Off at a tangent

I used to have an allotment – actually, I’ve had 2, but not at the same time. For a while now I’ve been missing having one – I miss the banter, I miss excitement of seeing how it’s doing, I miss showing it off to people, I miss the ritual of “going down the plot” and I miss the escape.

Friends have an allotment in a nearby town, and they very kindly let me plant my over wintering onions there when I discovered I had white rot at home. They also said I could use as much of it as I liked, but that’s never felt right to me. I’m the sort that would always ask if was OK for me to do something – which could become wearing for them, but the way I see it that’s surely better than them turning up ready to plant something out only to find I’d used the space they had earmarked.

Last week I confessed to the OH that I might ask them to let me know if a plot comes up – these things don’t come up very often and it’s only a small site.

On Saturday, I was out collecting manure with one of the aforementioned friends. He asked if I’d like an allotment, and after a few seconds of deliberation, I admitted that yes, I’re really like one. “There’s one just come up, I’ll get you the guy’s number”. Oh, OK. So maybe not next year then, maybe rather sooner.

I didn’t hold my breath, as I knew my friend had to jump through hoops to get one himself. Saturday lunchime (in between manure runs – so to speak), I gave the guy to call. Having quickly established that there was a plot available and how I’d found out about it, I asked if I could put my name forward (thinking there was probably a list of people wanting one). “It’s yours” he says. Oh, OK. Thanks. So maybe right now then!!!

I think my friends were a little miffed – they’d had a struggle to get theirs and I’d walked straight into one. Not only that, it’s a good one – fenced, with shed, the beds are edged, loads of strawberry plants, well dug, hardly a weed in sight.

I’ve already planned it out and planted my onions out. Found some old drums in the shed that I’ve now installed as waterbutts. There are some changes I’d like to make to it, but most of the major ones will be made in the autumn and winter. For now I’ll concentrate on the rowing bit and worry about the structure later.

It’s funny actually, After I had a look at it I thought “what on earth am I going to fill that with?”. Then I got home and had a look round the greenhouse. I’m careful with seed – only sowing what I need plus a bit extra for spares (I hate “pricking out” – it’s my least favorite gardening job. I’d rather do the weeding!), but this year I’ve sown far more than I’d need for the beds in the garden. Spooky!

Swindlers

Just had the electricity bill in.

We pay by direct debit, and had overpaid, so having told me that the “owe” us money, they very kindly stated they’d carry that over to the next statement.

If that’s not bad enough, they went on to state that they had “reviewed your account and the good news is your monthly payments do not need to change.” THE HELL THEY DON’T!!! We’ve just come through the heaviest period of electricity usage and had overpaid by a significant amout – I’d say they needed to change quite a lot.

I prepared myself for a call centre onslaught (tea, bickies, comfy chair and rubber mallet [to hit the phone with - sledge hammers tend to break phones]) and gave them a call.

After a short wait, I was connected to a very bubbly “operative” who was happy to refund my overspend, and, without prompting, offered to check if she could reduce my monthly payment. Funnily enough, she found she could – by nearly 24%.

So how come, when the bill was sent the same company thought the payments didn’t need to change I wonder?

Bittersweet irony

I’m not usually one to hit the sales – having a pathological loathing of crowds, walking at snail’s pace, rummaging and a health scepticism about “was” prices doesn’t usually add up to it being a pleasant experience. However, I’ve recently lost some weight which has meant I’ve dropped a dress size for the first time ever (i.e. since I went from an age size to a dress size) and decided to see if I could treat myself to a couple of things that actually fit.

To my surprise I found a number of tops which I really liked, but there was one snag – none of them were in my new size, but ironically I could have had any of them in my old size.

Oh well, never mind. I’ve put that much weight on over Christmas (owing to it being spent with Mother and not Fell walking as I’d have preferred) I might soon be able to find something in my size!

EU sees sense shock…

…well almost!

Yesterday, the EU finally had the sense to scrap MOST of the utterly stupid and pointless regulations it decided we must live by regarding the size and shape of our fruit and veg.

I’m talking about rules like:
Class I cucumbers must “be reasonably well shaped and practically straight (maximum height of the arc: 10 mm per 10 cm of the length of cucumber)”. Class II “slightly crooked cucumbers may have a maximum height of the arc of 20 mm per 10 cm of length of the cucumber”.

Will they not taste as good or be less nutritious if they’re bent at a right angle? No!

More info can be found here.

Right, I’m off to eat a wonky homegrown carrot – just like I have been for years.

A new Beaufort?

While out walking the mutt this morning, I was assulted by the weather.

As well as getting snowed on I was getting buffeted around by the wind, which got me thinking about the Beaufort Scale. As I was trying to remember the visual clues to wind speed (Force 0 = smoke rises vertically, Force 1= smoke drifts, Force 2 = leaves rustle etc) I emerged from behind the (unknown) shelter of a copse to be nearly blown off my feet.

This got me thinking, maybe there should be a modernisation of the Beaufort Scale? Something “people in the steet” could relate to (yes, dumbing down if you like, but it could be fun and kept me amused almost all the way home). For example, at what force do trousers get plastered to your legs? So here are a few suggestions, along with appropriate action plans:

Force 4 – long hair annoyingly tickles your nose – tie hair back
Force 7 – trousers are plastered to your legs – don’t wear baggy pants
Force 8 – small dogs take off – hold tight to lead and pretend you have a kite
Force 10 – people blown off their feet – acquire large dog, lay flat on ground and use dog as an anchor

It’s incomplete, but a start.