Broccoli

I love broccoli (So does my granddaughter, Kiki. She is also left-handed like me. That girl will go far), so, this evening, to accompany my - well never mind, the veggies might be reading this - I bought a crown of broccoli. It looked fetchingly green, complex and stalky: till I took it out to wash it.
It was then that I discovered that my broccoli was flaccid. We are talking fatigue. We are talking droop. I have to be honest, I don't stock the culinary equivalent of sildenafil citrate, so I just washed the ailing brassica, gave it the statutory three minutes in boiling water (with bayleaves of course, it's always good to be perfumed) and ate it while thinking of something else.
In fact it was quite tasty, and, of course, nutritious. There's more to life than being stalky. That, at least, is what I told myself.