Orton - From Lizards to Potatoes (2)

Orton's attempts at "spudiculture" - as he called it - had brought no success. The largest potato he'd been able to grow was no bigger than a pea, and he'd been lucky to find that in the soil.

His uncle Denzel couldn't provide any advice. "I'm more a maintenance rabbit than a grower, Orton," he said. "I can keep grass in good condition, get rid of weeds, cut back unruly branches... things like that. Allotment holders would know better. Maybe Perry Babblebrook at number 32, as he loves his garden."

When quizzed, Perry shook his head. "No lad. I don't grow veg. Flowers and shrubs are my thing. Nice foliage, colourful blooms, a bit of hard landscaping."

In the end it was Mookie Dappledawn who provided some useful information. Orton chatted with him on his way to his woodland home.

"Nairum beetles. That's your problem."

"What are they?" said Orton. "Garden pests?"

"The opposite, mainly," said Mookie. "They prey on the pests that attack green veg. That's why Merlin and Eliza grow such good cabbages, lettuces and cauliflowers. Them beetles don't like potatoes though. Oddly, they're fine with most other root crops. They won't eat carrots, swedes and so on but as soon as they find a potato starting to form, it's num, num, num."

"Do I need a different soil? Would that help?"

"It might, for a while, but there will be established nests of them beetles deep in the ground. They won't go too far from their nests but I reckon this whole garden is their territory. New soil won't stop 'em once they detect a potato plant."

"But they are really good for other plants?"

"You've tasted Eliza's lettuce soup? Great with cheese."

"I've seen other people grow potatoes - not too far away from here. Don't other gardens have nairum beetles?"

"Good question," said Mookie. "The thing is, nairum colonies aren't that numerous and they don't travel far. They find a good place and stick to it. They seem to like this garden. I think potatoes aren't the best thing to grow here at Butterglove House. Although you could try a big pot, well away from the earth."

"Hmm," said Orton. "Maybe. I think a trip to the library is in order."

Mookie laughed. "Book learnin', eh? Aye, you might find something out that old Mookie doesn't know."

o 0 O 0 o

Orton's upbringing with two master zoologists gave him a thirst for knowledge on all animals, even tiny voracious beetles. He read all he could find on the comparatively rare nairum variety.

Emerging from the library he realised he was almost late for tea, but it didn't matter too much. He had a plan.

Over the next few weeks he worked his tiny garden plot whenever he could. Brendan and Beverley would watch him as he tended his land.

"Potatoes?" said Brendan, "What's up with him?"

"He says he's battling beetles," said Beverley.

"Hardly Flash Gopher material. Still, do you think he wants some help?"

"I offered," Beverley said, "but he said no. Mind you, Russell wasn't helping, digging in the soil at the time."

"Let's leave him to it. I'm expecting Nolly and Hughie soon, anyway."

o 0 O 0 o

Orton's efforts were rewarded with a single green stem. Only one, but that was better than all his previous attempts.

When it came to the day of the uprooting, all of Butterglove House attended.

"I think you might be lucky," said Eliza, although we all knew that any success wasn't down to luck. Orton has been diligent, and he had informed us that his latest fertilizer mix was scientifically designed.

"There's something there," he said as he delved into the soil. "There's one... no, two... and that's it."

Two potatoes. But what potatoes! They were enormous.

 

"Congratulations, my boy," said Merlin rubbing the top of Orton's head. "I never expected to see a potato growing here."

Orton beamed. "It was all down to the fertilizer. It not only helps growth, it wards off nairum beetles."

"And what fertilizer did you use in the end? Not the concentrate from rotted comfrey?"

"No pappa. Diluted manure from Kimball's pet schismasaur."

Brendan scrunched up his face. "Lizard poop?"

Cecile laughed. "I think the potatoes will be washed, Brendan. No one is suggesting they be eaten fresh from the garden."

As the family dispersed, Beverley approached Orton.

"So, can we expect regular potato crops from you now?"

Orton considered his response. "No. I might grow something else. The main thing is that I've solved the potato mystery. I'll document my technique and submit it to the Allotment Society."

"Ooh, posh. You realise you've gone beyond zoology now? Botany, isn't it?"

"Maybe." He grinned as he went to fetch a container for his crop. "Do you think mummle or pappa will make us some chips?"

"Chips fresh from the garden? I think even Brendan would like that."

"Even those grown in lizard poop?"

