the side, and last year by a proprietary lean to structure on the front of the original. I like to think that it has a bit of character, which, in estate agent speak, equates to the fact that the corrugated plastic roof, leaks. Not much under normal weather conditions but when faced with torrential rain or an extended period of snow, it struggles to cope.
So when I slid open the door I was greeted by three very wet rooms. In order to dry them out sufficiently to work in I would have to carry out the annual ritual of the switching on of the greenhouse illuminations, not quite in the same league as Blackpool or Great Yarmouth, but nevertheless always, for me, an exciting time.
Having succeeded in turning on the power I checked the most important item of equipment in any greenhouse, the radio - OK, the two lights - OK, the two greenhouse heaters - both OK, and finally, having dried off the thermostat sufficiently enough for it to operate, the centre piece of the display, the 4 x 2 heated propagator.
Predictably I was, as I am every year, greeted by a loud bang and tripped fuse.
Unperturbed I set about repairing the damage and eventually had things working and the greenhouse drying out and in a condition ready for my seed sowing.
Now, as most of you are aware by now, I didn’t get where I am today by doing anything that can be put off until tomorrow, so having convinced myself that I had done enough for the day I retreated to that last bastion of conversation, the public bar of the Fox to engage in some intellectual and thought provoking debate (and a pint or three!).
And so it came to pass that on the 19th evening of December 2010 the Portman Road production team presented the final saga in their end of year trilogy.
Following on from the previous two weeks dramatic offerings, better described as "Comedies of Error", this week they treated the television viewing public to their "PiècedeRésistance" - the Suffolk version of the traditional Christmas pantomime, "Snow White (on ice)", starring not, as you might have been forgiven for anticipating, Roy Keane, not even Sven-GöranEriksson but, taking centre stage on the deep and crisp and even hallowed turf that is Portman Road, the young pretender, referee Stuart Attwell.
For the more unfortunate of you who missed this comical but emotional performance check out this video précis of the game:
I will say no more other than offer up the following two odes, the first, of course from the Welsh Bard:
3 – 0
Hallelujah, oh what joy! Thank the Lord that we’ve got Roy. Now we know why he’s still there... In the snow, his icy glare Made the match officials see It would be a travesty If our three-nil lead would go, With the lines, both lost to snow.
The whistle blew, and Keano stared, And all could see the Ref was scared. He didn’t have to say a word, Abandonment was now absurd. So, thanks to Keano’s icy blast, Ipswich Town has won at last. At management he’s not a wizard, But Roy’s the master of the blizzard!
And the second, a rare outing into the world of rhyme, from the keyboard of the Werewolf of Hampshire himself:
LET IT SNOW!
I hate the snow, it does in my head. Nowhere to go except back to bed. It’s time for the football. Could this be the end? Or will Leicester fall and Ipswich ascend.
The pundits are plotting and setting the scene, Of the manager walking. The end of Roy Keane? Roy looks apprehensive but Sven’s looking cool. The weather is festive. A genuine Yule!
So we’re off in a snow storm - God we’ve taken the lead. Have we come into form or will we concede? They all look so fit. Fine men in their prime. I just cant believe it, three nil at half time!
Leicester aren’t tickled. The snow’s getting worse. Sven’s looking pickled. He needs a nurse. Keanes’ gum chewing’s speeded. The weather looks bad. The snow’s not receded, well perhaps just a tad.
What’s the ref doing? He’s taking them off! I bet he’ll be pooing when faced with Keanes’ wrath. He’s come to his senses, he’s bringing them out. Not good for defences, it could be a rout.
The game has completed. The referee’s blown. The pundits are cheated and Roy’s safe at home. Thank goodness it’s over and Sven’s looking glum! He will not savour three up the bum!
Then it’s no great surprise, if it snows every day. That Ipswich will rise and Keane’s here to stay. And perhaps if they move Portman Road to the Pole, We’ll be in the groove and achieving our goal.
Yes, Cup and league glory within the two years. What a wonderful story. It fills me with tears. But where is my team. What’s all this prancing? I’ve woke from my dream. It’s Strictly Come Dancing!
I mentioned a couple of episodes ago that the only gardening activity that is possible at this time of the year is to read about it.
Well , while seated in the small room doing just that (reading I mean) from the January edition of The Kitchen Garden I suddenly thought I could also write about gardening. Not like in the blog but slightly more seriously.
Funny how all good ideas are formulated on the throne!
