Andy and I have been very bad. We haven't visited the allotment for four weeks. I know, I know, what kind of allotmenteers are we? I'll tell you...we are the kind of allotmenteers who do their best for 8 months of the year and then run out of fizzle somewhere around the middle of October when everything has been harvested and/or stops growing, including the weeds. Also, the weather hasn't been helping, the last three weekends or so being heavy with rain. And walking on land where one grows stuff is a no-no during wet weather, because it mucks up the soil structure or something - that's our excuse anyway, and a pretty valid scientific one at that.
But this Sunday we knew we had to go and sort out the polytunnel. I'd been having nightmares about it; that the tomato plants that had been so fruitful for us for the last 3 months would be reduced to a brown slimy stodge and that the rest of the allotment plot would be drowning under a quagmire, rotting our Jerusalem artichokes in the process. Some serious tidying up for winter was needed, and the dreadful deed could be delayed no longer.
So it was with some trepidation that we visited Plot 87, dressed in wellies and raincoats, our heads hanging low with shame. And guess what?? The tomatoes were still growing!! We picked, in the middle of November, 14lbs of ripe tomatoes, 10lbs of green tomatoes and a shedload of big, fat and decidely unrotting Jerusalem artichokes!! There are still chilli peppers on the pepper plants and a couple of aubergines making a final bid for ripeness. Oh, shame on me for doubting the powers of Mother Nature's growing abilities.
So we cleared out the polytunnel, tidied away the old beans and sunflowers, did some weeding, upped some cabbages for the chickens and came home with many, many tomatoes, many artichokes, some carrots, parsnips, beetroot and spinach and a feeling that actually we weren't such naughty allotmenteers after all.
We have now reached the end of our third year as trainee self-sufficiency bods. In those three years we have learned many new things. We have grown a vast majority of our veg, a good dollop of soft fruit, and flowers for the bees. Our hens have kept us in eggs for well over a year and a half now. We have learned how to make breads and jams, chilli sauces and marmalades, sausages and wine. We have acquired a greenhouse, a polytunnel and a hen house. We have made our own compost using two bins and a wormery. And some of our experiments have worked well, others have flopped like a great big floppy thing.
But the biggest thing we have learnt is that a huge amount of progress is possible in a very small space i.e our wee urban back garden and an average size allotment. We have learnt that when you pull together as a team, like me and Andy, you don't need to upsticks and move to live a dream, you don't need to have acres and acres of land to help make a difference to your world and contribute to the welfare of Planet Earth.
But what I haven't learned is what to do with all these bloomin' green tomatoes that are sitting in the kitchen! I've found a recipe for River Cottage HQ pickle. I think I might have a go at that.
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
Monday, 16 November 2009
Why do people do that?
Before I head off on a tiny rant which is likely to become quite, quite massive by the time I've finished with it, you'll be pleased to know that, at the half way stage of NaNoWriMo, I hit the ground running this morning with 25,075 words under my belt. Which means I am 75 words ahead of schedule, so I can take it easy for,oh, a minute or two at least. And if you're not pleased, well, you jolly well should be, because it means you only have to suffer my work for less than half the words you've already suffered and for small mercies we should be grateful.
Now, what I want to know today, specifically, is why do people say they will do things and then they don't? I have examples. Our house, to start with. And the people who say they are interested in it and keep phoning our agent to say they are going to make an offer. It has been two and a half weeks now, since they came around for their second viewing. And have they made an offer? Have they heck. Not even a silly one. They've bombarded our estate agent with faffing questions, in fact, the whole thing has been a faff, with Andy and I have been living in Tenterhook Faff City. Well, we've given up, now. No, not given up, merely lost interest. We've resigned ourselves to the fact these people are faffers, no more no less, and faffers do not keep their word.
Example two. Heather is still looking for a job. Two and a half weeks ago, she trailed miles across the county on the train and by Shank's pony, to go for an interview which this company invited her to. Have they let her know if she got the job? No. Shame on you, Holiday Inn. And then, one and half weeks ago she went for another job interview. It was two interviews, actually, one group one in the evening involving role play which Heather is very good at being a Theatre graduate and all, and then back the next day to work on the shop floor. 'We'll let you know within the week, ' they said. Have they? No, they haven't. Shame on you, Body Shop. And now she is waiting to hear back from another well-known retail outlet, who PROMISED to let her know one way or another by Wednesday if she got the job, following her interview last Friday afternoon. I shall with-hold the name of this company for now, to see if they are as good as their word, but heaven help them if there is no news by Thursday.
