I had not cleaned the Shogun since last December and so just before Easter it must have been covered in about an acre of mud. Now as female readers will know, once a man gets hold of a pressure washer it is difficult to stop him, and so within minutes of finishing I was looking for something else to spray. The polytunnel hove into view and in moments it too was covered in a thick layer of foamy suds.
The tunnel is fourteen years old but amazingly the polythene is still flexible and clear. However every year algae forms on the skin which reduces light, and so to defeat this persistent critter I apply foam and then spray by holding the washer lance about a foot from the polythene and spray using an initial upwards stroke. This seems to work well and the surface is clear again in no time.
Our ground is sandy and so during winter months the dry soil in the tunnel acts as a natural clamp. This keeps the roots of beetroot and carrots cool and dry, and so it is easy on a cold wet January day to dig a few fresh root crops to adorn a plate of hot roast lamb.
Talking of tasty food reminds me that my late farming mentor Allun Evans taught me how to keep Ross Cobs, and that another friend who supplies retailers with roaster birds, lets me have a few to grow on for Christmas. Some neighbours also keep these birds and to-date our record weight for a cockerel (long leg) is 23lbs although the majority are between 12-14lbs on the table. The birds have a special diet which includes grapes, apples and milk and, because they are let onto grass every day, their texture and flavour is superior to anything in the shops. Although we are not allowed to sell our home reared birds to the public there is no reason why the public cannot grow and prepare their own.
It is not generally known that a supermarket roasting bird is usually killed at thirty days of age and has a diet limited to pellets containing antibiotics. This explains why its texture is like sponge rubber and any flavour has to be obtained from added herbs, spices and E numbers. It really is cheaper to grow your own and the meat is unbelievably better in taste and texture. In fact we feed a dozen guests from the breast alone and, because of the superior meat to bone ratio, we usually get around 28 meals including soup from one twelve lb bird.
However, growing your own food can have a down side. There are predatory foxes and badgers to consider and the heavier the bird the more its likelihood of heart failure. My advice is that when wattles and comb show a hint of purple, then ‘kill the bird before it dies’. On one occasion I was challenged by a startled listener to explain myself to which I replied, “That way you are sure of what it died from”.
The notion of eating more local food has got to be good as there are many knowledgeable gardeners, growers and farmers around here. So much so, that if the world went really mad, this benefice should at least feed itself and produce a surplus to Trade outside the area.
Over the years local people have always grown and traded food, and during the war here and elsewhere, as children we had special school breaks for harvesting and potato picking. Our pay for picking was to walk home with a bucket-full of King Edwards, however, for hay and straw, which in those days cropped at three to four feet, we sat on the horse-drawn wagon and our pay was a bottle of cider for mother.
Finally, mention of the trade in food and drink reminds me of Rebecca from Arizona who stopped by the roadside to pick up a very old Navajo woman. Not a word was uttered until the old lady spotted a paper bag by the seat. “What’s in it” she asked? Rebecca replied, “It’s the bottle of wine I got for my husband”.
For a long time the wise old Navajo woman was silent, and then in a quiet sisterly voice she said …………
“Well done …. Good Trade.”
View from the Pew 