There’s a great paragraph in “The Unbearable Lightness of Being in Aberystwyth” by Malcolm Pryce, (I can’t recommend these novels enough for their sheer escapism), and I apologise to the ladies for this, but when DaiBrainbocs is admitted to Shrewsbury prison and is promised protection from his fellow inmates by Frankie Mephisto in return for finding a cure for the dying Myfanwy and is offered whatever books or scientific equipment he requires:
“Brainbocs accepted the proposal. He said the offer of scientific equipment would not be necessary. It was his opinion that in the matter of probing the ineffable mysteries of life, disease and death there existed no finer scientific measuring scope than a gentleman at stool. And so he ordered a new chamber pot – size seven – and went to his tower”.
So I have decided to write about gardening. Exactly how I do this or what I am going to write about is, at present, undecided, although one idea is to write about what to do in the garden in four months time not only upstaging the Kitchen Garden but meaning I would have something to do in the winter months and leave me free to garden during the busy summer months.
However the jury is still out until the New Year. Perhaps Father Christmas will bring me a new chamber pot filled with inspiration!
Last week, when I attempted to file some papers in my overflowing pending filing tray, I realised that the time had come to sort out the wheat from the chaff and file away properly the important stuff. Lets face it there were papers in there dating back to 2007 and I just couldn't put it off any longer. However, when I tried to file the first item in it's rightful slot in my 3 drawer filing cabinet I suddenly remembered why I had been putting this tedious task off for thelast 2 years. Every slot in every drawer was full to capacity and there was no room for even a single page of paper.
As I looked out of my window and watched the snow falling I knew it was now or never. Lets face it - What else did I have to do on a day like this?
So I started to sort out the contents of each folder into piles of "To Keep" and "To Scrap", "To Scrap", since my Identity Fraud experiences, now reading "To Shred".
I started, appropriately enough with the folder marked "Card and Identity Protection". In no time I had two neat piles of documents and just as I went to switch on the shredder I received a text message on my mobile from the Apprentice Allotmenteer. As it was of the utmost importance, (was I available for a beer at 4.11 pm), I began to reply immediately but was interrupted by the house phone. Having dealt with the call, giving BhagwhatGanduly (or whatever his bloody name was) and his offer of free fitting of a solar panel pretty short shrift, I returned to complete my text. As I pushed the send button the house phone went again. Thinking, "where is my secretary when I need her?", I answered the phone - this time my youngest daughter Karen with something about hairdressing appointments (not for me I hasten to add!). While shouting upstairs to my wife, (still tucked up in the warm watching the rerun of the pantomime that is Coronation Street), to pick up the phone I received another text, confirming the afternoons' transport arrangements to the pub.
I replied to the text and promptly turned off my mobile and unplugged the house phone and, feeling somewhat harassed after 10 minutes hectic telephonic activity, and having to stop to think what it was I was supposed to be doing, returned to the order of the day.
Five minutes later, as the final page of the unwanted CPP documents disappeared down the plug hole on the shredder, I experienced that cold sinking feeling that you get when you have done something stupid. Yes -I had shredded the wrong pile!
Having repeated the magic word "BOLLOCKS" at the top of my voice for at least 60 seconds I continued with my tedious task, uninterrupted, for the rest of the day.
Three days and six dustbin bags full of "shreddies" later, the task was complete. At least the grand kids' guinea pigs will be snug and cosy over the Christmas period.
Following my last entry which I also submitted to a couple of football forums this site has received over 500 hits. Methinks I touched on something close to a lot of peoples hearts and have received a lot of mostly positive feedback.
Of course the most entertaining was from the Welsh Bard:
Baltzer knows Sweet FA.
It’s very rare – I can’t say why – that Chris and I see eye to eye,
But, when we do it’s something that will matter. I give him stick about the moon, and mock his silly Saskatoon, But when it comes to arseholes such as Blatter, That Sepptic tanker, full of crap, is just the sort of dodgy chap To galvanize the minds of Chris and Paul! But, let us take this step by step – before we set our sights on Sepp, Let’s fix domestic soccer, ball by ball.
The game’s in such a dreadful mess, it’s hard to know, I must confess, Just where to start, but I agree with Chris. Let’s cut the wages, cut the squads – all full of lazy, greedy sods; And agents should be banned, and more than this, Let’s scrap the play-offs, and let’s see that youth’s the fundamental key To growing tidy international teams. Then, at the top, let’s change the rules to ditch those bloated blazered fools... I could go on, but Baltzer’s written reams.
