Smokin’?

I fought off a whole bunch of sharp-elbowed pensioners at the annual 2 hour plant sale the LibDems do here in May, just to get my hands on Nicotiana seedlings. Can never find them anywhere else, but one geezer seems to bring ‘em on, and I love the aroma, having first had a whiff in 1992 from a green-thumbed neighbour.

The sale opens at 2pm, I got there at 1.30… having sussed out in previous years that the local geriatric gardening gangs barge in whenever they see an open fire door, and hoover up the best ganja stuff into voluminous bags. I was still nearly too late, only one small pack of Nicotiana remained on a far trestle table, and from behind I spotted a white-haired spritely figure weaving determinedly towards it. 

Throwing gallantry to the winds, and braving the wrath of a sea of foliage-festooned frond botherers, I charged against the one way arrangement in force, and clapped my paws on the plant tray, mere seconds ahead of my apparent opponent. A howl of frustration was emitted, and I turned around to see my old boss and friend Chris was my vanquished foe! (he admitted he’d seen them at my place before and fancied some himself. 

A beer settled things nicely, it usually does.

(By ‘eck, longest post I’ve ever written I think, I’m waiting for a delayed builder…)