A thought on yesterday's funeral

Yesterday's funeral was as is to be expected. Somber expressions, polite smiles, generally dark attire, and positive thoughts and memories about the recently departed.

I am embarrassed to admit that I easily recognised Paul and Carol, my Father's neighbours, but totally failed to identify my second cousin; Judith and friend from my teen years; Winnet.*  Fortunately they were both very kind, saw my lack of recognition and saved any further embarrassment by introducing themselves.

One recurring conversation throughout yesterday was that everyone I spoke to said that there was no mistaking who my Father was and that I was his spitting image.

I'm not really sure how to take this, as I was being repeatedly told that I looked very much like the ninety two year, lying in an oak coffin at the front of the crematorium!

Only the other day a young lady at the Ophthalmology clinic commented that I didn't look sixty. Fuck me I must have aged in the past few days!

---

* This is clearly not her real name, but a cruel nickname assigned to her nearly forty five years ago.  It is a corruption of her surname and has a most unpleasant meaning in these parts. We all found it hysterical at the time and it's still mildly amusing now.

A sad day.

 Today was a sad day. We lost the Wordle Witch. A few days ago she was her normal, smiling, vivacious self, and now she's gone. 

30% and the rest of the coven are, understandably, devastated. And, although my friendship with her was nowhere near as deep, I shall miss her greatly. She was bright, witty and had a permanently sunny disposition. She couldn't help laughing, even when she was extremely annoyed.

I'll always know her as the Wordle Witch, over our shared addition to the daily word puzzle, now owned and published by the New York Times.  She once made the careless admission that she had used a crossword solver website to conclude one of the Wordle puzzles. Forever after I used to taunt her that she "cheats at Wordle".

She was a permanent ray of sunshine and I hope my memories of her never fade.

Catching Up

Apologies, it's been a few days since I last made an entry in the Journal. Here is a half-arsed attempt to cover the events of the last four days.

Saturday, 12th October, 2024

This was the third early start that week. 

I had arranged to go fishing down at Severnstoke with Bubbles, so I was out of bed at five and on the road before six o'clock that morning.  We had a pleasant few hours on the bank, chatting and catching up with each others' news and this time was untroubled by the presence of barbel, or any other fish species for that matter! We had a few nibble, but neither of us managed to bring anything in towards the bank.

We packed up our tackle early in the afternoon and headed home. I needed a restorative kip before getting myself clean and tidy for a charity fund raising event over at Edgbaston Cricket Ground. It was for the Giles Trust and was themed around the film Grease. We had a great time, including beautiful food, good company and rather too much red wine!

Sunday, 13th October, 2024

Sunday was, shall we say, a rather lazy day after yesterday's activities and alcohol. My most strenuous activity was to dig up the last of the Charlotte potatoes and cut a cabbage from the veg patch.

TP arrived late in the afternoon and would be home until tomorrow afternoon, so 30% "killed the fatted calf" and assembled a huge Sunday dinner for us, including produce from the vegetable garden.

We, obviously, spent the time together catching up with each others' news and plans for the coming days.

Monday, 14th October, 2024

It wasn't the most cheerful* of days, so I decided to have an indoors day. I dug up a celeriac from the garden and spent a good chunk of the morning making celeriac soup for lunch.

30% headed out in the early afternoon to see her Nail Technician and deliver one of our pumpkin crop.** I took another lengthy snooze and spent further time with TP before he headed off home to Cardiff, via a friends in Worcester.

My main activity this evening was to dig out a suit and accompanying apparel suitable for tomorrow's funeral.

---

* The day took a turn for the worse when we heard that the Wordle Witch had been taken seriously ill over the weekend and was currently in intensive care with her family around her.  We are both shocked and dismayed that such a vivacious, funny and mischievous friend is so suddenly and so gravely ill. 

** We did very little to our pumpkin plants after getting them established up in the orchard at the end of May and they have done really well. They produced vigorous vines and we ended up with seven good sized fruit. 30% advertised these locally  and all seven have been sold for carving at Halloween.

Tuesday, 15th October, 2024

Today was not one I was looking forward to and any my primary goal was to get to the end of it without throwing a hissy fit or biting anyone's head off.

I did actually manage to achieve these objectives by employing 30% as a human shield. She did a magnificent job of interjecting herself between me and most of my family and made perfect small talk. I could, therefore, avoid exchanging meaningless chatter, in fact avoid any conversation at all.