Beverley laughed. "Even then."

o 0 O 0 o

Sylvania Provides

Part of this year's Mellowdene Day celebrations included a more formal gathering in the Village Hall. The speakers were Cliff Babblebrook, Verden Dappledawn, Howard Brighteyes and - representing the Buttergloves - my wife's cousin and engineer Coltsfoot Ivory. My twin Newton was engaged in some work thing, and as some scientific knowledge was required, Colt was a decent substitute.

 

The main gratitude theme concentrated upon the bounties given to us by the land we love. What Sylvania gives us. The Snow Queen was mentioned but only in passing. 

I have spoken of the Snow Queen in previous stories. Most Mellowdenians subscribe to the belief to various degrees. Our Melting Festival is proof of that. Some are comfortable that this supernatural being actually existed and sacrificed herself to create Sylvania. Some think of her as a kind of metaphor for the land, providing for the people in return for their respect of nature. Reverend Kelvin Waters is careful to be non-committal in his sermons yet he is supportive to each individual's interpretations.

Personally, I haven't decided. The existence of the mysterious mineral we call the Dreamstone has muddied the water. Irrespective of one's leanings, the Mellowdene Day focus reminded me that Sylvania does provide unusual bounties to make life easier for its people. And I'm not simply speaking of food, water and climate. I thought I would mention a few.

o 0 O 0 o

You may recall that we use a substance called coolsalt. Manufactured in the mountain plains by our friends the Polaris family, the product is a clever combination of minerals easily sourced up there. Blocks of coolsalt are the active components of our refrigerators, absorbing heat and reducing the surrounding temperature. A remarkable discovery, kind to the environment and even recyclable. I've discovered that there is technology that can slowly discharge heat from used coolsalt - ideal for keeping food warm. Hot or cold - Sylvania provides. (*see Hot and Cold - Jul 2021)

Some of our artificial lighting is based upon insect droppings! Applying pressure to sparkfly waste causes a distinctive glow. Efficiently processed, spark bulbs are a safe alternative to oil, gas and electric lighting. All produced by the Brooks-Underwood Spark Farm, founded by ancestors of the two families. (*see When the Sun Goes Down - Sep 2022)

I have also mentioned floaty-pods. If the large seeds of the lavender ash trees undergo a simple process, they become lighter than air. They are incredibly useful, providing lift when heavy objects have to be moved. Further, the inventive Cedric Walnut has been able to use floaty-pods within his flying machine - Skyrider. (*see Being Apart from Friends - Sep 2023)

DingleDale Worm Farm helps boost the production of textiles thanks to the unusual echo worms that the Dale and Dingle families rear. I still remember the wonder I felt when visiting the farm and hearing the singing worms! (*see A Neighbourly Yarn with Music Mar 2021)

All remarkable, but there are more examples. One I should mention relates to fuel, but there are others. This came to my mind after thinking about the Mellowdene Day speeches.  

Most fireplaces in Mellowdene homes no longer burn fuel that produces open flames. Although we are fortunate to have the Hornbeam House Safety Department and firefighting equipment - under the control of our fire chief Benjamin Underwood - the village has, in the main, cut down on fire risks by switching to an alternative heat source. 

This in no way minimises the respect and gratitude we have for Ben and his volunteer fire crew.

But back to fireglass.

We call it fireglass because it has the appearance of red glass. I don't know the specific details of its manufacture but we understand a key ingredient is a type of fungus that grows in shady conditions, the common name being ruby mushrooms. A local natural source is within one of the many small valleys at the foot of our neighbouring mountain range, although it is now grown in quantity elsewhere. We have a small manufacturing plant that processes it locally - the alliterative Fireglass Fuel Factory run by Reilly Hunter-Smyth and his family. 

The mushroom caps are red but the once picked the stalks become dark, charcoal coloured. The fireglass retains these colours, but the dark parts are not visible in our fireplaces. When those dark parts are submerged in a bath of salt water, the red parts radiate flameless heat. Fine control is achieved by varying the amount of fireglass that is submerged.

A number of vehicles have had their fuel systems altered to use fireglass. The garage associated with Mellowdene Van Hire offer this as part of their services. Murphy Van Dyke and his son Draven are very efficient in this task. Once converted, a periodic replacement of the fireglass (often at the annual vehicle service) is all that is required thereafter. Salt water as the actual fuel is very convenient for filling up! 

o 0 O 0 o

It never ceases to amaze me how these discoveries are made. Given the existence of the Sylvanian Research Group and the Owl Collective, it wouldn't surprise me if all sorts of substances are examined and processed in a variety of ways. I could ask Newton but I'm never sure how much he'd reveal about the scientific work done by the SRG.