No wonder young people are so disillusioned these days, if this is the way the job market is treating them. And talking to friends who have graduate off-spring of a similar age, Heather isn't the only one who is being treated with such bad manners by the great British employer. I AM APPALLED, and I've had nearly thirty years experience of navigating my way around the workplace with all its quirky and sometimes unpleasant foibles. I have been hardened to the knocks, I am middle-aged and cynical about these things. But the generation who follows mine should not be taking on that hard-edged cynicism at so young an age. They are the bright young things, the optimists, the talent that is supposed to moving our country onwards and upwards. My pension depends upon it.
And thirdly...actually, there is no thirdly. Phew! Two rants, today, are quite enough.
And as I said to Heather, there are better things waiting for her out there, in her chosen field of employment. She's applied for a couple of theatre-based jobs in London. They are with smaller concerns than the likes of these multi-national companies who treat people like emotionless numbers. So hopefully, they will have more manners.
'Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you love.'
Now, what I want to know today, specifically, is why do people say they will do things and then they don't? I have examples. Our house, to start with. And the people who say they are interested in it and keep phoning our agent to say they are going to make an offer. It has been two and a half weeks now, since they came around for their second viewing. And have they made an offer? Have they heck. Not even a silly one. They've bombarded our estate agent with faffing questions, in fact, the whole thing has been a faff, with Andy and I have been living in Tenterhook Faff City. Well, we've given up, now. No, not given up, merely lost interest. We've resigned ourselves to the fact these people are faffers, no more no less, and faffers do not keep their word.
Example two. Heather is still looking for a job. Two and a half weeks ago, she trailed miles across the county on the train and by Shank's pony, to go for an interview which this company invited her to. Have they let her know if she got the job? No. Shame on you, Holiday Inn. And then, one and half weeks ago she went for another job interview. It was two interviews, actually, one group one in the evening involving role play which Heather is very good at being a Theatre graduate and all, and then back the next day to work on the shop floor. 'We'll let you know within the week, ' they said. Have they? No, they haven't. Shame on you, Body Shop. And now she is waiting to hear back from another well-known retail outlet, who PROMISED to let her know one way or another by Wednesday if she got the job, following her interview last Friday afternoon. I shall with-hold the name of this company for now, to see if they are as good as their word, but heaven help them if there is no news by Thursday.
No wonder young people are so disillusioned these days, if this is the way the job market is treating them. And talking to friends who have graduate off-spring of a similar age, Heather isn't the only one who is being treated with such bad manners by the great British employer. I AM APPALLED, and I've had nearly thirty years experience of navigating my way around the workplace with all its quirky and sometimes unpleasant foibles. I have been hardened to the knocks, I am middle-aged and cynical about these things. But the generation who follows mine should not be taking on that hard-edged cynicism at so young an age. They are the bright young things, the optimists, the talent that is supposed to moving our country onwards and upwards. My pension depends upon it.
And thirdly...actually, there is no thirdly. Phew! Two rants, today, are quite enough.
And as I said to Heather, there are better things waiting for her out there, in her chosen field of employment. She's applied for a couple of theatre-based jobs in London. They are with smaller concerns than the likes of these multi-national companies who treat people like emotionless numbers. So hopefully, they will have more manners.
'Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you love.'
Friday, 13 November 2009
What Have They Done To Sainsbugs?
Our local Sainsbugs has been shut down for a week for a revamp. It all looked very interesting when I had occasion to pass by once or twice during the shut down. Many large lorries in the car park, plus a huge marquee. I thought, are they going to start doing weddings at Sainsbugs? I mean, I wouldn't put it past them, seeings as you can get all manner of malarkey in a supermarket these days.
And then there were the rumours of the 'NEW FISH COUNTER'. I was confused. Did they mean a fish counter that was newer than the old one, a counter that was for new fish only, or a person who was to be employed specifically to count the fish. If it was the last option, it wouldn't be a difficult job, especially as on the last two occasions I have tried to purchase some Cornish sardines there have only been three available for purchase, which is no good for a household containing three adults with healthy appetites, let me tell you.
So when the shop re-opened on Wednesday, I was there like a shot, hoping to pick up some 'Brand New Store' freebies, or a balloon at least. No such luck. In fact, the whole thing was a bit of a let-down. Whereas our local Sainsbugs was once a quirky, original place, with a bit of character to it, it has been transformed into a mini-me clone of the larger superstore Sainsbugs about 5 miles away over the other side of town. And as for the new fish counter. Well, it's no bigger than the old fish counter and there were still only 3 Cornish sardines to be had.
Ah well. I guess it just goes to show that new isn't necessarily better, as we are oft led to believe, and that sometimes it is wise to be resistant to change, as is my wont, because I am a Scorpio and a fixed sign and therefore can't help it.
