The Great Chilli Race
A month or two ago my neighbour gave me a few chilli seedlings that he was going to throw away once he'd thinned them out. I'm a sucker for free potential vegetables so I thanked him, repotted them and left them to the mercy of the slugs and snails.

Two plants survived, each in their own flowerpot. My bloke was resoundly mocking my mollusc-nibbled stalks so I hatched a cunning plan: I gave him one of them and announced that we'd have a chilli-growing race. Now, it turns out that my fella knows a helluva lot about gardening - which you wouldn't think to look at the long-haired hippy - but a few years ago when he was growing his own high quality weed he took it incredibly seriously, and thus the chilli race began by him lecturing me at length about the dangers of watering seedlings with chlorinated tap water.

Undeterred and knowing that the only thing he's cultivated in his flat for a while is mould, I snuck out the Miracle-Gro and bathed my little green beauty in plant feed, carefully avoiding the holes in the leaves and the slightly bendy stalk. The thing looked shit, but I had high hopes. Meanwhile, lover-boy would send me constructive messages like "bring it indoors and turn it in the windowsill", or "hydroponics would work better". (Damn him, he was right - turns out chillis grow really well hydroponically.)

Then, one evening a couple of weeks ago, as I was cooking myself a rather tasty satay, I saw my chance. I upended the bag of Tesco's Value Chilli Peppers and, giggling to myself the whole time, carefully balanced them on my fledgling seedling, thus:



A careful bit of styling and I took a couple of photos on my mobile phone and sent one to my darlin' with the message "who's on the back foot now, boyo?".

His seven indignant texts in the following five minutes suggested a degree of disbelief, unless "BIG CHILLI, MY RING!" was some sort of invitation. So, then, not so gullible. His nine year old daughter was a different matter though. I'd forgotten how much trust children place in grown ups. Oh, she had her doubts, but I had an explanation for each and every one of them. After a week of my more-and-more dubious statements she finally insisted on inspecting the plant herself. Damn. I'd removed the chillies by then, so I told her I'd picked them and eaten them. She took a stand against my fibs and declared that I had evidently glued some shop-bought chillies on, and then announced that if I had grown them, I'd have been stupid to pick and eat the green ones as they obviously weren't ripe. I'm still maintaining that I produced those peppers, though, and she's still not quite sure whether or not it's the truth.

The bloody seedling's got greenfly now and I'm convinced my beloved has smuggled them in as some sort of biological warfare. Gullible? Not me.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 21 Aug 2008, 22:59, 1 reply)

Given I'm currently trying to grow chillis myself from seed,
I saw that photo and was about to ask you what your secret was. Then I read the story.

I'm obviously more gullible than your bloke's daughter...
(LongJohnBaldry, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 10:34, closed)