The service was pretty much as expected, as the Celebrant had lifted most of her eulogy from my Dad's brief memoir. So, no surprises there.*

The wake was held at a local pub and, again, I managed to avoid small talk with my immediate family and, instead, caught up with J** and his mother's partner Ana. We stayed as long as necessary to be polite and, after a brief goodbyes, headed back to our little sanctuary.

I'll see all of them again at Friday's funeral, hopefully that will be no worse than today.

---

* My cousin "J" had been at his father's funeral the day before and commented that it was the same Celebrant and she used exactly the same final reflections in both ceremonies.  I had to pity J, he had his father's funeral yesterday, his uncle's today and his mother's will be held on Friday ... his 53rd Birthday! 

He did see a slightly humorous side to this unfortunate week. He had attempted to hire a suit for three funerals from Moss Bros and was told "no mate, you need to buy one"

** I last saw J back in 2000. At the time he was living in Mahahual on the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico and I escorted his mum out there on a visit to track him down. It was quite an adventure and, perhaps, on a quiet day I should add a few tales from that trip.

That looks a lot better

 I am, in equal measure, both amazed and dismayed at the ability of growing chickens to create mess!

I have already recounted the fact that they will willingly crap in their food and water receptacles and, despite being caged, they can spread food, moulted feathers and excrement for a considerable radius beyond their cage.  They also produce a fine, grey, powdery dust that settles on every surface in the space where they are reared. They are very messy indeed!

This morning I fed and let out the chickens in the coop up in the orchard and then wandered down to the storeroom to feed and water the younger growers.

The storeroom was an absolute bomb site of poultry related debris and, if I am honest, didn't smell too pleasant either.  Enough was enough, it was time to sort out this fucking mess.* 

Phase 1 was to put the three older Crested Cream Legbar pullets in a cardboard box and take them up to the orchard. This went smoothly and they were soon looking a little bemused at being in a large outside run with eight Marans and Norfolk Greys.

I then returned to the storeroom and implemented phase 2.  The brooder box, that held the legbar pullets, was carefully dismantled and the waste was dumped in the bin. I then spent the remainder of the morning vacuuming up the mess on the storeroom floor.

I appreciate that I still have a cage with nine growers in the store room, but it smells a lot better in there and I can get to my fishing tackle without having to shimmy past a brooder box.

The storeroom was a lot more pleasant by lunch time and first task of the afternoon was to head out and collect a prescription for 30%.** I killed a couple of birds with a single stone and headed up to Astwood Bank to pick up a few essentials for tomorrow's fishing trip while I was out.

On my return, I implemented phase 3 of my plan and spent an hour, or so, scrubbing the brooder box with a disinfectant solution. It was then left in the sun to dry.

After all of that I plan to do very little other than make a packed lunch for tomorrow and ensure that I have all of my fishing stuff packed in the Defender.

---

* I have a plan to sell on our surplus growers at the weekly Stratford upon Avon poultry auction. During my research of upcoming sales I learnt that it has recently become mandatory for all poultry keepers to register the fact that they are keeping chickens with the relevant Government department.  I would need to register the fact that I was a keeper, before I would be able to sell the birds. 

One of the first jobs this morning was to get the form filled in and emailed off to DEFRA, Animal and Plant Health Agency (APHA). 

** A request instruction was received via WhatsApp this morning.

Another early start

 Today featured another early start.

I had an appointment at the Ophthalmology Clinic over at Worcester Royal and needed to be out of the house at about half past seven.  This meant that I was whizzing around in the pre-dawn darkness emptying dogs and ensuring that the chickens were fed and watered.

It was a bloody good job that I sorted out the dogs and chickens because it was half past eleven before I made it back home.

The appointment was thorough and informative and it appears that I do not need laser surgery, but have finally been provided with a more accurate diagnosis and treatment plan.*  The only negative aspect of this morning's outpatient appointment was the forty five minute wait for the hospital pharmacy to dispense the requisite steroids. This was somewhat surprising as the pharmacy was filled with busy little pharmacists and dispensers and there were only a couple of outpatients waiting. I appreciate that the inpatients also require drugs but I just can't fathom why it took so long when there were so many staff and so few customers in the pharmacy?

Mind you, this is my view of most of the NHS. It seems to have loads of people doing stuff and an even greater number of people just wandering around and chatting. As a final point I will mention that the UK Quality Care Commission assesses this hospital as Requiring Improvement! Not exactly confidence inspiring, is it?

The afternoon descended in to several hours of laziness, including a snooze and a bit of binge watching. I eventually got my shit together late in the afternoon and took the dogs out for a walk and finished raking up the hedge clippings in the front garden.