And then there were the rumours of the 'NEW FISH COUNTER'. I was confused. Did they mean a fish counter that was newer than the old one, a counter that was for new fish only, or a person who was to be employed specifically to count the fish. If it was the last option, it wouldn't be a difficult job, especially as on the last two occasions I have tried to purchase some Cornish sardines there have only been three available for purchase, which is no good for a household containing three adults with healthy appetites, let me tell you.
So when the shop re-opened on Wednesday, I was there like a shot, hoping to pick up some 'Brand New Store' freebies, or a balloon at least. No such luck. In fact, the whole thing was a bit of a let-down. Whereas our local Sainsbugs was once a quirky, original place, with a bit of character to it, it has been transformed into a mini-me clone of the larger superstore Sainsbugs about 5 miles away over the other side of town. And as for the new fish counter. Well, it's no bigger than the old fish counter and there were still only 3 Cornish sardines to be had.
Ah well. I guess it just goes to show that new isn't necessarily better, as we are oft led to believe, and that sometimes it is wise to be resistant to change, as is my wont, because I am a Scorpio and a fixed sign and therefore can't help it.
Thursday, 12 November 2009
They said this would happen
It's bloomin' hard work trying to write 50,000+ words in thirty days. It works out at 1666.666666 (recurring) words every day. Last night, I was 5231 words behind schedule. I have been writing for three hours this morning and think I've probably done another 4,000 ish words which brings me down to about 1200 words behind PLUS the 1600 I need to keep up to date with today which means, unless I have a renewed burst this afternoon, I shall finish the day just under 3,000 behind which at least is better than where I started from this morning.
My back aches, my shoulders are stiff, the ends of my fingers are tingling with the constant beating against the teeny tiny keyboard of my new and teeny tiny netbook. The plot of Poulet Nous in in danger of becoming wildly out of control as I add new characters with random irresponsibility, the dialogue is becoming more camp, the raison d'etre quite unbelievable.
And yet I am LOVING IT!! I want to finish this bizarre and abstract story and I want to publish it. I don't care how rubbish it is becoming, it is going to be a marker to celebrate my year and a bit as a full time writer before I go back to the chalkface in January.
And the team at NaNoWriMo have been sending encouraging e-mails. They said that the point of disillusionment is reached on November 13th. That's tomorrow. I can understand what they mean but I'm going to work my way through it despite the aches and pains and frustrations because I AM A WRITER!!
I am sorry my blog entries here at the Manor have suffered because of my participation in this project. But I know you are all supporting my efforts and normal service will be resumed on December 1st with the Much Malarkey Christmas countdown. And now I am going for a bit of a wild dance around the kitchen to loosen the limbs and get the writing brain flowing again for round two this afternoon.
Love and hugs to you all!
My back aches, my shoulders are stiff, the ends of my fingers are tingling with the constant beating against the teeny tiny keyboard of my new and teeny tiny netbook. The plot of Poulet Nous in in danger of becoming wildly out of control as I add new characters with random irresponsibility, the dialogue is becoming more camp, the raison d'etre quite unbelievable.
And yet I am LOVING IT!! I want to finish this bizarre and abstract story and I want to publish it. I don't care how rubbish it is becoming, it is going to be a marker to celebrate my year and a bit as a full time writer before I go back to the chalkface in January.
And the team at NaNoWriMo have been sending encouraging e-mails. They said that the point of disillusionment is reached on November 13th. That's tomorrow. I can understand what they mean but I'm going to work my way through it despite the aches and pains and frustrations because I AM A WRITER!!
I am sorry my blog entries here at the Manor have suffered because of my participation in this project. But I know you are all supporting my efforts and normal service will be resumed on December 1st with the Much Malarkey Christmas countdown. And now I am going for a bit of a wild dance around the kitchen to loosen the limbs and get the writing brain flowing again for round two this afternoon.
Love and hugs to you all!
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
A Lot of Richards
It's always good to welcome a new follower on board, and I was thrilled today to pick up a comment for 'Poulet Nous' from a new reader called Richard. And now there are three gents called Richard who are good enough to drop by occasionally and read my work. However, I do want to point out that being called Richard is not a prerequisite for reading my blogs; in fact I actively encourage a wide variety of names, for I think diversity in the blog-reading community should be encouraged, don't you?
Oddly enough, during the last year I did start to write a long short-story involving 4 characters all called Richard but identified by various shortened nick-name forms. As you imagine, there was a fair amount of mistaken identity involved in the plot a la Shakespeare's 'As You Like It' and 'Twelfth Night', but it never got properly off the ground, coz Shakespeare I ain't. Weird, though, isn't it? Like a Richard blog magnet has been triggered by the power of creative writing.
