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 Dai Brainbocs 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 the last 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 Bhagwhat Ganduly (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!
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 Mnsr Platini!!
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!!"
But wouldn't it be nice ...............
