Roasted New Potatoes With A Sprinkle Of Paprika.

"Why does the sun go  on shining.  Why are new potatoes ready when we want summer snacks dining.  Its the end of the...."

Skeeter  Davis might have sung the above if she grew new potatoes or had a veg plot or allotment.

It's  always the case that the new potatoes are ready when it is summer time.  When you say things like: "Is it hot or is it me?"

Don't get me wrong I love homegrown vegetables, especially my own new potatoes.  But  sometimes I like to see if we can come up with something a bit different. 

So I had a look on the BBC Food site on the old T'web and Tinternet and found a recipe for roasted new potatoes with a sprinkle of Paprika.

So I  boiled 12 to 16 potatoes for ten minutes.  Then I tried to squash them with the potato masher.  The potatoes were still rock hard.  I was asked:

"Did you bring them to the boil?"

"Course not.  I just left them cook for ten minutes".

"Tut".

The one who must be obeyed boiled them at an higher heat, took over cooking, squashed them and painted olive oil (Popeye's girlfriend) and sprinkled Paprika over them and roasted them on a baking tray.  Here they are:

They tasted OK.  I was also told the recipe was for four people not the two of us!

I did it wrong again!

Have you any new potatoes recipes?

Here's  Skeeter singing the classic:

The Polytunnel Flickers Have Been Eating One Of My New Potatoes.

I have seen the future:  Potato Polo mints.

We( me) lifted the last of the spudatoes from the polytunnel yesterday.  Not a bad crop and wifey noticed one of them had an hole in it.  On closer inspection we discovered the culprit had scoffed the inside of the potato.

Now I am the kind of fellow that would share my cigs or even my beer but not my potatoes to a wire worm.

Hope they are wireworm? Metal or iron  worm would eat the polytunnel tubing wouldn't they?

Apparently they drill the holes and the slugs take over.  I have found no sign of the wireworm and they usually live in old pasture or grassland.  My veg plot was once a pasture and we have grassy areas in the veg plot.    An organic way of controlling wireworm is to sow mustard because wireworm don't  like it.  

That's gardening.  One welly boot forwards and one welly boot backwards!

"I Always Meet My Mates When I GoTo Glastonbury".

Another one of my Glastonbury music festival stories, yawn!

I decided to go for a saunter down to the front of the Pyramid stage with a can of bitter in my hand.  A mud encrusted new age traveller accosted me and said:

"Hiya.  I always met my mates when I go to Glastonbury".

It was like when you're in a pub and somebody comes up to you with a pint in their hand and says: " Hiya Dave I haven't seen you for ages".  You have no idea who they are and they carry on talking about people who you have not yet had to pleasure to meet.  Been there, got the T shirt?

Any road.  My old pal who I had never met before looked like he had never had a bath for donkeys years and he says in a Cockney accent: "Give us a neck of yer beer mate".

Reluctantly I gave him a sip or swig of my grog.   He spat out some of it and said:

"F*cking hell it's warm beer innit."

Then he passed it back to me and walked away into the biblical multitudes.

I thought to myself  with much sarcasm whilst throwing the can into a dustbin:

"If I knew I was meeting one of my old mates.  I would have chilled my beer first".

Planting A Hypericum Hedge In June.

I was bored this morning so I cleared some weeds and planted some Hypericum shrubs I grew from cuttings last year.

 New Hypericum hedge.  This cost me nothing, just my time and energy.

 You can see the Cotoneasters on the right that I planted to cover the septic tank a few months ago.  It's doing very well.

This is what the hedge will look like next year, hopefully?

I have a rule now that I only plant things that flower and attract the bees and butterflies.

A West country woman once said to me if you plant Hypericum witches will never walk into your garden.  Don't  know if it's true but it's a lovely shrub.

A Glastonbury Festival Tale.

It should have been Glastonbury music festival this weekend.  Taylor Swift should of been strutting her stuff on the Pyramid stage.  But like most things this year.  It's been called off. 

At least you can watch some highlights of previous concerts on the old electric fishtank tonight.

My mates and me went there way back in 1989.  Twenty eight Pounds for a weekend ticket and the sun never stopped shining.  It was like living in a giant canvas city.

I walked down into the area where you could get a glass of Scrumpy for your breakfast  for about a Pound and a paper tray full of chicken and rice covered in blue bottles for five Pounds.  We decided to have a pint of Scrumpy each.  Well it was eight forty five on a Saturday morning after all.

There was a Rastafarian gentlemen shouting: "Rocky, Rocky".  I thought he was calling his dog.  Then I realised he was selling Moroccan or Pot.  There he was acting like your Asian market trader shouting: " Ladies knickers.  One ninety nine". 

It was a great weekend and the highlight for me was seeing All About Eve. 

Here they are at Glastonbury 1989.  I know because I was there.  That's  my Max Boyce impression.

Have you any festival tales?

Friendly Northerner.

I found the following video on good old You Tube recently.

It made me think of when I was on the Tube and trains at rush hour.  Nobody speaks and they just look or pretend to view their mobile phone or read the newspaper.  I have been to airports on my own and no body spoke to me for two hours at the airport or three hours on the plane.

I am a bit backwards coming forward but if you speak to me I won't shut up.  I would talk to a scarecrow if it talked to me.

Yesterday I went on a eight mile walk and had three conversations.  That is very rare living in the countryside next to the sea.  When I use to smoke (I also sweat a lot) people often asked me for a light and then we would start talking.

I suppose that what blogs are.  Written conversations.

Any road here's the video:


The second episode of Tess of the Durbevilles is on BBC four tonight folks!

Visiting A Beach And Film Location.

Here's some pics of Inch beach in County Kerry.  It's a beautiful beach and was used for several scenes in the David Lean filum Ryan's Daughter.  It's  free to park one's car and you can even hire a surf board and a wet suit for five Euros  a hour.  There's even a pub/restaurant when it opens again.   You could even stop at one of the Lidl stores in Tralee and get the ingredients for a picnic?

One thing I love so much about Ireland is it's very small population.  It's never difficult to get away from the madding crowds.

Here's the same beach in 1970:

Any one for a dodgy American Oirish accent?