Divorce !

Well that got your attention didn’t it.


It’s that time of year again when everything seems to come all at once doesn’t it. I know I sound a bit ungrateful but I’ve got potatoes coming out of my ears, cabbages as big as footballs and enough peas to fill a swimming pool, not that I ever did that when I went swimming, disgusting behaviour.

The trouble is, in this season with this weather we don’t have that many ‘Hot Dinners’ as we call them, so it’s a struggle to use up vegetables from the plot. Meals are mainly salady type things or pizzas so I’m very thankful for the tomato crop in the green house, and the occasional curry uses some of the onions up, but the meat and two veg type meals just don’t appeal at the moment.

Last year we gave lots away to family and friends, but you knew they’d had enough when you heard the words, “Oh, another cabbage, thankyou so much”, and half expected it to hit you on the back of the head when you turned to walk away

Then we froze loads, eventually filling a second freezer that we’d invested in to bursting point and Mrs N made lots of cornish pasties that used up quite a bit, which also went in. She became so expert in the art of freezing, that I’m sure if we’re ever stuck for money, she could turn to cryogenics to make a living, if you’ll excuse the pun.

So the other day, it was time to turf out the vegetable freezer to clean it and prepare for this year’s onslaught and I was pleased to see most of the vegetables had been used up over the winter. Admittedly there were some left overs, for example a bag of experimental blanched potatoes that I don’t think we will bother with again, and some forgotten baby carrots that now resembled the mummified fingers of a venerated saint.

However, there were absolutely loads and loads of runner beans left over, and the sight of them appearing from the ice brought back vivid memories of last year. There I would be, returning with yet another carrier bag full, and that forlorn look would creep across her face as she saw me struggling up the drive with them. The neighbours were sick to death of them, we had frozen enough to supply Morrisons, and still they kept coming. What were we to do.

“Can’t we can get a few more in the freezer?”, I tentatively asked.

“What do you think it is, a bloody Tardis”, she replied, “The things full, and besides we’ll never use them in a million years”.

Well we would if it was a Tardis, I thought, you know time travel and all that, but thought it best to keep such flippancy to myself under the circumstances.

So here we were a year on, looking at all those runner beans, and Mrs N with a smug ‘I told you so’ look on her face.

Reluctant to throw them away, I suggested we could make a curry or soup with them, perhaps even brew some runner bean wine?

Her reply I’m afraid, is quite unprintable here, but included something about a divorce court if I bring as many home this year, and that bag of frozen beans could have done me quite a bit of damage if I hadn’t ducked in time.