"That Was The Week That Was"

 Last Saturday was my birthday and we hopped over to Weybridge in Surrey for Sunday Lunch: Well it felt like the following day when we got there. Travelling by car is not all it is cracked up to be.

Being an elder, I still go through the car journey preparation that we did 50 years ago when a trip to Southend risked a boiled over radiator or flat tyre as we queued on totally inadequate "A" roads. No air conditioning - just all windows wound down - such memories - as the car spluttered its way towards the coast. On this Saturday, I checked the tyres and filled the tank with diesel this time. A few years back I accidentally pumped petrol into the car. It staggered manfully to our street before conking out. A £100 later and the petrol was flushed out and replaced with the correct liquid.

I never open the bonnet from one annual service to the next. I know why. When I had my first car a 1952 Ford Anglia it leaked oil. My step father was regularly replacing what ever you replace to stop oil pouring onto the road. I don't know why but the effect on me was that I never checked the oil. As a result a trip to Stoke on Trent and Manchester taking uni friends home for the vacs ended at Stoke - the car refusing to go any further; its big ends had seized up through oil starvation. The trauma of that meant I blanked out anything to do with car engines. I now reassure myself that car engineering has moved on during the intervening half century and the car doesn't leak and in any case a little red light will tell me if I need worry.

On Saturday we left home at around 11 am to get to our friends for lunch at 1 pm. Nearly 2 hours on the M25 was pretty awful. Besides the motorway being filled with massive SUVs travelling at well in excess of the speed limit and lane manoeuvres which would have impressed Vin Diesel there were phantom road works which held us up for more than half an hour. We spent three hours with our friends and another three hours travelling back not using a motorway.

The next day we had friends around for a meat and wine fest. It went well, starting at 1:30 pm and finishing at 8 pm. A couple telling us the next day that they clearly remembered arriving but not leaving!

Monday, I'd double booked. I'd bought tickets for "Red" a play based on the life of the artist "Rothko"- except at the same time I was to be nominated to the Board of The London Society at its AGM. So I missed the play and was elected.

Tuesday evening saw me and others from Forest Poets at  Camden and Lumen Poetry. We were that evening's guest poets. It was a really impressive turn out by Walthamstow's wordsmiths and we each had 4 minutes to dazzle the audience. I read three poems - all of which were, I think, well received. They all rhymed which nowadays is unusual but I received some encouraging comments.

Wednesday and I was down at the allotments to let in the judges of our allotment association's annual plot competition. The weather has not been kind to our plots. You have to water everyday to ensure that your fruit and veg don't curl up and die. That's not a problem for a retiree like me; but many of our allotment holders are working and have families and once a week visit is all they can manage. That means long, straw coloured grass and rock hard soil, dried up fruits of their labour and vicious looking weeds.

Only 5 plots had entered from our allotment. The judge walked around, with his wife and the competition secretary, making notes on the cultivation, state of the plot and shed or greenhouse, and quality and quantity of the produce grown. A full plot is quite large and if fully cultivated can produce a mountain of greens, beans and potatoes etc. People are always complaining that they've grown far too much and have tried to palm off the surplus to neighbours and friends.

This year I will most certainly have a surplus of French beans, tomatoes and spinach beet. If the squirrels don't get them I'll be inundated with hazel and cobnuts. This year also, my two fig trees look as if they will shower me with their delicious fruit.

Unlike most of my fellow allotment holders I see little point in growing stuff I can buy. It's usually of excellent quality so what's the point in growing the stuff. I grow what I can't easily buy or is quite expensive. Nuts, figs, mulberries and medlars are on my allotment, along with gooseberries and blackcurrants. This year I'm growing physalis (Cape Gooseberry): the weather's perfect for this Peruvian relative of the tomato, potato and deadly nightshade.

I'm also trying Sicilian serpent squash - not necessarily to eat but because they are spectacular. Again this weather is perfect for them. All I have to do is ensure they drink enough.

Luckily the rest of the week was appointment free - next week is equally busy!