Two weeks ago I was standing proud as the onion seeds I had planted towards the end of February were starting to sprout and there were four rows of thin, very thin, green shoots to admire and the promise of more to come.
I went out this evening to have a look and there were hardly any of them left. Back in the Kitchen I looked out of the window and there was a fat bastard pigeon waddling on the veg patch poking around for some other seedling to pull up. It looked good enough to eat and there would be some appropriate come-uppance if having demolished my onions it should end up on my plate. It may be time to invest in something gun like to exact revenge.
So this evening I have lathered some out of date lamb from the supermarket with the remains of the Mojo Rojo sauce that has been maturing on the fridge for the last week. That has now been in a hot oven for just over an hour and we are about to eat it with a bottle of good red wine.
Listening to the new album by The Afghan Whigs. I think I may have blown the speakers which is just as well as the kids are telling me to turn it down.