So now I'm off to pen a little number called 'A Life of Luxury and Indulgence, With a Nissan Figaro Thrown in for Good Measure.' No, sorry, only joking...ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
You'll have to excuse my wild ramblings. I was awoken last night at 3.30 a.m with a bit of a delicate tummy and do you think I could get back to sleep? Could I cocoa. I gave up in the end and came downstairs to read, but needless to say I am now struggling to keep my eyes open. Ridiculous. But I've managed to knock out another chapter of 'Poulet Nous' and do a bit of Christmas shopping via the interwebbly, to boot.
And whilst I'm on the subject of reading, here is what I'm working my way through at the mo. In tandem, because I am a girl and I can multi-task, I am reading 'Julie and Julia' by Julie Powell and 'My Life in France' by the American housewife/chef, Julia Child. Now, when I went to see the film, which was very entertaining, I liked the Julie blogger character and didn't like the Julia chef character despite her being played by Meryl Streep who is one of my all time favourite actresses. And now I am reading the two books together, I am reversing my opinion of both characters. You see, the persuasive power of media is mighty, is it not? Perhaps I should watch the film again and see if I swap back and am more fickle than I realise.
And waiting in the wings are 'The Girl on the Landing,' by Paul Torday and 'The Other Queen,' by Philippa Gregory. I'm not sure how the Philippa Gregory has evaded my attention until now because I'm an avid reader of her work and have been ever since she published the Wideacre trilogy in the Eighties, but I have the book now, courtesy of Andy's close attention to my birthday wish list. And I am a very big fan of Paul Torday and gain hope from the fact he remained unpublished until his fifties, but now there is no stopping him!
Back to 'Poulet Nous' now. I'm sorry the chapters are appearing out of sync i.e base over apex, but I'm sure, if you're reading, you'll work out the order by my cunning use of sequential chapter numbering!
In the words of Julia Child - Bonne Appetit!
Oddly enough, during the last year I did start to write a long short-story involving 4 characters all called Richard but identified by various shortened nick-name forms. As you imagine, there was a fair amount of mistaken identity involved in the plot a la Shakespeare's 'As You Like It' and 'Twelfth Night', but it never got properly off the ground, coz Shakespeare I ain't. Weird, though, isn't it? Like a Richard blog magnet has been triggered by the power of creative writing.
So now I'm off to pen a little number called 'A Life of Luxury and Indulgence, With a Nissan Figaro Thrown in for Good Measure.' No, sorry, only joking...ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
You'll have to excuse my wild ramblings. I was awoken last night at 3.30 a.m with a bit of a delicate tummy and do you think I could get back to sleep? Could I cocoa. I gave up in the end and came downstairs to read, but needless to say I am now struggling to keep my eyes open. Ridiculous. But I've managed to knock out another chapter of 'Poulet Nous' and do a bit of Christmas shopping via the interwebbly, to boot.
And whilst I'm on the subject of reading, here is what I'm working my way through at the mo. In tandem, because I am a girl and I can multi-task, I am reading 'Julie and Julia' by Julie Powell and 'My Life in France' by the American housewife/chef, Julia Child. Now, when I went to see the film, which was very entertaining, I liked the Julie blogger character and didn't like the Julia chef character despite her being played by Meryl Streep who is one of my all time favourite actresses. And now I am reading the two books together, I am reversing my opinion of both characters. You see, the persuasive power of media is mighty, is it not? Perhaps I should watch the film again and see if I swap back and am more fickle than I realise.
And waiting in the wings are 'The Girl on the Landing,' by Paul Torday and 'The Other Queen,' by Philippa Gregory. I'm not sure how the Philippa Gregory has evaded my attention until now because I'm an avid reader of her work and have been ever since she published the Wideacre trilogy in the Eighties, but I have the book now, courtesy of Andy's close attention to my birthday wish list. And I am a very big fan of Paul Torday and gain hope from the fact he remained unpublished until his fifties, but now there is no stopping him!
Back to 'Poulet Nous' now. I'm sorry the chapters are appearing out of sync i.e base over apex, but I'm sure, if you're reading, you'll work out the order by my cunning use of sequential chapter numbering!
In the words of Julia Child - Bonne Appetit!
Oh Bum!
I have written a blog for Much Malarkey Manor, today, really I have, but it is, because I wasn't paying attention, published in the middle of 'Poulet Nous.' This was not, I can assure you, a cunning marketing ploy to get you to read my Novel in a Month effort.
