Poor old Dettol have been criticised for claiming that there are more germs on a chopping board than on a toilet seat (article here).
As someone who takes food hygeine very seriously (I have a certificate and everything) I had acted on this advice and had taken the obvious precaution of chopping my vegetables and rolling my pastry on the toilet seat. Now what do I do?
Sorry. I forgot to tell you that we finished the potato harvest at the weekend. Average yield 17 tonnes of ware per acre. Our three best fields have gone into cold storage. Five fields have been sold for prepacking and there is one field left in an ambient store here which will be sold next month.
I have written here before about annoying bleeps in tractors. I spent two hours in a Case MXU today. It started bleeping. I stopped the engine. I checked all the oil levels. I read the service manual. Nothing was wrong. It kept beeping.
It's only 3 years old. It's done 2000 hours. Until the John Deere arrived this year, we had been loyal Case users for a decade. This MXU is the reason that we tried something else. It is a collection of niggling faults. The man who assembled it should be punished in a medieval fashion. I suggest he is chained to a lampost on Basildon high street in a John Deere T shirt, with his trousers and pants around his ankles while wearing a walkman with the Case "beep" playing on a continuous loop.
Thanks to Steve Fairchild, the author of the nontropolis blog. He sent me a load of squirrel pictures during the War of the Blogs.
They were all equally awful although this one seemed particularly unacceptable.
I thought that I would put it up anyway, both as a peace offering to Tim and as a gift to any Field Day readers who are still with us (we know how this mawkish stuff appeals to you all).
This does not count as the soppy picture that we will be forced to print if Tim has won the battle of the blogs. I believe he has a picture of a hamster in a leotard and tutu lined up for that particular (and unlikely) eventuality.
My sister, Kelly, was ridiculing my pathetic impersonation of an Irish accent the other day. She said that it sounded nothing like an Irish accent and was a bit racist.
I said that she couldn't have it both ways. If it was a bit racist then it must have been slightly recognisable as Irish.
But it all set me wondering. What if you were a child born in Ireland who was unable to do an Irish accent?
Well. It's the big Farmers Weekly Awards at the end of the month in London. The invitation arrived this week to my Dad and me.
Well I assume it's for my Dad and me although the actual invitation says to Matthew and Neve Naylor. Now my dad's name is Nev, not Neve. Neve is a woman's name whereas my Dad happens to be male. I have mentioned this a couple of times to the Farmers Weekly but they obviously think that I am being unreasonable - they have decided that his name is Neve and that's that.
So we have a problem. It would almost certainly be less embarrassing for everyone if Dad rolled along with this and dressed as a woman for the evening. He has a beard, I know, but so do some women in Lincolnshire and this is a farmers event after all. I'm not sure how this will all play out.
My sister thinks I am useless at sorting problems like this out. She would tell me to just ring them up and ask them to change the name rather than writing about it in a blog. She said this last year when we caught potato blight from our organic neighbour and I wrote a poem about it. "Shouldn't you just ring him up rather than writing a poem?" she asked.
Anyway the Awards will also mark the end of our contest with Catchat. Every new reader on this blog counts so tell your mates to start reading this if you don't want the Catman sticking one of his gruesome and soppy pictures here.
Nice to see Terry Wogan doing his bit for National Sausage Week too
A man (or woman, we live in liberated times) goes into a butchers.
"Can I have 8 legs of venison please?"
"Certainly, that will be £76 please"
"£76? For 8 legs of venison? That's two dear"
Thankfully there is now a photo of Tim Relf on the Catchat blog. I haven't noticed this before. This is an excellent development which should turn his readers away in their thousands (possibly all FOUR bloody THOUSAND of them).
Providing the FW don't put one of the dreadful photos of me from their (enormous and growing) collection of dreadful photos of me until at least the end of the month, then I should be able to hang on to you all and that prize is in the bag.
I believe that it's national sausage week. I am not in the habit of promoting this sort of cynical publicity stunt as a rule but as you know I do like sausages. This is the one area of solidarity between us and Catchat.
You may remember from an earlier entry (this one) that I am going to be making my own flavour of sausages soon. Stuart has been stockpiling the cow's lips and pig's bumholes ready. At the moment it looks as though it is going to involve lamb and mint but I am still open to your suggestions.