There you go, that was Thursday.

---

* For several months I have been treated by an NHS Service Provider. In other words, a private company that performs straightforward clinical services on behalf of the NHS. A cataract factory! The consultant I saw today has finally pointed me in the right direction if my eye condition doesn't improve.

What time is it?

 That was my first utterance this morning.

Apparently it is a husband's duty to ferry his wife and her crony to the Airport.*  So, this morning I was shaken from my bed shortly after five o'clock and heading towards Birmingham Airport, via Alcester, at six o'clock sharp.  30% and "M" are off to Amsterdam for a three day mini-break and I was the sucker that had to endure Birmingham's rush hour, motorway traffic in the dark. The drive wasn't actually too bad, although I doubt the sanity of anyone who would want to commute on the M42.**  

The airport run took about ninety minutes and, once home, I ministered to the chickens and took the dogs for a quick walk down the lane.

I then got back in to the car and headed over to Evesham to make floral arrangements for next week's funeral. This was quite straightforward and I have to say it is quite lovely that absolutely no-one wants to be a pain in the arse when you are referencing bereavement and funeral arrangements.  If people can be that nice, why do they default to being complete arseholes for most of their lives?

Anyway, flowers sorted ... CHECK ✅. 

Next I headed over to Redditch to purchase chicken food and a few fishing tackle essentials for Saturday's expedition to the Severn. Again, I was successful although these errands consumed virtually all of the morning.

The early start caught up with me after lunch and I have to report that an extended snooze took place. I then headed up to the orchard and topped up the bees' feeders before getting busy in the kitchen. A large bowl of tomatoes was converted to tomato soup before I took the dogs out for another short walk along th lane.

So that sums up Wednesday. In retrospect it looks like I didn't get much done, but it felt like I was on the go for virtually all of the day ... apart from the minutes when my eyes were shut!

---

* The interesting point about this statement is that, whilst it may be my duty to take them to the airport, it is most definitely NOT the crony's husband's duty to pick them up when they return on Friday. When the crony was asked whether her husband would perform this task she replied "Oh no, Steve wouldn't do that".

** Today's local television news reported that it has been rated as the worst motorway in the UK. 

Rain stopped play ... eventually

My plan for today was to continue hedge cutting, focussing up in the orchard.

However ... there's always a "however" isn't there. A little fact or incident that puts paid to my original plans and diverts me to some other shit. Today's "however" was that I planned to make a start on the hedges in the orchard HOWEVER I noticed that 30% had left scatterings of hedge cuttings all over the place* and these needed to be raked up.

So, other than nipping out to Redditch for some building sand, my main accomplishment was the raking and piling up of hedge clippings. 

The rain came in about midway through the afternoon and I didn't fancy a soaking, so I spent a lazy afternoon indoors doing very little.  I like to call this "planning".

---

* One example of this madness** was that she had raked up the clippings from one side of a hedge and had then moved on to another hedge, not bothering with the other side of the first hedge.

** I am a completer/finisher. She is more of a starter and let some other idiot finish the job, because she's moved on to something more interesting. My wife is something of a mental butterfly.

Guess what I've been up to?

 Yep, no surprises here!

Monday was exactly like the preceding four days, more hedge cutting. Today I managed to cut the hedges at the front of the property, bordering the lane, and also the hedge alongside of the garden, bordering the arable field upslope of the cottage.

As I was working I heard the hedging contractor in a field just down the road and hoped that today's duties would include the hedges bordering the cottage ... unfortunately that was not to be. He actually tried the gate to the little pasture, but it was bloody locked and he disappeared off to do another field ... Fuck!

Anyway, I can't make hedge cutting in any way interesting, so I'll move on to the equally unexciting subject of potatoes. Back in July I planted a row of second crop potatoes. The Charlotte variety flowered a couple of weeks back and the foliage has now died away. I therefore decided to dig up a couple of plants and see how they have done.

Second Crop Potatoes. var: Charlotte

It is fair to say that the crop isn't huge and I needed to dig three or four plants for a meal.  We had them with home grown carrots and runner beans and roast pork this evening and they tasted superb. 

In retrospect, I have had far better crops with Spring planted, second early potatoes, but I wasn't able to get them in the ground this year as a result of very wet soil and other issues with the veg patch in the Spring.

However, the Maris Peer are still in the ground and looking very healthy. Fingers crossed that they produce a better crop.

On a mission

The past few days have been exhausting, and, as a consequence, any downtime has been spent slumped on the sofa rather than making entries in The Journal.

