Legends from our own lunchtimes

Friday, July 08, 2011


"What do you think that is?" came the cry from the boat in front while a grey bearded figure pointed sternly at the yellow fields in the distance.

"Colza", I replied using the French name " We call it Rape, but you blokes call it Canola"

"It's the wrong colour" retorted the voice with the Canadian accent, although I'm fairly sure he pronounced it "color".

"We've seen heaps of this stuff," I shouted above Mr Perkins gruffness, "and I know a paddock of Rape when I see it."

Ten minutes later as we reached the yellow, the cruel, heartless and unforgiving northerner was laughing so hard he nearly ran his boat into the middle of the paddock.

Note to file: Canola is a Canadian invention - even a simple Veterinary Surgeon can tell the difference between Canola and Sunflowers.

At least tomorrow we will travel in the darkness of the five kilometre tunnel so we won't be able to see his shoulders move as he sniggers.


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