Anyway. After the inch of rain on Tuesday night we were unable to harvest potatoes yesterday and so I managed to sneak away from work early to catch up with a few jobs on the new house (I have got loads to tell you about that when I get time). There is loads to do on the house but my most pressing problems concerned the kitchen...
After my reamrks about the Dutch Dress Sense (or lack thereof), our correspondant in the city, Matty K, left the following comment There was an article in the paper yesterday saying that the latest in Dutch fashions is the Royal Mail jackets (complete with the logos), they like the orange top apparently as it goes with their national colours. What the article told us was that a market trader in Amsterdam is getting a huge supply of these things and flogging to the Cloggys for 15 euros each.. but what it didn't say was where he was getting them from - perhaps the striking posties here are selling them on and telling their bosses they have been burning them at the sorting office gates?
But selling them on for less than a tenner? No wonder the Post Office can't make any money with such a dearth of entrepreneurial spirit. Matty - perhaps you could put out a survey via the blog to see whose postie has 'lost' their jacket..
Click here to read the story in the Metro. More than anything I was facinated to see which paper MattyK reads. This sort of thing fascinates me. If I have a free five minutes in a town, one of my favourite games is to stand outside a newsagent, watching the punters go in and guessing which newspaper they will buy. Ideally I will be wearing a brown anorak when I play this game.
You see? I am a normal person with an interesting life, why aren't more people interested in reading about it, I wonder?
In a recent comment, Mopsa said the pictures on this blog are not as good as the pictures on Catchat. Clearly she is not a John Deere fan. So for her benefit here is a photo of our harvester and two, that's right count them, two Case tractors. If that doesn't tickle her fancy then I don't know what on earth would.
In a recent Catchat entry, La Relf gave a link to a picture of a tiny pig drinking a cup of tea. Even for a blog which normally operates outsides the realm of normality this is a new low. Some of the animal stuff on that blog redefines the term "totally weird" and not in a good way, in a bad and wrong way. Baby pigs should not drink massive cups of tea.
Right potato data for you...
And another thing.
I forgot to tell you that when I got back into the port at Hull the customs guy gave me (and every other driver for that matter) a little interview to see where I had been and where I was going. It was all very conversational though.
I am not opposed to border checks. In a country as committed to international trade as we are, we need to be sure that we haven't got diseases or problems coming in. Personally I don't get too hung up about economic migrants coming in but it's nice to know who's here.
When you travel into New Zealand they take biosecurity very, very seriously indeed. You have to throw away any food and they x-ray your bags as you enter the country. I just told their customs officials that I was a marketing director the last time I visited New Zealand - I was worried that if I told them I was a farmer they might strip me down to my bra and knickers and spray me with Jeyes fluid.
The weird thing about our customs check was that he didn't ask me anything that could have possibly been of any use to him or our national interest. I have no objection to these checks but if they are not done thoroughly enough then they are just a waste of time. I wondered if I should tell him this but them I thought that he might give me a full cavity search in front of all the terrorists, illegal immigrants and rabies sufferers driving past just to make an example of me.
I forgot to tell you about my quick trip to the Netherlands last week. I popped over for a horticultural exhibition in Amsterdam. I took the car over by ferry from Hull because I am trying not to fly at all this year (carbon footprint and all). It is quite a cool overnight crossing. I had a beer in the piano bar and finished the book I was reading on the way out.
The flower industry is as much about fashion as it is about farming so it is important to keep your eyes peeled for new trends. However it is quite ironic to be looking for style tips in Holland; some of the young people there have the naffest dress sense in the world (after Australia of course). RED SHOES, what's that about? And don't get me started about their hairstyles.
Anyway. A short but productive trip; I have got a few ideas for next year. For the farm, at least, if not for my wardrobe.
I'm not sure if I will ever be welcome in Edenham again. I gave a talk to their Farmers Discussion Group last Wednesday. It didn't go brilliantly.
I don't have a lot of luck speaking to local Farmers' Discussion Groups. The average age of these groups is always between sixty five and eighty. Everyone has grey hair, well, almost everyone - you get the occasional one who prefers to be bald. I have spoken to three Farm Discussion Groups just recently. Two people in the front row fell asleep at the first one and at the second one - just as I got to the dramatic and hilarious punchline to the only joke that I know - a man vomitted and collapsed and an ambulance had to be called for. He was fine but I died on my arse. I considered asking the paramedics to try to revive the joke while they were there using one of their electric shock things on its chest. CLEAR. Booom. "I'm sorry Matthew, we did all we could but we were just too late."
