news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/8264572.stm

I had a dream last night which involved me driving a large car down a narrow lane with sheer cliffs and sheer drops alternating on both sides. It was raining and there were large puddles through which I careered. Various onlookers expressed open mouthed astonishment that I could negotiate such tricky terrain; but I had a destination in mind, though I had no clear idea what it was. At one point, as I drove through a deep mass of water, I hit a hidden pothole. The car reared up on end, I shot upwards, too, but somehow held onto the steering wheel (the car was open topped, with no seat belts) and was soon back in the driving seat, rampaging on. Eventually, I reached the end of the road, which was blocked by a large brick wall, beyond which I could see a river, and beyond that, a fabulous city. I debated how to cross this river, and was asking myself how I might commandeer a crane from the city to come and lift me and my car across, when I woke up.

The question that keeps troubling me is, who put the pothole where it was? It served no useful purpose, didn’t impede my progress, and was invisible. Either it was:

a. Already there, because I was driving on a road that existed, independently from me
b. Was created by me for an unknown purpose
c. Was created by me as a representation of some relatively minor hindrance in my life to come

My resident dream analyst suggests (c) is most likely, with (b) a close second. She finds (a) difficult to digest. I, on the other hand, firmly subscribe to (a), or a variant of it, finding both (b) and (c) rather flimsy.

It’s come to my attention that some photos I posted recently of an advanced case of fungal infection were thought to be actual images of my own feet. This was not, in fact, the case. I was exaggerating for effect. I’m attaching a genuine photo, so everyone can see the difference:

Perhaps Andy, the owner of those Nippon slip-ons, might like to consider a more robust, and, possibly, more comfortable form of footwear, for the coming season?

For those that are interested, our tomatoes have been more or less wiped out by a virulent attack of blight. Mind you, we had a fantastic crop of luscious fruit from the initial planting, but it was disappointing to see all the sideshoots (many from France) that I had potted on and trained into statuesque plants shrivelling up overnight into blackened stumps. I was puzzled that Mama’s two Marmandes and another small block of mine were less affected. I was also puzzled that Ernie’s crop just over the hedge remained unscathed. Then, reading about the genesis of blight, I learned that it lives on in the dead plants, and even survives composting. I recalled how in most of the polytunnel we had used composted cow manure, but on the patch my tomatoes were in, we had laboriously trundled in vast quantities of our own compost, and that that might well have been a veritable maelstrom of blight spores. One day last week, I left the polytunnel closed during a hot morning and, or so I theorise, a critical point may have been reached where the blight spores leapt into life, burst out of the soil and attacked their favourite host.

So, there we have it. Blight is definitely the scourge of the allotments again this year; and it appears the so called blight resistant varieties I was planning to grow next year, besides being tasteless, aren’t that effective. So, I’m ordering a case load of copper sulphate from Ebay, to make my own Burgundy mixture, and I’ve set a reminder on my phone to start spraying in June, and to spray every two weeks until September. I was too blase this year.

Mama’s been making a lot of fruit leather, including from tomatoes, during our brief glut. She basically simmers the fruit until it has reduced to stickiness, then spreads it out on a tray and dries it in the sun, to the consistency of ‘leather’. No sugar necessary. For those with fig trees yielding abundant fruit, who have a moment in their busy schedules, this might be worth doing. By all accounts, it’s a great way to conserve fruit.

The cigarettes I bought to boil up and spray on caterollars must have been lightweight because it didn’t work. Nor does my stock of Derris dust. I found this recipe online, which I’ll try next:

2 chillis
2 clove of garlic
add water and whizz with stick blender, or in blending machine; filter through kitchen roll into a sprayer, and top up with extra water.
Add a dash of washing up liquid, just in case greenfly are also around.
Spray on caterpillars.
Watch caterpillars writhe around and die.

100% organic. 100% effective.
use gloves though – as it is quite strong.