We were away at the coast again at the weekend and are just about settled in to our caravan.
The highlights of the weekend were the full moon on Saturday and the low tides and sunsets on Sunday and Monday evenings.
You also you meet some very strange people on the beach!
The low tides were apparently exceptional, and, as reported in the Daily Mail:
“Coastguards at the Needles, on the western side of the Isle of Wight, dealt with five ships in distress at the same time.
Among them was the 2,900 tonne cargo ship Paula-C, on its way to Cowes with a crew of nine. They were forced to wait for a high tide to lift them clear of a shingle bank.
A coastguard spokesman said a 25 foot yacht had also run aground and three other vessels were also marooned by the unexpected turn of events.
He said: ‘We checked them all and there were no injuries, just some surprise at being caught out like this. Blame it on the Moon.’”
However, the full moon on Saturday night, wasn’t just any old full moon. It appeared much larger and brighter than usual as it made its closest approach to Earth in 18 years.
Scientists estimate that the “supermoon” was 14 percent bigger and 30 percent brighter at its peak.
Full moons vary in size because of the oval shape of its orbit. On Saturday, the moon was 221,565 miles away — the closest to Earth since 1992.
This type of full moon tends to bring a range of high and low tides, but experts say that’s nothing to worry about. Nor, apparently, is there any truth to the superstition that supermoons cause natural disasters.
Try telling that to the Japanese!
‘Oh swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb,’ wrote Shakespeare in the 16th century, reflecting his long-held fascination with the cycles of our nearest satellite.
I think he was spot on.
On a lighter note, our daughter Karen and her family visited us at the caravan last weekend and our eldest grandson, Ryan aged 7, on seeing the sign “Welcome to Selsey” decided he would call the town Lesley.
No, he is not dyslectic; he just has a good sense of humour, (sometimes), and perhaps he will go on to be a future Countdown champion.
I’ll have to pass on some tips from the Welsh Bard.
Heres a shot of Janice and I having a picnic on the beach:
Off to Lesley again tomorrow for the start of the geriatric entertainment season.
Last Tuesday, with the car loaded up to the roof, we set off for Selsey to set up shop in the new caravan.
When we arrived we found that most of what we had taken, (duvets, pillows, crockery, cutlery, saucepans, bowls, bucket, waste bin etc.), had been delivered to the van and included in the purchase price, so most of what was in the car I would be taking back home.
Moral - Read the small print! A couple of days earlier we had watched a program on BBC2 about the storms at Selsey in 2008, which did nothing to reassure us that our little holiday home, just 2 minutes from the beach, was a good investment.
This video was taken from the costguard station, which is adjacent to the caravan park, on March 10th 2008, and yes, it was a "Stormy Monday" but according to the blues classic, "Tuesday's just as bad".
All I can say is we are fully insured.
While we were there we got down to the serious business of checking out the local hostelries and here are the results of the Farnborough jury, marked on a 1 (Undrinkable but there was a hand pump) to 9 (As good as it gets) basis. Incidentally 10 is the same as 9 except the beer is free.
Fountain Inn, Chichester
King& Barnes Sussex Bitter - 9
Hall & Woodhouse Badger – 6
Neptune Inn, Selsey
Arundel Bitter – 7
Greene King IPA – 7
Fullers London Pride – 6
Anchor, Siddlesham
Courage Best – 6
The Seal Hotel, Selsey
Youngs Bitter – 8
Greene King Abbott – 8
Ships Bar, Bunn Leisure, Selsey
Sharpes Doombar – 8
Lifeboat Inn, Selsey
Adnams Lighthouse – 9
Brakspeares Bitter – 8
I think I’m going to like Selsey!
While we were in the Neptune Inn we came across the most bizarre pub competition.
It was called “The Death Race – Who’s next?”
There was a list of 40 ageing celebrities ranging from Zsar Zsar Gabor to Prince Phillip to Tom Finney and for £5 you sponsor your chosen victim - first one to pop their clogs rewards their sponsor with £200.
Exactly what happens if you, the sponsor, pop your clogs first is unclear!