Let me explain.  The cottage has about three hundred yards of hedging. This is not your suburban, domestic 4' high privet or laurel hedging. This is your agricultural, 6' high, 6' wide, hawthorn and bramble, a cow aint getting through that hedging. It is thick. It is nasty and it is time to cut it back.

Most farmers use a tractor and flail hedge cutter to keep their field boundaries in order. Unfortunately access issues prevent their use at the cottage, so I need to resort to loppers and a variety of chainsaws and hedge cutters. 

To make matters worse, I was unable to cut the hedges last year due to my bad back and the farmer, whose land borders the cottage, didn't cut his side of them either. As a result the 6' high hedges now sport vigorous shoots reaching 14' skyward. 

It is going to be a bastard of a job and, with a fine spell of weather forecast, it is time to make a start.

Thursday, 3rd October. 2024

This morning started with a trip to the Vets as Whiffler was due his inoculations. Since we were out and about, we decided to head over to The Valley in Evesham and pick up a few terracotta pots. These will be needed for the tulip and dwarf iris bulbs that we picked up at the RHS Autumn Show last Sunday. 

We were home by lunchtime and, after eating, I headed out to make a start on the hedges. I decided to ease myself in to the task and started on the short length that borders the back lawn and the orchard.  This hedge had been laid a couple of years ago, so it was in good shape and needed little more than a good cut. Having said that, there was still four or five feet of growth that needed to be taken out of the top of it and the wild rose at one end was vicious.

After an hour or so I stood back and surveyed my effort and was reasonably pleased. It was now time to start on the hedges that border the property. These are monsters. I decided to make a start on the one that borders the neighbouring pasture, as this currently throws a lot of shade on the greenhouses and the veg patch.

First I used my electric hedge cutter to take back the growth on our side of the hedge. Then I grabbed a short ladder and set it against the hedge. It was now slow progress using loppers to take out the 8' high shoots of Ash, Hawthorn and Elder* as these are far too big for a hedge cutter. After clearing the larger shoots, I was finely able to use my petrol long-reach hedge cutter to level out the top of the hedge.

It was slow progress and I estimate that I can complete about five yards of hedging in an hour. At the end of day #1, I reckon that I had cut about forty or fifty yards of hedging and poor 30% had created a mountain of brash up in the orchard.

---

* That is 8' above the top of the hedge. These shoots are a couple of inches in diameter at the point I was cutting them!

Friday, 4th October, 2024

It was hedging all day today. I continued the hedge bordering the pasture downslope of the cottage. This is probably close to fifty years in length and gets challenging, as twenty yards of the hedge runs behind the outbuildings. It has almost completely filled the 6' gap between the hedge and the back of the building, so clearing the overgrowth was tricky in such a confined space.

It took all day to clear about thirty yards of hedging* and my hands have been cut to ribbons by thorns, despite stout leather gloves and equipment that does its best to distance the user from the hedge.

I just hope that the farmer gets his contractor to cut the hedges in the pasture, as the ragged edge on his side really messes with the completer/finisher in me!

---

* This 30 yards included the ten or fifteen yards of copper beech hedging that forms a break between the front and rear gardens. The beech hedging was an absolute breeze to cut in comparison to the thorn filled. field hedging.

Saturday, 5th October, 2024

This morning saw me, bright and early, down at the local surgery for my flu and covid inoculations. As I wandered back to the car I realised that my left arm was going to be really sore later on, from both the injections and a day of hedge cutting.

I guess I managed about four or five hours on the hedges before I decided that I needed a change. I dragged the lawn mower out of the shed and spent a few hours tidying up the lawns around the house.  Mowing seemed like a positive picnic after the slog of the past three days.

Sunday, 6tth October, 2024

Guess what? Yep, another day working on the hedges. I finally finished the stretch behind the outbuildings and 30% has had the genius idea of hiring an industrial shredder to convert the cuttings in to mulch for use on the garden. We have used one previously, when we lived at The Pile, and they are absolutely brilliant tools.

We also had some potentially good news from our neighbouring farmer. 30% received a text message advising that his hedge cutting contractor will hopefully be attending to the hedges around the cottage in the near future.

I bloody hope so, because that will reduce my work by a massive amount.

A mildly frustrating morning

 This morning I had a plan.

I needed to go and pick up a bag of chicken food from the local feed store and decided to try to kill several birds with one stone.*  I grabbed a parcel that needed to be posted and a honey bucket that needed to be returned to Pete the beekeeper.