It is clear that Sylvania provides. Whether it was by design by the Snow Queen, some purpose of these ubiquitous wild energies, or as a consequence of magic or luck - I cannot tell. But it certainly links with our Mellowdene Day. A reason to be grateful.

o 0 O 0 o

 

Collections

Darcy had called around and we were chatting after a cup of tea. Now that Cecile is involved with Darcy's blog (albeit in a minor way) our discussions are now unrestricted - which makes me happier. Darcy was quite enthusiastic in his news.  

"We've collected fifty thousand views, Cecile. Good, eh?"

"It does sound a lot. Does that mean fifty thousand humans have read the stories?"

 

"I doubt it. Actually, I hope not. That would imply that each human only looked at a single story the once then gave up." He laughed. "Ideally there will be a healthy proportion of returning readers."

"You'll be glad your project is working," I smiled.

"Our project," said Darcy. "It may have been my idea originally but we're all contributing. With Cecile on board we can widen our range of stories."

"Funny you should say that," said Cecile. "as you've given me an idea."

"Go on."

Cecile's mouth twitched. (It looked cute, but I'm biased.) "When you said 'collected' views, it made me think of 'collections'. There must be all sorts of collectors in Mellowdene. We could describe a few."

Darcy nodded slowly. "I have written about Sammy Stamp and Pete Petite regarding their stamp collecting, but you're right. There are many more." He smiled widely. "So I can leave you to look into that?"

I looked at Cecile. She nodded.

o 0 O 0 o

 

Afterwards, Cecile's first suggestion started with Beverley. "She has a dozen or so records now. Not just Dingle Boy and the Fibres from Baas. How many times has Biddie been round for an afternoon of Dingle Boy and Bark Molan?"

 

"True, but that's hardly..."

"Let me finish, love. It made me think about your visit with Elmer Timbertop and you mentioning his record collection."

She was right.  

Elmer has hundreds of vinyl and shellac records. He has a particular interest in old blues music and that was one the reason I'd been to see him. I wanted to analyse the style so that I'd be better placed to write my own tunes in that genre. I particularly remember being treated to songs by Croakin' Lime Leaper and Old Tad Paul. Apparently Bullfrog Blues is a standard but I liked the rarer Further on Down the Toad.

 

Collecting music is something I can well understand. My brother Merlin is, of course, a book fanatic. He would have a gigantic collection if he hadn't gravitated to becoming head librarian in our village. He probably considers the entire library part of his collection. I mentioned this.

"You're probably right about the library," acknowledged Cecile. "Can you imagine how it would be otherwise? I can visualise poor Eliza climbing over stacks of books." 

 

We laughed then tried to think of other collectors.

 

"Don't forget the oddities that Morwenna Deerheart gathers," Cecile commented.

"Proto-crystals?"

"Not just those. Gwin feathers, ancient stone sculptures, smelly herbs..."

 

"How do you know all that?"

"I think Mona Hazelnut mentioned it at..."

"Cake Club?"

"Ladies talk, Jack. It's called socialising."

"Not criticising, sweet wrinkle. It's interesting what you reveal, sometimes." 

"Only sometimes?" I could tell she was teasing me.

"Always riveting," I said, adopting an overly straight face. 

 

"Idiot. How about you? Can you think of any other unusual collections?" asked Cecile.

"Unusual? Not really. Although... There's Mookie and his cheese."

Mookie Dappledawn loves cheese. He's not the only one, of course. Wester Cornflower is an aficionado too. But Mookie is on a mission. He wants to try every single cheese in Sylvania. He keeps all the labels and has a little book in which he lists the cheeses he's eaten, those he wants to eat, with each having space for marking their separate attributes. He even writes a review of each variety he's tried.

Cecile smiled. "How could I forget that? Oat milk, almond milk, wulque tree milk and more. He once told me that he was aware of over fifty varieties that were made from lactolia milk alone."

"Fifty-six at last count, he told me. And eleven of those are made here in Mellowdene by Wensleydale Hector Norwood using milk from Buttercup Dairies. Mookie has given us the same spiel, clearly."  

Cecile licked her lips. "I fancy cheese for lunch. How about you?"

"Have we done?" 

"We've covered records, books, Morwenna's paraphernalia, cheese...," listed Cecile. "Won't that be enough for Darcy?"

 

 

She stood. Clearly she thought it was enough! I answered accordingly.

 

"Probably. I guess we can sort out the words later."

"Then that's settled. Let's collect a few ingredients and have a cheese salad."

Actually, that didn't sound too bad.

o 0 O 0 o