It has taken a great deal of persuasion to extricate me from my little piece of sanity - my potting shed, to share my considerable knowledge of the vegetable world with the cyber community.
You might be thinking that you have never seen my name amongst the vast array of books and magazines that purport to help people grow their own food and there is a good reason for that - no amount of money can prise my knowledge from me, for it has been passed down through generations of my family and my father, like many before him, swore on the Pendant of Intula that he would only impart the wisdom of my forefathers to his first born.
I was warned that to break this ancient tradition would bring forth misery and damnation.
However, fate intervened on Monday 8th January this year when I inadvertently left the Pendant of Intula on the number 27 bus.
Despite my efforts and those of Hilary at the lost property office to recover the pendulant, it remains missing (although I did see a scruffy youth with a dog on a rope wearing something similar as I left the butchers on Tuesday. He appeared to be in a hurry and I had no intention of pursuing him in the rain without my raincoat).
Given that my first born appears to have little interest in growing food, preferring instead to preen himself in the rear view mirror of his Vauxhall Corsa, I have taken the decision to impart my knowledge to you all.
Needless to say, that if misery and damnation descends on any of you for reading this blog, I accept no liablity whatsoever.
I would however be interested to know if any pestilence or plagues of any description befall you.
I was warned that to break this ancient tradition would bring forth misery and damnation.
However, fate intervened on Monday 8th January this year when I inadvertently left the Pendant of Intula on the number 27 bus.
Despite my efforts and those of Hilary at the lost property office to recover the pendulant, it remains missing (although I did see a scruffy youth with a dog on a rope wearing something similar as I left the butchers on Tuesday. He appeared to be in a hurry and I had no intention of pursuing him in the rain without my raincoat).
Given that my first born appears to have little interest in growing food, preferring instead to preen himself in the rear view mirror of his Vauxhall Corsa, I have taken the decision to impart my knowledge to you all.
Needless to say, that if misery and damnation descends on any of you for reading this blog, I accept no liablity whatsoever.
I would however be interested to know if any pestilence or plagues of any description befall you.
2 comments:
Very interesting MV
Can I ask one thing please no liquidised veg it makes me feel so queezy...... all those poor vegetables mashed & screaming)
Do you have any good vegetable tips for stopping the Corsa boy racers apart from a carrot up their pipe
Good Luck :-)
I believe that a carrot up the pipe is considered a serious offence in some countries - you may wish to check with your local constabulary first.
I prefer the mustard and cress enema but that's another story.
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