Third time lucky was going through my head last week as I sat at the front next to the Chairman at Edenhamwaiting for my introduction.
He opened by announcing the death of one of the members who founded the Group in 1944. I could tell from the gasps from the audience that he was a really well-loved and respected chap and that they were genuinely shocked and saddened. We then stood and had a minute's silence. It was an appropriately sombre minute.
Standing and facing a large, bereaved group in silence for a minute is hardly the best preparation for a speaker. It doesn't exactly fill you with vim and excitement or put your head in a happy place.
After the silence the Chairman quickly said "Thank you, now I would like to introduce Matthew Naylor who is going to give a light-hearted talk about his farm." Like I have told you, I only know one joke and it includes the phrase "Wild Sex." I couldn't bring myself to tell that.
I gave up on any hope of making them laugh and decided to be provocative instead and get a debate going. So I told them why I really like the idea of inheritance tax on farmland which really fired everyone up. We had quite a passionate debate, them versus me, but it all remained pretty civilised. It was all in the original spirit of Farm Discussion Groups. Too often they meet up and all agree with one another, blaming their woes on the same things. I love to stir things up and challenge people's ideas.
In the vote of thanks I was called "a controversial young man" which I kind of liked although I probably didn't do much to swell the membership of the Edenham Branch of the Matthew Naylor Fan Club
"This lack of entries is no way to win a ratings war," I hear you say. "Where are the pithy comments, the amusing stories and the gripping potato statistics? Tim Relf will be having a field day in your absence (did you like my pun there)"
Well, loyal readers (I'm addressing both of you here), I have a plan. I haven't just been sitting on a tractor carting potatoes for a whole week.
"Yes you have."
No, well yes but I haven't JUST been sitting on a tractor carting potatoes for a whole week. I've been a plottin' and a schemin', thinkin' of ways to improve the blog. I've been like Fidel Castro hiding in the Cuban forest and waiting for the right moment to start my revolution.
I've also been a bit like Bin Laden in the Tora Bora caves but that's not intentional. That one is just an unfortunate coincidence. I want to be like Fidel - that's more cool.
I'm back from the Netherlands to resume the contest with Catfink. I will write a bit about my travels at the weekend.
I'm have concluded that the reason that I'm not getting as many readers as Tim is that I'm just not giving you enough potato statistics. So here are a few more.
Field 3 averaged 17.09 tonnes of saleable potatoes to the acre. Field 4 was the worst so far at 14.54. We had to stop harvesting the Nicola in field 5 because of the inch of rain on Tuesday and have started using the Standen Vision (with the RS cleaner) in field 6. The yield here is appalling; it was the field that suffered the most from the summer's rain. I will be amazed if it yields over 10 tonnes to the acre and I won't be suprised if it as low as 7 or 8 tonnes. Progress was very slow and difficult today, everywhere is looking messy and I feel completely knackered. More moaning tomorrow, that should help to hang on to all the new readers.
Thank goodness that there's not going to be a general election. The country has got quite enough to worry about with the battle of the blogs.
As part of my electioneering, I am campaigning for the green vote today. Here's a picture of my John Deere tractor. It's as unfluffy as it gets. Enjoy!
I am now happily installed in Windsor House. They say that moving house is the third most stressful thing that can happen to a person after bereavement and finding out that Tim Relf is more popular than you are.
Normal service resumes - I promise that there will be no more entries on the subject of moving house. Hopefully I will have time to start reading a newspaper and watching television again - I notice that the blog entries have become a bit introspective of late. In the winter I show a bit more interest in the rest of the world.
With everything going on, it is very fortunate that the weather has been perfect for farming. We are making much better progress that we have any right to expect. We are now in our fourth field of potatoes which is Nicola, a salad variety. You will have to be patient, Tim - I haven't got any yield data on that one yet.
Last night I went to the MacFarmers Ball in Boston, (the Mac stands for Macmillan and not McDonalds - I'm not putting a link for that one on here). The house move (see, I told you I wouldn't mention it again) means that my clothes are spread all the county. I couldn't find my best dinner suit (I have three for some reason, I'm like Bertie Wooster) or a pair of black shoes. I had to borrow a pair of my dad's which were two sizes too big for me. For me there's nothing better than getting dressed up in some oversized shoes and blundering about at a ball with two pints inside me - I looked like a contestant on It's a Knockout.
