Tales from my handbag

…I was washing my dusters. Christmas makes me go a bit mental on the cleaning front. I’ve been down on my hands and knees washing my skirting boards and have even tackled that oft neglected rear of tap blind spot with a sprinkling of bicarbonate of soda and a squirt of lemon. Came up a treat. Carrying on the Biblical theme, I have also taken on the role of Good Samaritan, walking my neighbour’s dog, pulling another neighbour’s curtains twice daily to confuse burglars and even feeding the poor little sparrows with my left-over cheesy pasta bake. I am now quite au fait with dog shit and after a week of rather challenging curtain duties, have pinpointed the exact amount of ‘yank’ required to avoid pulling them off the rail completely. As to the sparrows, well, there aren’t any but I did get two really ugly crows fighting over a floret of broccoli.

Alleluia. The worst time of the year has passed and it was bearable. The highlights: I didn’t make anyone cry. That’s it. The rest is a blur. So here I am back in snowy Brighton trying to get back to normal. I’ve made my annual pilgrimage to Freak Street and the Marie Curie Emporium of Clothes that People have Died in. This year I was proud to donate a bag of lavender fragranced nicky nacky noos and assorted bath bombs. Nice if you’re 90 but I’m not. Thanks anyway. I have two New Year’s Resolutions: a. at the risk of encouraging rats, I will feed the birds in my garden. b. I will expand my vegetable repertoire to incorporate Pak Choi, broccoli and butternut squash . c. I will stop obsessing about expanding my vegetable repertoire. d. I will take inspiration from Harold Pinter’s passing to finish my play.  That’s it. Over and out.

As a woman, I am adept at multi-tasking. What I mean to say is that I can juggle but often I drop the ball, if you get my drift. Today, for example, I had the onerous task of dealing with a hairy carpet (am I the only person who moults like a dog?), rescuing my plants from obese snails, and repotting my prize agave plant - all at the same time. As usual, I was in a hurry so didn’t satisfactorily complete any of these tasks. I gave up with the hairs. Rather like the Forth Bridge, as soon as I’ve picked up one load, my head sheds another. You could stuff mattresses with my hair. I threw a few snails over the wall - oh what joy - but got bored - and tramped one’s intestines all over the hairy carpet, to boot! As for the agave, it’s in its new home but my arms have paid the price. I look like a mature self-harmer. Yes, I shouldn’t have done the job in a boob tube - but it was warm! Anyway, I digress. I wanted to talk about my broccoli. Having carefully nurtured it from seed on my window sill, the 6″ high plants are now in the ground, on the allotment. Already two of the poor blighters have been eaten. By what? Rabbits, birds, snails or mice? Can anyone tell me? I am at a loss. Thank you.  Â

I have a confession. I have been neglecting my allotment. I went up there for the first time in weeks, the other day, and, oh my, it is a sorry sight, what with the weeds an’ all. My purple sprouting broccoli has sprouted but not in the way it should have. It’s yellow, not purple. I believe it’s called ‘going to seed’. George, next door, said it might be the excessive rain. I rescued a few ‘heads’ that were the requisite colour but they were so small and piddling, I knew in my heart, they would be mocked if I were to serve them to one of my so called friends. Never mind, I tried. My leeks, however, are fine and I’ve had several leek meals. I went up today and planted my onions and three rows of carrots. While I was on my hands and knees, sprinkling my ‘Nantes Early 5′, Bob passed by in his car and laughed at me. Laughed! He wondered why I was bothering growing carrots when I could get them for 60p a bag at Sainsbury’s. I said, ‘Bob, you don’t know how many bags of carrots I eat in a week and anyway, I like organic carrots, which are rather more than 60p a bag’. That shut him up. Next, I’m sticking some broad beans in. I won’t bother with potatoes. To be honest, I found them a bit boring last year. I might, however, have another go with the broccoli (the regular kind). Please let me know if I have become a vegetable bore.Â