Somewhat disrespectfully, I thought, Selsey’s most famous living resident, Patrick Moore, was included on the list. Perhaps he uses the Neptune and is just a good sport!
Sadly the competition was fully subscribed so I will have to wait for the next one, which looking at the list of names shouldn’t be too long.
Whilst looking down the list of entertainment at the various club houses on our site it dawned on me that “The Death Race – Who’s Next?” could equally be applied to the geriatric bunch of rockers and rollers who are appearing throughout the season.
Booked so far for a veritable wheelchair extravaganza of geriatric entertainment:
Ben E King (72) Gary US Bonds (72) Alan (Animals) Price (69) John (Status Quo) Coghlan (64) Chas (Chas & Dave) Hodges (67) Tony Christie (68) Alvin (Shane Fenton) Stardust (68) The Manfreds - Paul Jones (69), Mike Da'bo (67), Tom McGuiness (69), Mike Hugg (68) The Searchers - Johh McNally (70) Marmalade - Graham Knight (67) Cliff (Rebel Rouser) Bennett (71)
plus the Ivy League and The Dreamers (less Freddie of course!)
Sadly my drinking mate Jack Scott is not yet booked. I’ll have to have a word with the management.
Mind it’s not all bad. Also appearing are Brand New Heavies, Incognito and Tight Fit.
Whoever's appearing, Gary US Bonds or not, I can’t see Janice and I dancing 'till a quarter to three!
When I was working full time I never wanted to get up in the morning but now that I am retired I am invariably awake by 5.30 am. I read for half an hour or so and then the alarm (radio) comes on, I listen to the news then I get up.
Currently I am reading an Ed McBain Omnibus edition of 87th Precinth stories and appropriately enough this mornings chapter went like this:
"MONDAY MORNING CAME.
It aways does.
On Monday morning you sit back and take a look at things, and things look lousy. That's a part of Monday, the nature of the beast. Monday should be a fresh beginning, a sort of road-company New Year's Day. But, somehow, Monday is only and always a continuation, a familiar awakening to a start which is really only a repetition. There should be laws against Monday mornings.
Nobody likes Monday morning. It was invented for hangovers. But Monday is Monday and legislation will never change its personality. Monday is Monday, and it stinks."
The great thing about retirement is that you don't have Mondays. They don't exist. In fact you don't have days of the week. You don't have weekends. You just have a brand new day.
Except Saturday afternoons of course which brings me on to the subject of football (again!).
Having crept up to 2nd in the league after a succession of back to back wins, two weeks ago the young allotmenteer and I witnessed a well below par midweek home performance, losing to 10 men Boreham Wood 1-0 which included our top scorer blasting a penalty, a la Wilkinson, miles over the bar. Strangely Boro have struggled to beat 10 man teams of late and in one case didn't score until 10 minutes from the end having played the entire 2nd half against 9 men at home.
The sendings of were no more bizarre than that of the Ebbsfleet keeper a couple weeks ago who saw red after 10, yes TEN, seconds, see excerpt from the BBC website:
Web stardom befalls
Ebbsfleet keeper
Preston Edwards
Ebbsfleet goalkeeper Preston Edwards has become a web sensation after his sending off against Farnborough.
Footage of the 21-year-old's dismissal after only 10 seconds has attracted over 450,000 hits on video-hosting website YouTube.
Edwards saw red in the Blue Square Bet South match on 5 February, which his side went on to lose 3-0.
"I'd like to be known for better, different reasons, but it's happened," Edwards told BBC Radio Kent.
"I've got to take it on the chin. At least I've got something in history."
Edwards' sending off is not the quickest ever - Chippenham striker David Pratt was sent off against Bashley after just 3 seconds in 2008 - but is thought to be the fastest red card for a goalkeeper.
As Fleet had no goalkeeper on the bench, midfielder Tom Phipp, 18, had to play in goal for the remaining 89 minutes.
He wasn't happy, and yes, Boro won 3-0.
On the social front, following on from lunch with our local MP, I have been seen in public walking out with none other than Baroness Thatcher. Worse still, to avoid being recognised, I had to disguise myself as the Lone Ranger's sidekick Tonto.