The shoe thing meant there was no dance floor odyssey last night - I stopped a the bar talking about potatoes instead.
I'm giving a talk to a farmers meeting on Wednesday night and I usually totally humiliate myself when I do that so that should have some blog material in it. But first I'm heading to Holland tomorrow so hopefully there will be news from that too. If your really lucky I might be able to photograph a kitten in a pair of clogs eating some edam; that would really get the reader figures racing.
You realise that just by reading this you are joining Naylor's army. We are on a crusade to capture readers. Not particularly loads of readers, just more than Tim Relf gets on his Field Day blog or "CatChat" as I now intend to call it (please, whatever you do, do not click that link)
I thought that I was happy for this blog to be a hidden gem in FWi's crown - to be a bit like the John Peel of the farming world. But seeing those reader figures for "CatChat" changed my mind. Four. Times. More. Tim must have an enormous family. Has he trained his cats to use a laptop or something?
So I'm afraid until next month's figures are released, you've got to choose. You can't read this blog and "CatChat" (I repeat please, under no circumstances should you click that link)
If you do find yourself on "CatChat", obviously by some horrible mistake, then the only way that you can make good and regain your credibility is to read this blog three extra times and on a different computer each time.
So let's lay down the ground rules for the contest. By the end of the month the person with the greatest increase in readers will be deemed the champion. To show you how confident I am about our victory, if I lose I will be quite prepared to allow Tim to stick the most mawkish picture of an animal doing a human thing on this site. Regular readers will know the pain that this would cause me (don't worry, it's not going to happen) If, however, we win, then I suggest that Tim be banned from using a photo of an animal on "CatChat" for 7, that's right count them, seven days.
Good Luck, Cat Man
I just nipped into the office after dinner to grab some papers and while I was across here my mate, Lins, called me on my mobile to ask if I had ever looked at our farm website. I hadn't realised how appalling it was.
This is why I am still in the office at 10.50pm. I have just taught myself to make a website and given it a revamp. It's still a bit pants as websites go but I'm pretty pleased with myself. How many webpage designers could do my job with no training? (Hang on, that's a point. No one trained me to be a farmer either.)
Obviously the website will be riddled with spelling mistakes that I have been too tired to spot and I will be in a foul mood tomorrow because I didn't go to bed early enough but hey ho.
Check it out www.naylorflowers.co.uk
Steve Fairchild came up with an excellent suggestion to introduce more readers. Hopefully this title will get me a bit of traffic from the search engines.
I can hear the rumblings of a contest to get the most read blog on this site. Now look, if I have to sink to tricking pervs and sleazeballs here with fictional saucy blog titles just so that I can outdo Tim Relf then so be it. He might have support from the nice people, the people who love animals (and almost love them a bit too much) but I am sure that there is a cult following out there for me too. We know from the Daily Mail that most of the people who use the internet are dysfunctional weirdos with strange desires. If I can just tap into this somehow to build up a cult I could whip the other blogs asses.
Maybe I could take a photo of my cult and put it on here. It might get me a few more weirdos with poor keyboard skills.
You will notice that I have actually made the effort to come up with a punny title ("Huh, puny, more like" - how dare you) because today's entry is about our new coldroom.
We have just got started on the flower packhouse refurbishment and there is going to be a 300 tonne coldroom at one end. The photos were taken seconds ago - we are almost talking webcam action here.
We are aiming to have it all finished by the end of the year. I know it's boring for you but try to look interested.
So. As if the potato data from the other day wasn't boring enough, now I'm going to test your tolerance even more with an entry of statistics about this blog.
Last month this blog received
1,666 Pageviews
1,033 Unique Views
What do you mean "That's totally pathetic"? This might not sound very impressive to you but to put it a another way
I was just cruising along the A17 with another load of potatoes and looked in my side mirror to see that I was being overtaken by a house. It was actually a large mobile home (with pitched roof and everything) on the back of a lorry. It was rather wide and slightly terrified the life out of me. It was like that scene at the start of the Wizard of Oz.
Talking of house moves (did you like that smooth link, were you impressed?), I should be exchanging contracts on my new house today and moving in on Friday. Yay.
Hiya. Not too much to report today but I thought it was only polite to say hello.
We are now well into the third field of potatoes. Potato data to follow for those that are interested. This may be a bit boring for the non potato nerds. Please ask questions if you need to The first field, V5, yielded...
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