Now, last of all, it’s fair to say that FIFA’s worse than sweet FA, So Blatter and his buddies should be scrapped. Put Chris in charge - they’ll think his name is just the same... That’s fixed the game, So, let the fun begin, the future’s mapped!
The final word must go to fellow Boro fan, Bob Perry, who while agreeing with me plus adding some very valid suggestions of his own, summed the problem up perfectly:
"It won't happen of course, as the Premier League rules the F.A. , and not the other way round, and the F.A are afraid of Herr Blatter and that lovely MnsrPlatini!!
The only way to stuff one up them of course is to go and win the bloody tournament in Russia by hammering France and Germany on the way but, ..........GOD, LOOK AT THAT SQUADRON OF PINK PIGS FLYING BY!!"
If you are not into football kindly leave the stage.
If you are and feel strongly about the state of English football and the lack of respect we are shown by world football authorities, read on.
Following the humiliation of our World Cup bid in Geneva, the two recent woeful performances of Ipswich Town in front of millions of TV viewers and this week the news that the Queen’s local team, Windsor and Eton, are due to submit an application to the Revenue & Customs to allow it to enter into a Company Voluntary Arrangement, (as a fellow Boro fan put it, one might have thought that as Her Majesty owns the Revenue and Customs she might have been able to pull a few strings), I have formulated a “10 Point Master Plan” to restore English football to it’s former glory.
You will be pleased to hear that it does not involve the Moon although perhaps the first thing would be to launch Sepp and “chum” Michel into outer space.
I have, however, tried to be more realistic in my recommendations and offer you:
The Werewolf’s Master Plan to put the “England” back into English Football
1. Banish the FA “Oldie Brigade”
Sack the entire FA and replace with younger models who must have at least 15 years playing experience, not gone to public school, still own a pair of boots and support their local non-league club in person every week, home and away.
2. Banish “Johnny Foreigner” from our game.
English football clubs can only register/play and can only be managed/coached by British citizens. This includes our national side for which Harry Rednapp is to be appointed manager immediately. Lets return to the days where tomorrow’s first team is made up of players who have come through the clubs youth policy.
3. A fair days pay for a fair days work
All players to be paid a fixed weekly wage plus a fixed appearance bonus based on the league that they play in and their seniority within the club together with a fixed graduated performance bonus based on their clubs league position (1st, 2nd, 3rd or 4th) on the Sunday preceding pay day to take effect after the first 6 games of the season.
If a player is injured he will receive basic pay less Statutory Sick Pay. Unless injured, if a player is doesn’t turn up for training (WORK) every working day of the week he won’t get paid.
In other words return to how it was prior to Jimmy Hill’s Player Power Revolt leading to the scrapping of the maximum wage of £20 a week in 1961 when players were paid just like any other PAYE employee.
4. The Manager is the “BOSS”
The Chairman aside, the Manager to be the highest paid member of staff followed by his assistant and coaching staff in descending order of seniority.
The roles of Director of Football and all the other fancy European titles will be abolished and the Manager will pick the team and have the final say on all team discipline, disputes, new signings and transfers in and out because he is the BOSS.
By default, the BOSS will have the most exclusive car in the car park and the youth side will get to the ground on public transport or by bicycle.
5. Free transfers rule OK
Abolish transfer fees and players percentages but pay removal expenses based on distance moved thus eliminating money grabbing player agents.
If players are under 18 let their parents do the talking otherwise the players are on their own. They will be on a fixed scale wage so there will be little or no room for negotiation. Players under contract cannot leave unless their manager is in agreement. If a player refuses to train/play he simply does not get paid just like any other employee.
6. Quality not quantity
Stop the big four clubs pinching all the best players by limiting the size of the total playing staff to a reasonable maximum. Further, limit the first team squad to a maximum of 22 named players from which the manager, not the FA, will decide which is his strongest team on the day.
7. Fair shares for all
Do away entirely with prize money, (the trophies, medals and the kudos alone should be incentive enough), and return the Premiership to a level playing field and save grass roots football by distributing the annual 3 billion or so pounds of TV rights revenue equally to the 11,000 football league sides across the 24 tiers of English football.
8. A League is a League is a League
Do away with promotion play-offs. There are no play-offs for relegation so why have them for promotion.
Hypothetically, a team that finishes 3rd, injuries and suspensions not withstanding, has to play two more games to earn the right to lose on penalties in the final to the team who came 6th.