And now, because I am a techno-phobe, I don't know how to shift it across to the correct blog page. I know it will involve cutting and pasting but I can't begin to tell you how much stuff I have lost to the ether through my appalling cutting and pasting technique.
So the blog will be returned to its proper home but not until this evening when my blog tekkie i.e Andy can sort out the mess for me!
Apologies one and all. Goodbye method and organisation, hello chaos!
And now, because I am a techno-phobe, I don't know how to shift it across to the correct blog page. I know it will involve cutting and pasting but I can't begin to tell you how much stuff I have lost to the ether through my appalling cutting and pasting technique.
So the blog will be returned to its proper home but not until this evening when my blog tekkie i.e Andy can sort out the mess for me!
Apologies one and all. Goodbye method and organisation, hello chaos!
Monday, 9 November 2009
All Behind Like a Cow's Tail
Although I feel I have been churning out much content for 'Poulet Nous' and NaNoWrimo, it's all been in my mind and I haven't actually committed much of it to actual written blog. In fact, this weekend has been so busy I found myself at least 4,000 words behind schedule this morning. However, I've spent the last two and a half hours writing Chapters 7 and 8, so may have caught up with myself a bit by now.
The thing is, I got distracted with Christmas this weekend, which, in my defence, is late for me, who usually has it all sussed by the end of October and is shouting 'Bring it on, Santa.' But then I realised yesterday that I haven't even got my Advent Candle yet, and Advent starts in barely three week's time. So then I got distracted into making Christmas lists - things to do like ordering the goose and making the cards - and things to buy, like almost everything bar my Mum's pressie which I got back in September and is currently gathering dust in the bottom of my wardrobe.
And then 'The Wizard of Oz' was on telly yesterday afternoon, which is one of my favourite films from childhood. Followed by 'The Aristocats', so no writing got done after lunch, other than a few Sudokus and Crosswords during the commercial breaks. All this time, Andy was drawing the designs for our Christmas cards and scanning them onto computer for the adding of colour and the printing onto shiny photographic paper thereof. The designs are very good and I am thrilled with them all, especially the 'God Nest Ye Merry, Gentle Hens, ' and 'Good Queen Henselas,' which I think might be the two final selections to actually send to people. So sometime in the next week or two, I need to finish the final cards, with Andy's drawings as the central feature, and some Christmas tat by me in the form of ribbons and stars and stuff around the edges.
And talking of hens (now there's a rare thing in this blog!), all three girls have survived the pops and bangs of Bonfire Night, with little more than a couple of days of wrinkly eggs to show the effect of them being startled by the experience. Poor things. A good case for campaigning for silent fireworks, I think.
Back to writing 'Poulet Nous,' now. I hope you are enjoying the read so far, those who are coming along for the ride with me. I am enjoying writing it, so might just have a copy printed at the end of the whole malarkey for my own entertainment and to remind myself that I have made someone laugh with my writing, even if that someone was only me!
The thing is, I got distracted with Christmas this weekend, which, in my defence, is late for me, who usually has it all sussed by the end of October and is shouting 'Bring it on, Santa.' But then I realised yesterday that I haven't even got my Advent Candle yet, and Advent starts in barely three week's time. So then I got distracted into making Christmas lists - things to do like ordering the goose and making the cards - and things to buy, like almost everything bar my Mum's pressie which I got back in September and is currently gathering dust in the bottom of my wardrobe.
And then 'The Wizard of Oz' was on telly yesterday afternoon, which is one of my favourite films from childhood. Followed by 'The Aristocats', so no writing got done after lunch, other than a few Sudokus and Crosswords during the commercial breaks. All this time, Andy was drawing the designs for our Christmas cards and scanning them onto computer for the adding of colour and the printing onto shiny photographic paper thereof. The designs are very good and I am thrilled with them all, especially the 'God Nest Ye Merry, Gentle Hens, ' and 'Good Queen Henselas,' which I think might be the two final selections to actually send to people. So sometime in the next week or two, I need to finish the final cards, with Andy's drawings as the central feature, and some Christmas tat by me in the form of ribbons and stars and stuff around the edges.
And talking of hens (now there's a rare thing in this blog!), all three girls have survived the pops and bangs of Bonfire Night, with little more than a couple of days of wrinkly eggs to show the effect of them being startled by the experience. Poor things. A good case for campaigning for silent fireworks, I think.
Back to writing 'Poulet Nous,' now. I hope you are enjoying the read so far, those who are coming along for the ride with me. I am enjoying writing it, so might just have a copy printed at the end of the whole malarkey for my own entertainment and to remind myself that I have made someone laugh with my writing, even if that someone was only me!
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