Harvest Time Again.

Okay, Harvest Time again. I do so love this time of year, mainly because it feeds my Cave Woman desire to stack the store cupboard for lean times ahead. Not to forget some Nuclear Disaster that might or might not happen. You never can tell.

But Ten Massive Great Marrows? Even I have a problem with that. After all, there is a limit to how many Marrows you can stuff. And of course, I couldn’t say “No Thank You” as that would have offended. So what to do with them?

I can’t dump them in the Communal Bin because everyone uses that. And I can’t give them away because everybody else has already got too many anyway.
Any ideas beyond Stuffing and Jam will be gratefully received. We don’t actually eat Jam.

However, there is also a very big box of Cherry Tomatoes. I am working on what to do with those. And a bag full of little Mustard Packets. They will be okay because they will keep. Three very big Beetroots are also welcome as I like Beetroot, preferably uncontaminated by Vinegar. Also about a dozen eggs, left over from the recent Pardon, but I quite like those pickled.

The good news is that I managed to pass on a couple of jars of Apple Pickle from the vast store that I simply had to make last Autumn. I’m not sure if The French actually do Pickle. But I don’t really care. Sorry about that.

As it is there is a dearth of Apples this year, and Thank God for that. God obviously knows that I don’t need Apples at the moment. Can someone tell Him that I don’t need any more Marrows either?

The Chestnuts are looking good, so I am going to bottle a few of those, I hope. For a country that grows Chestnuts by the barrow load, they are very expensive to buy.

A quick tip. Cut a small slice in the outer casing and bring to the boil. They won’t be cooked, but the shell comes off much more easily, thereby avoiding bleeding thumb nails. Cook them later, and you can freeze them uncooked.

The rest of the nuts aren’t doing well at all.  Maybe next year. Oh, and forget the Apples and Marrows.

The Fosse Septique.

I have one such.  It is a Septic Tank.  And France, by the directives from Brussels do have to look into my Septic Tank.  Good one.  Not a real problem for me.  They did exactly that today.  They took the covers off.

And then my blind, demented and very old Pug fell into The Shit Tank because I wasn’t watching her.

I freaked and shrieked, very loudly.  And then I shrieked  some more.  Oh my God, oh my God.  My neighbour came round to help me because she heard me shrieking.

This poor little man  with his elbows in shit eventually managed to hoik her out before she actually drowned.  He won’t forget my house in a hurry.

Meanwhile, I was doubled over, and he told me to calm down.  He missed the point that I was nigh on hysterical with laughter by then.  Although I could quite easily have had a heart attack if I wasn’t as tough as I am.

Charlotte is okay.  Or I hope she is.  I doubt that she will remember.

All of Melrand now knows that my dog fell into the shit tank.  Such is life around here.

But I do have to say that this is the funniest thing that ever happened to me.