Object Post 134;
Charles Archer’s Catering Carrot
From Five for Bandinangi
Source: Charles bred it, probably using his patent
fertiliser
Significance? Only in Bandinangi!
Fate? The first one got eaten by a feral rabbit with
fangs
~~~~~
‘I’m warning you kids
- if any of you lays one little finger on my prototype catering carrot I’ll compost you! I’m saving it for seed.’
Charles Archer, known to his grandchildren as Pop, was
every bit as temperamental as his son C. George Archer. He had a busy life,
keeping up with his strong-minded wife Blossom with whom he held a treasured
rivalry to produce the most bizarre things in the garden. Blossom specialised
in what she called companion plants but
Charles was more interested in vegetables.
His granddaughter Rachel, also known as Sheepface, had agreed
to look after her friend’s pet rabbit, which rejoiced in the name of Fluffbugs,
for three weeks. Rachel’s brother Justin made it a cage, and her other brother
Jeremy got interested too. As Jeremy said…
…Sheepface nicked
a whole heap of the carrots Pop had grown to sell to Villajicacki Broggen’s
restaurant/deli in Sol Street. Pop wasn’t very pleased, but Fluffbugs was.
Fluffbugs was delighted.
‘I s’pose the animal has to eat,’ said Pop
when he found out he was a few carrots short, ‘but I’m warning you kids - if
any of you lays one little finger on my prototype catering carrot I’ll compost
you! I’m saving it for seed.’
The carrots Fluffbugs enjoyed were more-or-less normal
specimens of Daucus carota sativus,
but the catering carrot was something else.
‘Who’d want to lay a finger on it?’ said Sheepface, and
for once I agreed. Pop’s catering carrot was a real whopper. It was over a
metre long, and Pop had bred it especially so’s restaurant keepers like
Villajicacki Broggen would be able to buy five carrots instead of five hundred.
Rachel opined that not even Fluffbugs could eat a whole
catering carrot, but her dad didn’t agree, calling Fluffbugs a one-rabbit
vegetable processor.
Jeremy decided to take some “rabbit in the wild” photos
of Fluffbugs, so he unwisely removed the bunny from its cage. Next thing, it
had escaped down a hole on the golf course and Jeremy was fishing for it using carrots as bait.
Eventually, Uncle Harrington came up with a solution…
‘Obviously,’ said
Uncle H, ‘the bait’s too small. What you
need is a bigger carrot.’
‘That’s what
I thought,’ I said. ‘Only there aren’t
any.’
‘There might be,’ said Uncle H. ‘I’ll go and look.’
Harrington
naturally returned with the famous catering carrot which was soon reduced to a
stub.
Charles
raged for a bit and then bred a bigger one. Fluffbugs Fang dived back down the
hole to emerge only when golfers were foolish enough to include carrot in their
lunch-packs. So that was all right!
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