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