Yes I’m an Ipswich Town fan, who have one of the worst play-off records in the league (one success out of seven attempts), and heavily biased against play-offs, but in 1999 Ipswich, who finished third, lost in the semi-final to Bolton who finished sixth ten points behind them, in extra time on away goals. Bolton then went on to lose in the final to Watford who gained promotion despite finishing 9 points behind Ipswich.
It makes a mockery of the whole philosophy of a league. If you can’t make it into the promotion places after 46 games having played everybody else twice, you just don’t deserve to go up at all.
9. The Fan is King (and I don’t mean Steve)
Having saved at least 75% of a clubs expenditure by introducing a realistic and economic wage structure, recognise that the fan is the most important component of a football club by fixing admission and season ticket prices to an affordable level based on the level of the league.
10. Bollocks to FIFA and UEFA
Replace our ineffective FIFA representative with someone who will not take any crap from nor lick the boots of Messrs Blatter and Platini, preferably Roy Keane, (which would also solve the Ipswich problem). Failing that, just admit defeat and do what Harry Rednapp suggested and appoint Jordan.
Never ever bother to waste any more time or money bidding for the World Cup to be staged in this country. If FIFA want to hold the over-hyped competition in this country then let them come to us with an invitation and we might accept based on our terms - another £15 million pounds for distribution to the clubs.
Only enter three English teams into European Competitions – the league Champions, the FA Cup winners and the Carling Cup winners. So many games devalue the competitions and we have enough games to be played in our season without all the European distractions for clubs that will struggle to qualify let alone get to the final so we will just send them our best.
Yes it’s radical and some of it is tongue in cheek and I know there’s no chance of it ever happening but ………………………………
Only two days into December and with the country in the grip of ice and snow, airports closed and motorways littered with abandoned cars, one could be forgiven for thinking that it's January 2011 already. Especially in my case as I thumb through the pages of the January edition of Kitchen Garden which arrived through my door on November 25th!
Not that it will be possible to do anything remotely concerning gardening for the next three months except read about it. I have, however, made one trip to the allotment in the last week to remove the roof netting from my fruit cage, thus avoiding any repeats of the previous consecutive years collapses. I also took the opportunity to chisel out of the ground some leeks and parsnips.
Predictably, the following day I received an email from Ms. Lockwood of Harrod Horticulture advising customers to remove roof netting to avoid damage to their cages caused by heavy accumulations of snow and reminding them that damage caused in this way is not covered by the 10 year warranty. I'd like to think that my curt reply to her previous email, sent after the snowfall last year, had some bearing on the timing of this years warning.
I am now facing the prospect of three months with nothing to do but hopefully I will be able to create a few more websites for local small businesses.
I would be grateful if you could spread the word and point any interested parties in my direction.
Since my last soccer update it's been thumbs up for Boro and a big thumbs down for the Super Blues.
Ipswich have had a disastrous run of four successive league defeats culminating in a woeful performance against the arch enemies in front of the live TV cameras and in the last 3 weeks have plummeted from 6th and in the play off spots down to 17th, only 4 points off the relegation zone.
You wouldn't start to understand how much I dislike Delia Bloody-Smith!
Amazingly, last night with 10 players out , either cup tied, injured or suspended, we bounced back in front of a paltry 11,000 supporters with a Carling Cup quarter final win against Premiership WBA.
Bring on the "Arse" in the semi finals - piece of metaphorical "wee wee".
Farnborough on the other hand are on an upward roll after two good league wins followed by a draw at home last Saturday when, having totally outplayed the opposition, they conceded a 91st minute equaliser from a very questionable free kick on the edge of the box. Still, that point now puts them in joint 3rd place and looking a good bet for a play off spot.
In the previous home game, a 2-0 victory against Chelmsford City, the apprentice allotmenteer and I were privileged to witness one of the goals of the season and probably the best goal ever scored at El Cherio.
I'll talk you through it:
The ball was cleared by their goalkeeper from the edge of the box and the ball landed at the feet of Daryl McMahon out on the left wing. He took two goes at teeing the ball up with his right foot then slammed it with his left a good 35 yards over the head of the hastily retreating goalkeeper and into the top right hand corner of the net.
Although there was no official recording of the game fortunately someone in the crowd had the foresight to record the moment albeit not in the best quality.
Thank goodness for mobile phones.