How embarrassing is that!
Of course the Welsh Bard came up with an offering:
As Mrs Thatcher, Jan out-Streeps Streep,
And Chris’s outfit? Tontos don’t come cheap:
Those hair extensions must have cost a pile,
And though it’s been too small for quite a while,
That buckskin top was Chris’s as a kid –
So what a clever job the tailor did!
Chris likes to make an effort, going out,
But who did Baltzer pay to play his Scout?
Kemo Sabe...
Finally, back to the subject of the allotment.
Many thanks for all the emails of encouragement- I will respond to them individually this week.
John "Saskatoon" Stoa from Dundee summed it up perfectly:
"Don't give in to them. Your plot needs you, and so do we, otherwise your blog will be all football and no recreational gardening."
And of course the Welsh Bard came up trumps with this, headed up:
Bastards - this won't help, but it's my way of dealing with it...
The vandals came, the little sods, Enraging horticult’ral gods, And, worst of all, upsetting Chris, Who’s never known a day like this! And, though his mates may lend a hand To form a vigilante band Who’ll chase the bastards far and near, The answer may be found - in beer...
Now, after all these dreadful shocks, Chris needs a session at the Fox, Though, in the darkness, I’d have thought The victim won’t get much support. But soon th’Allotmenteers will cheer As Baltzer’s furry hands appear... Those arsonists will change their tune When Chris goes howling to the moon!
You have to laugh about it, and, of course I will rise above it and carry one. After all my grandad had a smallholding complete with pig sty, and my father grew most of what he and my Mum ate, so I guess it's in my blood.
I even managed to face a couple hours yesterday raking though the remains of my HQ, salvaging what I could, mostly tools minus handles. What is most upsetting is that several of those tools were my dads and in one case my grandads, irreplaceable.
Janice and I are now looking forward to setting up our new holiday caravan in a weeks time.
I can't wait for the warmer nights, sitting outside on the veranda with something suitably cold in my hand listening to music such as this:
I was woken up at 11.30 pm on Thursday night by a phone call from Hampshire Fire Service informing me that my sheds and greenhouse at the allotment had been raised to the ground.
They had made the site safe and were leaving.
I went straight to the plot at 8.00 am this morning to find that the bastards had broken into 7 sheds and mine, being the last on their trail of destruction, had been set fire to.
From what I was able to recognise from what was left none of the garden tools including a petrol mower had been stolen - just pure vandalism.
I reported the incident to the police who were very sympathetic and helpful, meeting me an hour later back at the plot to take photos and wait for the forensic team to arrive.
The desk sergeant even asked me if I needed victim support assistance to which I politely told him that it wouldn't be required for me but probably would be for the little bastards that destroyed £500 worth of my equipment if I got hold of them before they did.
I am now re-considering my allotmenteering future.
On Saturday, armed with two hospitality tickets, the young allotmenteer and I arrived at the Rushmoor Stadium at 1.00 pm to "get some down us" prior to the Boro v Havant & Waterlooville game.
Joining us on our table was our local MP, Gerald Howarth, who had been holding a surgery for his constituents that morning.
Never ones to pass up on an opportunity, particularly after several pints of ale, the young allotmenteer and I enlightened Mr. Howarth with our policies for putting the world to rights with particular reference to his recent controversial interview in the Farnborough News and Mail.
Here is an extract from the article:
Influx of Nepalese ‘must stop’
By Pete Castle
January 27, 2011
PUBLIC services are in danger of being "overwhelmed" by a recent influx of Nepalese immigrants, according to the area’s MP.
Gerald Howarth, who represents Aldershot and Farnborough in Parliament, has made an extraordinary plea to the prime minister to deal with an issue he said was of "grave concern" in the area.
In a letter sent to David Cameron on Tuesday, Mr Howarth said the problem related to the inward migration of Nepalese people as a result of the 2009 High Court ruling that gave all Gurkhas the right to settle in the UK with their dependants.
“This has had a very significant impact over a very short period of time and it is now estimated that 10% of the borough of Rushmoor’s population of approximately 90,000 is Nepalese,” said Mr Howarth in the letter.
