Wednesday, 12 January 2011

Cox's Orange Pippin

I look like one of those dudes with a prize fish!

Imagine my excitement when Parsley held up a small tree in a bag with the biggest cheesiest grin on her face, silently saying something behind the old double glazed. It could've been 'Ed, you're a complete dork and this tree is a symbol of how dorkish you are. Each branch represents a facet of your dorkishness. The bad hair, the dentistry, the complete lack of hygiene as you walk around in crap splattered clothes etc.' But no, she was saying Happy Birthday! Parsley and Cakeatonne had only gone and ordered me a Cox's Orange Pippin Tree, widely regarded as the finest dessert apple, with an unmatched aromatic complexity and depth and flavour which is also excellent for...**CIDER BLEND**.

Parsley, Weasel and I took a visit down to the allotment to plant it. It was another fine, crisp day. Conditions were perfect for tearing up the ground like a mole possessed, in order to plant a beautiful little apple tree. We now have the crabapple tree, the bright golden apple tree (someone please tell me what variety it is) and the COP. Took a while to find the right spot as a hump we had deemed suitable was in fact landfill. Fuming!

Dug a sizeable hole which was part filled with dung, then mixed with soil. On top of that went the shit water (according to Cakealot this is baby bio!). Wonderful stuff this, looks like Guinness, or port, smells like shit: hence shit water. You have to dispense with airs and graces when it comes to the allotment. Then threw some topsoil on. It should bear fruit this year so I'm told, which is mondo exciting.

Crud water = gold

Parsley, ever the task master, persuaded me to dig another hole for the second christmas tree. It was getting colder and I shredded my middle finger on an errant twig. Blame Sir Cakeatonne's fork. All that jousting has imbued it with magical powers and extra volition. So we went home. And yet again, I was dizzy with the fun we'd had. It's only January!

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A very naughty Smethwick was playing up yesterday, looking like he was going to attack the chickens, looking like he was going to attack me, attacking poor Winks, and his own tail. For shame Frank. Get yourself in order lad!

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