Watch it here on facebook - at the time of writing it's the 7th entry, entitled Daryl McMahon's wonder goal. You might have to replay it a few times to capture the moment.
While you are there also look at the one that got away last Saturday, McMahon again.
Apologies for the language but you have to admit no one can swear like a Scotsman.
My last few entries re the Saskatoon have provoked much response.
As usual "The Welsh Bard" came up trumps:
Baltzer, in Toon with the Moon, Is obsessed with this strange Saskatoon... Oh how we laughed! But Chris isn’t daft – He’s moonbound, and off pretty soon!
As the state of the nation gets worse, And Keano keeps proving a curse, The answer is this – let’s all follow Chris... I will, when I finish this verse!
As I look out of my window, I see it's snowing again - glad I'm off to the moon!
Apprentice allotmenteer Micky announced the other day that he had cracked the secret to maintaining a successful allotment.
In an idle moment he had happened upon The Real Seed Catalogue at http://www.realseeds.co.uk/beginners.html where they have listed their top tips for beginners, which I have summarized below:
~ Tips for Beginners ~
If you are just starting out growing vegetables, here are a few bits of advice we think might help: Tip 1: Don't buy too much seed.
Tip 2: Get a really clear gardening book.
Tip 3: Don't use cheap compost. Really, just don't.
Tip 4: Weeds are easy to kill when small.
Tip 4: Cold spells will prevent seeds germinating.
Tip 4: Plants run off direct sunlight.
Tip 5: Learn to save your own seed.
Tip 6: Befriend the oldest gardener you can find.
You will learn the most from the oldest gardeners. Want to know when to sow cabbages? Find the oldest person you can who has truly great cabbages, and do exactly whatever they say. They will have seen it all, and they will know what you can and can't get away with in your particular local climate and soil.
Tip 6 made his eyes light up.
Now, as I am the oldest gardener he knows, and in truth probably the oldest person he knows, he now considers that he cannot go wrong.
I was, of course, quick to point out to him that any list of tips for the beginner that excludes the philosophy of being “In Toon with the Moon” isn’t worth a club rooted cabbage and if he has any ambitions of achieving any kind of success he better start “Tooning In” pretty damned quick!
Speaking of being “In Toon” I mentioned in an earlier blog that I had managed, in between showers, to plant onion sets, garlic, shallots and broad bean seed.
I must confess that suitable weather conditions were upper most in my mind not the phase of the moon on the days that I planted them.
Following on from my rant to Micky about him “Tooning In” I thought I had better double check with the Moon Bible on the suitability of the days in question.
I am pleased to report that the days I selected were the ideal days proving that I am now so finely “Tooned In” that I no longer need to refer to the Moon Bible.
I rest my case.
After my last blog, one or two of you, the Young Pretender included, have had the nerve to accuse me, The Werewolf of Hampshire, of being obsessed with the Saskatoon just because it rhymes with moon.
I have been quick to point out to them that there is a big difference in being enthusiastic as opposed to being obsessed and that when the saskatoon berry appears on the supermarket shelves they will remember where they heard of it first.
In truth, so enthusiastic am I, that my new ambition is to be the first man to plant a saskatoon on the moon!
In an earlier entry, in February, I introduced you to the new "Super Food" the Saskatoon, as supplied by the Scottish artist and gardener John Stoa. See details here if you missed it: http://www.johnstoa.co.uk/saskatoon.htm
John contacted me recently to introduce me to his new blog. John writes a gardening column for a local newspaper and has archived the series of articles which can be found at Scottish Artist and his Garden: http://scottishartistandhisgarden.blogspot.com/
John has sent over 3000 plants around the UK this year which will start to flower and fruit next year. He is confidently predicting that 2011 will be the year of the saskatoon. I will, of course, keep you informed.
I also had a missive from The Welsh Bard, EvansAbove, which included this ode inspired by my last entry:
Allotmenteers in Hampshire sing In praise of Chris, the Kibosh King, A man who dedicates his life To giving weeds some serious strife. The Marestail genus (aka The Arsenal boss) has had its day In Cove, where Chris’s new campaign Has hit the plant like acid rain...
Though Chris’s Kibosh kills the weeds, It may do more than Baltzer needs, As photos taken every time He gets his gong, suggest a crime. It may be that the Rushmoor Mayors Quite simply aren’t long-distance stayers, But some suspicion lands on Chris – Can Kibosh be their Nemesis?
