Back in the day, those of old of us to know better would watch a madman on breakfast TV who would exhort us to jump about like a lunatic, in some kind of attempt to make us get fit, or at least to make us dunk biscuits in time to music. His name was (and still is) Derrick Evans, but you may remember him better as Mr Motivator.
Now we don’t have a Derrick, but we do have a Jamie, and this week he has been our very own Mr Rotavator. It’s the time of the season when all those lovely polytunnels, ignored over the long winter months, have to be prepared for the seasons chilli goodness. 
So on the hottest day of the year so far (impeccable timing being our specialty) Jamie attacked the tunnels with as much gusto as could be mustered with a hangover and 40-degree temperatures. And a fine job he made of it too, the soil was actually in great condition to turn over and the job – though hot work – was done in a day. Unfortunately that’s only the first part of the preparation work – beds still have to be dug – but it’s a start.
Now I don’t want you thinking that I just sat there laughing and pointing at Jamie struggling away, whilst all I did was take a few snapshots. I did help clear the rotavator blades of all sorts of string and garden wire that had become entangled – proof positive that all those years of clearing the vacuum cleaner of my daughters’ long hair was good practice for something.
Desperately attempting to flex
Look at that concentration
I’ll see you on the other side
Somewhere to park your bike, I guess
The plants themselves are coming on in leaps and bounds. Much discussion was going on between Jamie and his Dad regarding irrigation techniques, and if the weather holds up like it has done over the past few days that’s going to be a subject of continued debate. Even on a nice April day the tunnels were nudging upwards of 40 degrees Celsius – that’s enough to melt hobbits, I can tell you.
I found the Reapers this visit. They look…malevolent. There’s something about the way they were just lurking in the corner, sort of glaring at me in a knowing way…I definitely had the feeling that somewhen, somewhere, I’m going to feel the full force of their many, many Scovilles. I’m scared Ted.
Away from the Farm it’s been another busy weekend of trading. Between us we covered events in Milton Keynes, Nottingham, Marlborough, Frome, Chippenham and Swindon. The weather on Sunday especially was lovely, though I did have the rather surreal experience of having a stall next to the Pink Chilli Hobbit (a.k.a. my ex-wife Kerry for the uninitiated, running a stall for Hive Originals) – hence the photo below.
![1397379169369[1]](https://thechillihobbit.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/13973791693691.jpg)
Next weekend we’re all over the country again – Carlisle, Bristol, Nunney, Oxford, Sherston, Swindon, Thame and Newbury. It may not be world domination, but by ‘eck we’re giving it the real college try.
![20140412_145746[1]](https://thechillihobbit.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/20140412_1457461.jpg?w=212&h=379)
This is what chilli sauce does to you
I’d better have a word with his parents about what it says on the label…
And with that, fair reader, I will step away from the keyboard and go and watch Pointless. It’s not all beer and skittles, you know.
Have a good week!
TCH
Somewhere in the middle of that lot is a quiz night at the local cricket club, where I shall be attempting to answer such nuggets of trivia as ‘who played Mindy in Mork & Mindy‘ and ‘which famous TV show was almost called Owl Stretching Time’? This is the sort of rubbish that lodges in my head. Is it any wonder I never made it to the higher echelons of an IT career?
The Chilli Hobbit 