Man’s World

Today’s hot gardening topic is the bit beside my drive. And in the great tradition of Socrates I am going to address the topic by answering FAQs

FAQ:An FAQ: FAQ What’sWhois a are frequentlyan you FAQ? kidding?asked question. All the right, answereran FAQ wishesis a were question frequentlythat askedto it. Next because FAQ he please. knows the answer FAQ: solving Whata quadraticis the formula equation for that you learned in fourth form but have never had the chance to show off? Now that’s what I call an FAQ. X equals minus B plus or minus the square root of B squared minus 4AC all over 2A. FAQ: Don’t you know how to make the computer do symbols? Next FAQ please. FAQ: What’s a quadratic equation? Next FAQ please. FAQ: How many quadratic equations have you encountered since leaving school? Look, this is a gardening magazine, not Algebra Monthly. Can we please have an FAQ or two on today’s hot gardening topic, which is the bit beside my drive? FAQ: The bit beside your drive? Was that an FAQ? FAQ: It’s got a question mark on the end, hasn’t it? It sounded more like a derisive exclamation mark to me, insinuating that the bit beside my drive has no more relevance to a gardening mag than the quadratic equation. FAQ: And has it? Whistling noises; fingers drumming on the table. FAQ: What’s all that about? Whistling noises; fingers drumming on the table. FAQ: Oh all right. Would his Columnar Majesty please be so good as to enlighten us on the subject of the bit beside his drive? Whistling noises; fingers drumming on the table. FAQ: Bloody hell this had better be worth it? What’s your drive like? Vertiginous. FAQ: Do you mean steep? I mean vertiginous to the point that courier drivers attempting to deliver cases of wine and other staples get their vans stuck about halfway up. FAQ: How do you know when a courier van is stuck? Either the smell of burning rubber, or the sound of the engine screaming, or sometimes the merry shouts of the courier driver as he discovers that the handbrake isn’t strong enough to hold the van. At which point the dog and I dash out to wave to the driver as he slithers back down the vertiginousness in order to let him know that we are in and that he shouldn’t drive away with the cases of wine or other staples. FAQ: Does this go down well? It doesn’t because the driver is concentrating on slithering. But when the slithering comes to an end he normally gets out of the van and comments in an exclamatory manner on the vertiginousness of the drive. He then often strives to persuade me that if I imagine he is ever again going to attempt to deliver a case of wine or other staples to this address I am subject to a delusion so extreme that I may be vulnerable to sectioning under the Mental Health Act of 1946. FAQ: Is that verbatim? That is not verbatim. FAQ: How do you respond? I say, ‘Down boy, down.’ FAQ: Are you not likely to inflame the situation by addressing the courier driver as ‘boy’? I am addressing the dog, who has sprinted down the vertiginousness to express his love by leaping on the courier driver. FAQ: Would one be right in imagining that this causes a benign expression to steal over the mien of the courier driver and induces sentiments of a conciliatory nature? Oddly enough, one would not. Which is why last autumn I planted 50 daffodil bulbs in the bit beside my drive in the hope that their exquisite springtime trumpets would sweeten the mood of the courier drivers as they burned their tyres, slithered backwards, were leapt upon by my dog and then had to carry cases of clinking staples up a vertiginous drive. FAQ: Has it worked? Oh look, we’ve run out of