Incidentally the Kibosh, applied last week, certainly seems to have done the trick and one more spraying in the Spring, if and when it raises it's feathery head again, should see the blighter off for good.
On the footie front it has been a good weekend. Boro are settling down well in the higher division and turning in some good league results. I'll gloss over the disappointing 5-0 hammering we received in the FA Cup replay at Dover, particularly annoying as we should have won the first game comfortably, but an excellent win last week at home to high flying Chelmsford followed by a draw away at second place Bromley on Saturday, has moved Boro up to 8th place, ahead of local rivals Woking and Basingstoke and only 2 points off the play-offs. Back to back wins away to lowly St Albans on Tuesday and at home to Hampton and Richmond on Saturday should see us consolidate our position.
Meanwhile the Super Blues are up into 6th place following a win away to Sheffield United. I am confident that when Kean wakes up and realises what his best team is we will be right up there in the mix.
Sadly, when you read articles like this it just makes you despair:
Connor Wickham row may be costly for Ipswich manager Roy Keane By Joe Bernstein
Roy Keane's job at Ipswich is under serious threat after falling out with 17-year-old boy wonder Connor Wickham, rated the best young prospect in English football. Their deteriorating relationship is almost certain to see one of them leave in January with the Ipswich board having to choose between them. Tottenham, Arsenal, Liverpool and Chelsea have been keeping tabs on Wickham, whose £8million value was boosted by his starring role for England Under-17s when they became European champions earlier this year. Keane, who used Wickham as a secondhalf substitute in their 2-0 win over Millwall yesterday, has sometimes taken a hard line with the 6ft 3in striker to keep his feet on the ground. But the 'tough love' has backfired with Wickham upset by his manager's treatment and confused about being left out for Keane signings like Jason Scotland. Wickham, who became the youngest player in Ipswich's history when he made his debut shortly after his 16th birthday, has been tipped to become England's best traditional No9 since Alan Shearer.
Well I certainly know which one I'd keep, but what do I know?
My young mate Micky, the apprentice allotmenteer, has a weed problem on his newly acquired plot, namely Marestail AKA Horsestail or Pipeweed or, to give it it's botanical name, Equisetum arvense. This little devil is very difficult to get rid off. The evil black creeping rhizomes penetrate deep into the soil and where they surface they give rise to green ‘bottlebrush’ stems in the late spring and summer.
It is virtually impossible to eradicate by cultural means because when you pull up one of these stems you are rewarded a few weeks later by two more where once there was one! When you dig the ground where they lay, the black rhizomes break up and this helps to propagate more stems. A three centimetre length of rhizome can give rise to a whole new plant.
We have achieved a measure of success by spraying it with Glyphosate (‘Round-up’) but the problem with using any herbicide spray against Marestail is that the ‘Bottlebrush’ stems are practically impervious to chemical uptake by virtue of the waxy nature and small ‘leaf’ area.
However, last week during an idle early morning moment I decided to put Google to the test and searched the internet on “Control Marestail” and I was immediately rewarded with the following:
1. Control mares tail weeds
www.progreen.co.uk Buy Kibosh online to kill weeds plus superb control of mares tail
Further investigation of the website revealed the answer to all our prayers:
I immediately ordered 2 bottles which were delivered that evening.
The wonders of the internet.
Now we didn't get where we are today by procrastinating so “Have Kibosh will spray” has been adopted as our motto for the week and yesterday morning the Kibosh was applied. How successful it will be is questionable as we are very late in the season and the growing process which causes the chemical to be absorbed and transferred through the root system is virtually at an end. If not we can try again in the spring if and when the weed starts growing again.
Since our return from Cyprus we have been busy clearing the raised beds so that manure can be dug in ready for next season. I have planted autumn onion sets, garlic and broad beans, on the appropriate moon days of course, for an early crop next year.
Just to give you all a laugh, here is the photo from the Rushmoor in Bloom Award night.
Nothing changes except the Mayor!
I seem to put more effort in each year but the result is the same. Next year, with the newly purchased caravan in Selsey, I won't be spending so much time at the allotment but perhaps that will mean I will do better - You Never Can Tell!
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:
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!
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:
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.
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!
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
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.
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:
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.
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:
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
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????
So when I slid open the door I was greeted by three very wet rooms. In order to dry them out sufficiently to work in I would have to carry out the annual ritual of the switching on of the greenhouse illuminations, not quite in the same league as Blackpool or Great Yarmouth, but nevertheless always, for me, an exciting time.