"This issue is of deep concern to the local authority and its leader as services are in danger of being overwhelmed by this influx, as are those provided by the NHS, Citizens Advice Bureau and local schools."
Mr Howarth told the the Prime Minister that 'GP practices are struggling to cope' and new arrivals were causing 'immense tensions within the community.'
"The tensions are exacerbated by the difficulties encountered by the Nepalese in integrating into the settled community, particularly given their low levels of literacy and limited understanding of English," he wrote.
"I have a constructive proposal and would appreciate the chance to put it to you."
Speaking to the News and Mail, Mr Howarth said he was hoping to speak to Mr Cameron to put his idea forward. He said he was responding to comments received from constituents 'in words of one syllable' that expressed disquiet about the situation and that immigration had been the 'number one issue' at the general election.
"It is my duty to speak up on their behalf," Mr Howarth said. "As one man told me, they are trying to create a little Kathmandu. It is a change in the character of our towns and people are entitled to express a view on it".
He said that one GP surgery in Farborough, a third of the 9,000 patients were Nepalese.
"It has got to stop, we can't accept any more," Mr Howarth said.
But theMP's intervention has been seen by some as inflammatory.
Chhatra Rai, general secretary of the British Gurkha Welfare Society, whose headquarters are in Farnborough, said that while there were problems, Mr Howarth’s intervention was "unhelpful" and could set back efforts to help new arrivals settle.
Controversial stuff and has certainly stirred up a hornet's nest with the Joanna Lumley brigade.
Personally I find it hard to comprehend how we can let people of any nationality settle in this country without basic reading, writing and speaking skills in English. Without that integration is almost impossible.
I must applaud Simon Hollis, Chairman of FFC, for his efforts to secure the clubs partnership with UK based Nepalese side Sahara F.C. and his policy of welcoming the local Nepalese youngsters to the excellent Farnborough Youth set-up which is comitted to the development of junior football in the Farnborough and the surrounding area.
Whilst on the subject of football, having read my earlier blog (rant) on the woes of English football, Simon Hollis approached me and asked if he could print it in the match day program.
Published - at last!
Mind you after my point 2 "Ban Johnny Foreigner from our game", I am more nervous than ever when walking home from the ground. Without taking a massive detour I have to skirt a very dark and isolated area that is affectionately known as by the local Covies as "Ghurka City"!
Perhaps it's a good thing they can't read!
Anyway, back to gardening. On Sunday Janice and I attended the Hampshire Potato Fair, a rivetting event involving closely scrutinizing over 100 varieties of seed potato before making a choice of what to grow this year. I know how to give a women a good time!
There were a number of other stands pedling various other gardening sundries and as I approached one of them, low and behold I spotted a bottle of Kibosh. I immediately engaged the chap in attendance, telling him of our success "up the plot" with the product.
"Are you staying long?" he asked, I could do with you telling that to a few prospective customers. I duly hung about and was able to assist in a couple of sales.
Turns out he is the MD of the the company marketing Kibosh. I knew his face was familiar - he was the man on the promotional videos of the product that I had watched a few months earlier.
He told me that he has got to change the name because "Kibosh" is still the registered name of some obsolete product from many years ago. It is now going to be known as "Kurtail" but he has been told he can't even say formerly known as "Kibosh".
As the young allotmenteer was quick to point out "Kurtail" doesn't have the same permanence as "Kibosh".
So much has happened in the first two weeks of a year that started so badly for the Werewolf.
Firstly England thrash the Aussies and win the Ashes again, then Roy Keane gets the sack, embarrassingly Ipswich get thumped 7 - 0 by Chelsea, three days later Ipswich miraculously beat Arsenal 1 -0 and now this morning I wake up to find that I'm a Leo not a Virgo (see below).
All of these events have enabled me to put to the back of my mind the libelous article in the Moon on Sunday and resolve to be more cautious of the company I keep and from whom I will accept offers of free beer, and, most importantly, to come out of retirement and "Carry on Blogging".
Many thanks for all the emailed messages of support with particular mention to the the Welsh Bard who came up with a wonderful version of Frank's classic, "My Way".
