Adam's Apple and other nonsense

We have an apple tree in the back garden, known affectionately as Adam's Apple. Going back about ten years, the boy - who had just turned four - ate an apple and wanted to plant one of the seeds to see if anything grew. As you do at that age. Mr G helped him, (all the while muttering that probably nothing would come from it) they planted the seed in a little plant pot, and it grew, and they transplanted it into a bigger plant pot, and it grew, and it went into a large pot, and it grew and so on, and so on. Mr G had a moment and said something utterly ridiculous about the size of the plant, and I had to point out to him that what he had grown and nurtured and fed and watered, was not a plant but a goddamn apple tree. He seemed genuinely amazed by this, and I asked him what the hell did he expect to grow from an apple seed? He didn't realise that's how apple trees grew. Bless. 

Anyway, ten years have gone by, and the tree has been planted in the garden for a good two to three years now. It is a big, sprawling bugger of a tree. My father who has apple trees himself had already told us that it won't bear fruit, as you need another close by for pollination. Today was garden work, and after our gardener had been and mowed the lawn, Mr G cut the hedges and I cut down the brambles which had started to grow wild through the bushes. I went in to make lunch and he came rushing in with his phone.

Our tree has an apple. Right at the back, and you really had to look to see it. It looks like a Granny Smith (and it probably would have been a Granny Smith seed, as they are Mr G's favourites). I've just Googled now, and Granny Smith apple trees are self-fertile and do not need a pollination partner, although fruiting will improve if you do have one.  

And wow, Mr G excelled himself in bed last night. No, you dirty buggers, not like that. Tsk. I'm talking about one of his WTF moments. We lay in bed for a while and chatted about our day, and he is telling me that apparently robins migrate, or so another father at football training had told him.

Me: That's funny, I've never seen a... (I try to think of the word and fail, so think, sod it) gaggle or a swarm of robins before, have you?

Mr G starts roaring with laughter, and I think, here goes. Here starts the piss taking. But no, he doesn't stop laughing, and in turn he makes me laugh. To the point I'm crying. And I'm thinking, it wasn't that funny, surely? 

Mr G: I can't believe what I was going to say. 

Me: What?

Mr G: No, I can't. 

We are now both laughing to the point of hysteria (sorry sleeping kids and next door neighbours...). Meanwhile, I still don't know what I'm laughing at.

Me: Go on...

Mr G: I was going to say a turd of robins. What the hell does that even mean? A turd of robins? 

I start to laugh really loudly at this point.

Mr G: I think I was thinking a herd of robins, but even that's not bloody right, is it?

No, sweetheart, no it isn't. There genuinely isn't ever a dull moment with this man of mine. But it gets better. This morning we're discussing it again, and I tell him that I've looked into the migrating robins, and read out an interesting article I'd found on the RSPB website. And we mull over where the heck he got turd of robins from. So I tell him to Google what a collective of robins is called. So he did.

Mr G: Of course, I did actually know this. A round of robins.

I went through to the kitchen and he called me back.

Mr G: Come and look at this! The scientific name for an (American) robin...

Turdus migratorius. Haha. Never a dull moment ;-)

We switched teas around tonight, and had the Chubby Cubs Tandoori Burger (although we use Madras paste because we're hardcore, like). 

A brown Henllan Bakery roll, split. Bottom spread with mango chutney, then iceberg lettuce, and cucumber. Then on goes a whole madras spiced chicken breast, topped with an onion bhaji, mint raita and then the lid on top. It's about six inches tall. Served with homemade Slimming World Chips and the extra bhaji (the boys also had the burger but they don't like onions). Lush.

Looking forward to our next day out tomorrow, pack another on plan picnic lunch to take with us, before Mr G has to start bedding down for his weekend in work. It looks like it's all change weather wise from Tuesday, rain, rain and more rain well into October, and a drop in temperatures too. Which suits me fine as long as I can stay indoors. Fire lit, tea lights and scented candles burning, and something hearty cooking for tea. Sounds like a plan to me :-)