I dug up this specimen of Pink Fir Apple potato this evening. Believe it or not, that is a single spud in the photo. It weighed about a pound and a half. We’ve eaten it now. It was delicious.
I won a prize once at a local flower and produce show for the most amusingly-shaped vegetable. It was a large carrot with a three-forked root, two forks of which looked like legs crossed and the third which looked for all the world like a huge willy. I wish I’d taken a photo of it, dammit.
I just washed it with all the others in a jet from the hosepipe, cut it into chips and baked it in olive oil in a hot oven for half an hour. Nectar. Very agreeable with some real butcher’s sausages. I only peel spuds bought from the shop, unless they’re organic, which mine are.
Nah, it’s just an ancient super-cheapie Suzuki Folkmaster in G. The comb is red plastic. I keep it with me at all times, like a comfort blanket. You can’t do that with a sousaphone!
Proof positive that the alleged high levels of radiation emitted from radon gas in Cornwall are a complete crock. Isn’t that right, Mr Burns? Mr Burns?