I try to be organized with the labeling when I plant the seed potatoes. An old codger which I am now one once told me 'The eyes have it'. He didn't need to tell me a second time. My granddad used to say 'A wet bird never flies at night'. I didn't understand that either. It was with some very unparliamentary language that I dug up the not so tubby tubers (See picture ) watching a robin redbreast tuck in to the rapidly disappearing one way or the other in the wrong place at the wrong time worms.
I was expecting one or two maincrop bakers, 'Cara' but the robin's tune may not have been the only 'Melody' eminemanating from the potato patch, 'Charlotte'. My dad's favourite variety was 'Irish Blue'. I can't remember it being particularly tasty in my pasty but with its high resistance to blight and my dad coming from Cobh Co. Cork you can understand why it was his preferred variety.
If you look closely at the picture you can see a Blue Streak through some of the potatoes so they could be 'Rocket'.The seed company describes them as having a light blue touch which on paper makes me a chip off the old block.If you can't follow that, how am I supposed to convince you that a 15 pool ball had become wedged amongst the crop?
I spotted it while I was having a break.Though not destined for the pot it seemed to be free of wireworm and would go well with the cues I was growing in the greenhouse. It's a pity I'd hosed down the two score of potatoes before I took the photo as I could have put it on UTuber and not been out of pocket with the additional hits from all the potato heads to whom it would surely have appeeled with a knob of butter.
Next year I'll do exactly as it says on the tin quinze and try cooking one of Jamie Oliver's 15 minute meals with the results.
When I played cricket for Swanscombe and Greenhithe CC many moons ago, I represented the Cricket Club at a Main Club Committee meeting. It was during the winter. The meeting took place in one of the changing rooms which doubled up as a pool room. A large board placed on the pool table didn't quite make it a board meeting but with the best will in the world I was bored though I hoped I was giving the impression of passive interest.
I thought I'd chosen the safest seat with my back to the wall thus avoiding any pincer movement from the chairman and secretary from each end of the table when it came to the election of officers. As the agenda moved with excruciating sluggishness from item two to three out of twelve for some reason I pushed in the mechanism where the money goes for a game of pool. That familiar rumble of fifteen pool balls being released brought the direction of everyone's gaze towards my red face. 'Not boring you Mike?' said the treasurer whose 50p it was in the slot. It was game over for me.
I didn't go to another meeting. They didn't have a vote but I was blackballed.
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