I have been known to swear in the presence of the M1 Garden Rotovator but after Reg gave it the overhaul last year and passed on his top tips I knew that the trick was to filter the petrol through a pair of Tracey Hammett’s tights.
It seems that our habit of churning the soil without the air filter in place has resulted in flecks of soil clogging the fuel in-let pipe. With two whole beds to turn over before we could plant the spuds I was fairly determined to get the motor running and happily strained the fuel through the hand me down tights.
Of course it didn’t work.
You can’t pull that flipping machine out of the shed without a full scale meltdown.
We got Reg on the phone who had Lynn set to with a hammer and screwdriver trying to extract the spark plug in order to scrape a pencil over its points???
Of course that didn’t work.
I went back to the old fashioned method of forking over the soil while Lynn continued off and on, to wrench her arm out of its socket trying to get the thing to spark.
I was within seconds of listing the rotovator on eBay mobile when Lynn managed to coax a satisfying splutter and roar. She delivered it to my potato bed with an almighty smug smile and happily announced that the petrol tank was empty.
It was not flipping empty! I’ve got photographic evidence of it going through Tracey’s tights. Unless they acted like a wick and absorbed all the fuel before it hit the tank.
Still, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Digging is hard work and I could have the beds ploughed in minutes if I could keep it ticking over.
Lynn cracked on with the potato planting while I retired to
play with a new gadget prepare a well earned cup of tea on the Valor 64C Petroleum Cooker!
My previous tea making gadget, the Kelly Kettle, was not that popular with her in doors. It usually caused a little friction on the plot as it took me an age to build up sufficient tinder to heat up a couple of mugs of tea and I think it was seen as an excuse for a sit down.
The Valor 64C didn’t fair much better though. I had a long mothers day chat with my mum, prepared labels for all my planned seed sowings and still the kettle was still only gently steaming. It wasn’t the only one steaming!
I blame the titchy kettle. When I tried the equipment out again to fry up a gammon steak and boil some freshly picked purple sprouting it worked a treat. It helped that I’d read the instructions as well I suppose, I hadn’t realised there was a high and low setting.
After such a good start to the day it was shame that we had to cut it short but with seeds un-sown and spuds yet to be planted we received a call from the cops to inform me that my beautiful Triumph Bonneville had been found on the common – trashed. Here starts a long wrangle with the insurers.