Shiver me timbers, it be the dreaded Blackleg… arrr…
Ahoy ye land lubbers. So tragic events be unfoldin’ here at Ye Olde English Towers. The potatoes they be dyin’ and there’s nowt that can be done about it. They be stricken’ with the dreaded Black Leg. Argghhhh
Okay, I can’t keep up the pirate speak. But basically my poor potato plants have started going yellow and wilting and an emergency call to the garden oracle, otherwise known as my Disreputable Dad, uncovered the tragic news that my poor tatties are suffering from Potato Blackleg, a bacterial disease that makes the potato stems rot, killing the foliage and ruining the crop:
Sadly, there’s no cure but to dig the buggers up. Apparently I bought infected seed potatoes (Damn you, Woodies!), but happily, not all have succumbed quite yet, and the ones that have died have been caught early enough to save most of the little babies beneath. Gutted. First wascally wabbits and now this. I’m just not cut out for the country life. I should have a high-rise apartment in Kensington or something, dahling.
So for the purposes of today’s post we be talkin’ like a pirate, yarrrrr. In fact, I designate today ‘English Mum’s Talk Like a Pirate Day’ (with apologies to the real Talk Like a Pirate Day, which is sometime in September), which means any comments shall be strictly of the pirate variety (and yes Moon that means you have to join in) else you’ll be walkin’ the plank, so ye will, ye lily-livered scallywags. Yarrrr.
23 Responses to “Shiver me timbers, it be the dreaded Blackleg… arrr…”
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The parrot on my shoulder would like to say;
“Who’s a pretty boy then?” to Bert
Thanks for reading, goodbye now.
well me hearty, time for a flagan of rum before ye work on avoidin the scurvy and attack the spuds again (it’s really hard to be all piratey)!xx
Towny: Ooh extra points for the flagon of rum!! x
Tis quite amusing! As for your potato problem, tis not so pleasing to me good eye !
PS I am posting this a couple of rum shots ago!
Far’s oy see it, thaar’s two choices…
Die or sail to Merikay! Aaaaaaarrrrrrr!!
TM: Oh this is going very well. Another 10! Oh and I be off to Facebook to change my settings, yarrr…
Jen: Ahaha cracker! Extra points for use of the term ‘wench’, surely x
Growup: Hmm, not too much piratey speak there, but I take your point, me hearty.
Hockey: Good point. I be certainly avoiding the scoundrels in future. Oh and your pirate speak is poo, so it be
Yo ho ho a bottle of rum and also a pirates life for me!!
Do I get extra points for mentioning the hottest pirate of all time – Johnny Depp!!!!!
YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR
I don’t think I’d cut it as a pirate – more like to say “Yah” than “Yarrgh”
Erm, that’s all I think of…pathetic I know…sorry
Nutty: I think yarrrggghhh is verging on a vomiting noise. Yah is acceptable in the circumstances. Good day. x
Jenn: Ahoy you there. Passable 8/10 I reckon.
Lola: Ooh arr? That sounds more Graham Norton than Johnny Depp LOL!
Can you get wooden legs for potatoes? No. Thought not. Bad luck EM. Now, you’ll either have to sterilise the ground, or better yet don’t grow potatoes there again, or you’ll infect the new lot too.
And shivers me timbers (I am not good at this!) it looks like you have started another Great Irish Potato Famine and you must pack up and ship out to America now! Heave Ho!
TM: Haha! Sadly no, they just burrowed underneath it! x
Baino: Ooh full marks there. And I know. I be ashamed to be failin’ at potato rearin’ here on the Emerald Isle. Yarrrr.
Tara: Well you should know! Thank goodness I don’t look after real ones or they’d all be on their last legs! x
Jay: See, I had a sneaking suspicion that you’d be best at this pirate speak. Can’t think why?!
Growup: At the very least. That and the cat-o’nine-tails. Ooer!!
Jamie: Arrr, I’m a failure at potato growin’, it be true. Off to Americky with me
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