Sunday, October 10, 2010

O Is For Orange, For Optimist

Making my way along the sprays of home-grown carrots flopping about my vegetable plot like some sylvan faerie’s afro, I couldn’t help noticing The One Clearly The Size Of A Marrow.

Most of my carrots have been blessed in kind with the qualities of one or two ex-girlfriends: small, beautifully tapered, and positively devourable when peeled.

TOCTSOAM, however, looked more like a cork, inserted into the Earth’s crust to prevent subterranean horrors emerging and running amok.

I knew straight away I had a problem.

In my hand, barely a single boiling of the aforementioned diminutive veg plot regulars — yet my dinner table demanded four such offerings.

Sure, I could go without and transform this meagre portion into two for Son of Whirl and Girly of Whirly by bulking it up with hastily painted flumps of polystyrene packaging* — but that would leave my mother-in-law enraged and hungry for more than the usual dishing up of my head on a plate.

* I know. Some days I am a culinary Einstein.
Tugging on a carrot capable of messing up your back for life is a hard enough challenge, but when you add on the possibility of unleashing subterranean horrors, complete with total planetary prolapse should the root of the carrot be intertwined with some similarly humungous Antipodean eucalyptus — hey, this is nothing compared to receiving a scathing haven’t you heard of slug pellets, you dimwit? over a passed gravy boat and track three of Barry Manilow’s Greatest Hits.

So now I’m lumbering round the house like a hunchback, batting off winged gargoyles with a spatula and awaiting the inevitable rumble of doom on the driveway.

This may be my last post for some time.


Old Kitty said...

Put it back!!! Put it back!!!! I'm too young to die by your unleashing of the other dimension into here!!! Put it back!!!

take care (really!).

fairyhedgehog said...

Refraining from putting polystyrene in my cooking is about the limit of my culinary skills.

jjdebenedictis said...

Oh, get better soon! And death to your tuberous nemesis.

Whirlochre said...

Old Kitty
As it happens, the interdimensional suction worked the other way round and I'm happy to confirm that our end of the cosmos has lost a broken wheelbarrow, next door's cat and (oddly! thankfully!) Englebert Humperdinck.

Worked for Jamie Oliver.

Tasted great, in spite of the probvocation.

stacy said...

I can feel the rumblings of subterranean horrors all the way over here.