Not last night but the night before, I'd just got myself settled into bed, with The World Tonight and a glass of wine, when I realized that I'd left my book along in the kitchen.
Now, as anyone of a certain age knows, once you've gone through the rigmarole of getting yourself comfy in bed, it's a bit of a thought to get back up again so I decided just to stay put.
The only book I had to hand was The Sprouters Handbook, not exactly a thriller but better than nothing, and as it turned out, a bit of a page turner.
Before I knew it I was up to page thirty as a whole new world of easy to grow super healthy food was revealed to me.
I had no idea they were so nutritious. Apparently you could survive just by eating Alfalfa and while I can't remember now, off the top of my head, which particular sprout does what, some will even restore grey hair to it's natural colour.
As I lay there wondering if a life of sprouting could turn back the raveges of time, I slowly driffted off into a heaven of sprouting possiblities and the next thing I knew the milkman was rattling his crates outside my window.
1 comment:
I am not that much of an e.e. cummngs fan and my name has capital letters and is, by rights, B. R. Wombat. This lack of even the simplest rules of English betokens the end of everything, probably. But that was not my comment, just a comment on how the blog refuses to present my name properly.
Goodness me, this sprouting must work if it has the milkman rattling his crates! Not only alfalfa can one live on. One can live on lovely non-GM maize (as I am at the minute, actually). Proving that the good Lord meant us all to be vegans. Another good one is rice and dhal which I can happily eat until the cows come home (or that pesky old milkman rattles).
Nice to see old Yoda taking care of my sentence structure up there. I didn't realise that the joys of sprouting were so unknown to you country folks before this!
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