Speaks, Shoots And Leaves
I was halfway along the M8, heading to the show at Ingliston, when I suddenly remembered I suffer from hay fever. Naturally I was somewhat choked and teary-eyed when I met up with Frieda Morrison who obviously thought I was being a wee bit over-emotional about the whole thing.
I was there, in the Beechgrove Marquee, for a special recording of out Potting Shed programme. After many months and hundred of miles on the road, Frieda was announcing the winners of our Budding Gardeners competition. There were some great tales of how schools and communities across Scotland had been encouraging children to learn more about gardening and the environment. One group of pupils is now growing fruit 'n' veg and selling it through the school tuck shop.
I made a short speech, the text of which had largely been supplied by Frieda herself. In fact, on the few points were I tried to ad lib a joke or two, I could see tumbleweed rolling through the audience. It must have blown there from a neighbouring stall.
The rest of the programme was a bit more lively. I'm always amazed at how blood-thirsty gardeners become when someone ask a question about insects or animals that threaten their plants. One lady from Fife told the panel that her organic allotment was being attacked by rabbits. The experts' solution ranged from "get a dog" through "build a higher/deeper fence" and finally there was talk of "rabbit hot-pot". One expert declared that the fight against rabbits was "a war...yes a war, not a battle, or a campaign, it's a war!"
For a moment I thought I was in a Munich beer hall in the 1930's.
After the cups and certificates had been presented, we all trooped in to the Floral Hall so that Frieda and the children could have a photo--opportunity with First Minister Jack McConnel. He gave me a very firm handshake and looked at me with a vague expression of recognition. This was surprising because I've never met him before. But I nodded cheerfully and was about to ask him why I hadn't been invited to the nosh-up at that morning (which we'd covered on Radio Scotland) when he was whisked away by his minders.
Then a jolly trip back to Glasgow. Fifteen minutes to get out of the car park, and an hour and a half to get through the roadworks on the M8.
Yup, it feels like summer already.
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