Getting old – a quandry of vegetable care

Posted: July 21, 2024 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I’m the sort of chap who has a great idea, tells people about, takes little-to-no action, allows a few years to pass by, and eventually wonders: “why didn’t I do that?”

You might know this sensation.

I wanted a vegetable patch in my garden – to grow my own, beat the system and enjoy fresh air, etc.

My wife and I had a slight disagreement on where such a patch would go – and it proceeded not to happen.

Later, friends told me they were growing their own veg. “How nice” I thought.

Later still, colleagues told me the same. “How nicer” I continued.

My brother then announced he was getting an allotment – the mark of someone who wants to grow vegetables so much that they do it in public.

Lastly, my wife told me she was starting a veg-patch wherever the hell she wanted in our garden.

Suddenly it seemed I was surrounded by home-growers of an idea I’d had years ago, and was feeling somewhat left behind and out of the veg-growing picture.

Other people my age are growing their own, enjoying the process and link to their land, and probably vegetables too.

I’m yet again behind, inspired to have an idea that becomes in-vogue in time, but not inspired enough to take action at the time.

Others are saving money, becoming in tune with the Earth and growing both themselves – and carrots.

What am I going to do? I’m such a loser – I didn’t even grow vegetables when I had the chance and and other people my age have so much going on, especially cabbage, and I really need to get my act together before………………………….oh wait it’s only growing vegetables.

Quite irrelevant really – when you want them to be. Still, I’m getting old.

I’ve had my efforts.

I tried growing a pineapple plant, which struggled until my dog snapped it in half – promptly ending the struggle.

I also grew tomatoes a few years ago – but that’s too easy. It’s like trying to grow a beard – effortless whether you succeed or not.

So, sure enough I do need to begin growing something, to remain a part of the pack – but it needs to have a edge to it. Just so I can feel slightly ahead of the curve for once, like I used to be.

Naturally I turned to sea-monkeys.

In place of the pineapple plant I was growing with my son, tiny crustaceans seemed like the next best bet/pet.

However – it turns out you can’t really rear and eat these minuscule specimens. You can drink them down in one, get a bad tummy ache and rear them back up again – but you can’t enjoy chewing them.

And they’re not very intimate a collection either – individually or as a herd. Carrots are better company.

We did name one though. On the theme of them being sea-faring monkeys, we named him: “Ooh Ooh ARGH!”

I think next I’ll try tomatoes, but grow them where no one would expect – like my brothers allotment. Watered with sea-monkeys.

That’d show them all.

That’d show everyone.

Sam

If not seizing the moment – at least go for a walk (Perfect Pub Walks with Bill Bailey).

Posted: March 17, 2024 | Author: | Filed under: Matters that Matter | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

First of all, walking and talking was my idea first.

Before The West Wing, before Adam Buxton’s podcast, before that other guy near LA who hikes into the hills with celebrities, there was me. Walking. And talking. Entirely to myself.

But this show – Perfect Pub Walks with Bill Bailey – does it very well indeed. Mental health, accessing nature, exercise, fresh air, sunlight, and perhaps being slightly ‘on camera‘ – this is how interviewing should be.

A discussion. With motion.

But I am worried about Paul Merton’s knees. I don’t often, because I don’t every really see them, since he’s been most regularly sat behind a panelist desk on HIGNFY for the past 3 decades. I saw them even less when he appeared on Just a Minute.

And I’m coming to realise, the comedy old guard that I grew up with; Merton, Bailey, and most importantly – etcetera – who I like to imagine is still youthing it about the place, is actually getting older to the point of being…old.

And nobody seems to be guarding any of them, least of all Merton’s clifftop knees.

I’m sure this has happened before, but my only frame of reference for this was when Matthew Corbet stepped back from the Sooty programmes. I was a child when that happened, and as an adult I saw Matthew return for a spot in a much later series and found he’d not only grown old, but I’d become an older person too – albiet one that still watched the Sooty Show.

Inclined to remedy this feeling, I did as I often do and gave my father a ring to get it off my chest.

Bad idea – as this only uncovered that he’s now in his 70s and at the stage in life, even in 2024, at which old people die purely on the grounds of being old. He’s not dying, but everyone would basically not complain too much if he suddenly did because it’s what’s supposed to happen.

This upsets me.

And this’ll be the same for many people. I’m in my mid-thirties, and as far as I’m concerned I’m going to live as long as I please – which is very much down to how good the customer service of life goes on to be.

If I’m not satisfied with your tone, I’m going to take my business elsewhere, thank you very much. This mortal coil never suited me anyway.

But I don’t expect to age myself, nor my heroes to age ahead of me, be that the comedy greats, or be that my dad.

That phone call, and this programme (about walking and talking, which – remember – was my idea originally) gave me a moment of realisation – I need to go for a walk.

With family. My wife. Dad.

My friends too – though they are fat, lazy, awful and won’t talk to me for some reason – and it’s mutual.

It was a good moment to have and I know I need to seize it.

Basically, these moments accumulate to suddenly becoming yesterday, and a fair few number of them amounted to ‘years ago‘ and the debt we owe for letting them slip-by can’t really be repaid.

So, I’m going to go for a walk with my father, and I’m sure I’ll tell you all about it. My Dad’s not a famous fellow, but he’s my fellow and I know he loves me very much. It’s nice to know that.

We can talk about the years of evenings we sat next to each other watching The West Wing, or laugh about the surreal satire Merton may have delivered on a most recent HIGNFY. Plus the latest developments on the Sooty Show.

I’ll give him the low-down as to my creation of walking and talking – which I really did invent.

I even created a phrase for it: “the walk and talk” but I forget why I called it that now.

Sam