With a bit of Evans - Baltzer collaboration we finalised on this version which is to be to be sung aloud to maximise the enjoyment:
And now, the truth is clear, A brand new year, they say I'm barking! The snow has made me mad, It’s very sad, and I ain't larking.
And though I like my grog, I've done my blog, and met my deadlines, But now I have to log, I've hit the headlines! I've travelled far and wide, My spade I've' plied in every tropic, But now it’s come to this, the rumour is I'm Lycanthropic!
And though I like my grog, I've done my blog, and met my deadlines, But now I have to log, I've hit the headlines!
Yes there were times you’re bound to think, I knocked back more than I could drink, But through the haze there was no doubt, I didn’t pause to spit it out, But had one more, fell to the floor and hit the headlines!
I gave you Saskatoon, I loved the moon, and maybe sooner, I should have seen the signs, Read through the lines, and seen I'm loonar!
And though I like my grog, I've done my blog, and met my deadlines, But now I have to log, I've hit the headlines!
For what is a man without the moon, I can’t go on if not in toon, To stand my ground and fight the cause, Still make the Fox for early doors, It’s all a game, to clear my name, and hit the headlines!
I've hit the headlines!
I'm working on a karaoke video version but it is proving quite time consuming but watch this space.
More importantly, as I touched on above, this morning I read that I have been wearing the wrong clothes for the last 64 and a bit years.
Apparently, according to astronomers at the Minnesota Planetarium Society, the earth has “wobbled” out of alignment with the moon and those of you, like me, that have always thought they were Virgo are actually Leo.
Astronomers have called for the zodiac signs to be overhauled because they no are no longer accurate.
The ancient Babylonians based zodiac signs on the constellation that the sun was ‘in’ on the day a person was born.
But during the thousands of years since, the moon's gravitational pull has made the Earth shift on its axis by a factor of 23 degrees and created a one-month shift in the stars' alignment.
Astronomers are now proposing to move all the star signs back one month and introduce a 13th star sign, Ophiuchus, to help readjust the zodiac calendar.
Here is the revised astrological chart:
This change will come as a shock to many who will discover they have been reading the wrong star sign their entire lives - and will not necessarily be happy with their new ones.
Those under dominant and creative Leo could now find themselves a Cancer, which means they are moody and sensitive.
A passionate Scorpio could become a more diplomatic and balanced Libra whilst if you were a Taurus, you could now find yourself a stubborn Aries.
A critical, industrious, methodical and efficient Virgo, like myself, has overnight become an ambitious, warm and enthusiastic Leo!
Worse still, Janice, along with many who have always considered themselves an easy going, wandering, broad minded philosophising Sagittarius now have to come to terms with being a peace seeking, flamboyant, dream interpreting, snake holding Ophiuchus.
The big question is, of course, am I still "In Toon" or do I need "re-Tooning"?
Me, I blame it on the Moon but I'm still planning on going!
It is with much regret that I have no choice other than to make this the final entry in the chronicles of the LoonarAllotmenteer.
I have very much enjoyed bringing my thoughts and adventures to a wider audience over the last 12 months, amazingly they have been read all over the world – America, Canada, Columbia, Australia, Cyprus, Spain, Germany, China, Croatia, even in Wales, but in the last 24 hours my credibility and reputation as a fine upstanding member of the local community has been brought into total disrepute and I am forced to withdraw from public life while I consider my options.
No doubt by now many of you will have seen the headlines in the Sunday tabloids, but for those of you who haven’t, here is the source of all my problems: http://www.moononsunday.webs.com/
All I can say at this time is that I vehemently deny these allegations and so called confessions and will do everything in my power to clear the name of “The Werewolf of Hampshire”.
In the meantime, if you wish to be associated with the “Save Our Werewolf” campaign, please send your details and messages of support to saveourwerewolf@chrisb.me.uk.
So in the end, perhaps not surprisingly, it looks like the moon has been my achilles heel.
The moon certainly is a hard mistress and, on that philosophical note, I’ll sign off with this wonderful Jimmy Webb song, played here by Charlie Haden and Pat Metheny:
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.
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!