Smugly I mentally ticked off items on my to do list as I clambered in to the Land Rover and set off towards the village post office. Unfortunately I had messed up my astronomical, floral and faunal observations and the bloody place was closed. "No worries" I thought, as I had a vague recollection of there being a post office close to the feed store.

As I drove over to Redditch I caught sight of the post office just before I turned in to the feed store, where I learnt that they were out of growers pellets. Apparently a chap had come in on Monday and bought their entire stock.  My first thought was "bollocks", but an optimism neuron fired and I realised that, at least, I could get the damned parcel posted.

Two minutes later I was heading towards feed store #2 in Feckenham,* where I was politely informed that they only stock layers pellets. 

Arseholes! Our supplies were very low and I couldn't recall experiencing a situation like this in all the years we have kept poultry.  I grabbed my phone and gave feed store #3, over at Bromsgrove, a call. Their customer service was brilliant, as they confirmed that they had growers pellets and even went to check the stock levels.  I was delighted that I had located a supply, but then needed to drive another ten miles to collect the feed.

In all my forty minute errand took all fucking morning, I'd driven twice as far as I had planned and I failed to return Beekeeper Pete's honey bucket.

The afternoon was slightly more productive, as I managed to prepare, blanch and freeze two of the celeriac stems that I dug yesterday.

---

* It's probably worth stressing that this errand should have taken forty minutes at most ... forty minutes, less than an hour, not very long at all really.

** minus the parcel

Goblin Fruit #2

 It was another soggy day and, again, I did my best to stay out of the rain and chilly wind.

I did, however, spend the best part of an hour outside harvesting five of my celeriac plants. They have grown beautifully over a Summer that can, at best, be described as cool with average rain and sunshine.

Just out of the ground

Washed and scrubbed

Trimmed, but not yet peeled

Having processed the celeriac to the point where they could be stored, I weighed them just to see how they compared to store bought examples. The largest were around 950g and the smallest of this bunch was about 650g after trimming. It seems that our celeriac is as big as those in the supermarket, but is much more fragrant.

If I am honest, after cleaning up the stems, I planned to do very little for the rest of the day. However, a modicum of motivation intruded on my laziness and I grabbed a large saucepan and the other ingredients for a batch of creamy celeriac soup. It took an hour or so to prep the veg and make the soup, but this batch will provide about ten servings and freezes beautifully.

After finishing the soup, I glanced at the three remaining celeriac stems. It looks like I will be blanching and freezing those tomorrow and, possibly, trying out a recipe for remoulade.

An indoors sort of day

The weather this morning was miserable. It was cold and there was a fine drizzle that did its best to surreptitiously soak you.

It was definitely an indoors day. After sorting out the chickens and taking the dogs for a short walk down the lane, I spent the day pottering. Bills were paid, little jobs were completed and I even took a chance on finding the village post office open*, as I needed to post a parcel.

In summary, I managed to potter through the day without having to resort to a significant quantity of daytime television. A decent siesta was taken and a variety of admin tasks and little jobs were completed.

The weather forecast for tomorrow looks similar, so I need to have a think about what might be achieved on Tuesday.

---

* The village post office has opening hours that are even more complex than the timing of Easter. Apparently Easter is scheduled on the first Sunday after the Paschal full moon. Our Post Office opening appears to be dependent on an array of complex astronomical calculations combined with the presence or absence of local fauna and flora. Basically you need to recall when the Lords and Ladies are in flower, whether a hedgehog wandered through a specific garden last night and the position of Orion in the night sky .... or just chance it.**

** I'm not sure which experience is more disappointing; arriving and finding it closed or arriving and wandering in to the dismal broom cupboard that is our local post office.

It's a good job he doesn't bite!

Several weeks ago we purchased tickets for the RHS Autumn Show at the Three Counties Show Ground in Malvern.  We've been on a couple of previous occasions and enjoyed the show but two factors encouraged us to go again this year. Firstly, we have a much bigger garden and retirement has given us the time to explore the joys of having a proper garden.* Secondly, for the first time ever, the Three Counties Show society has allowed visitors to bring their dogs.**

We decided that we would only take Hobson, after taking all three dogs to the Game Fair. The Rat isn't a great fan of unfamiliar crowds and it is a long day for Whiffler, who is now in his eleventh year.

After completing our morning chores, we threw Hobson in to the back of the Defender and headed over to the Malvern show ground. We had a lovely day, but it was fair to say that Hobson was the star. He looked incredibly smart, having been groomed on Friday and, being 26" at the shoulder, he certainly drew attention wherever he went.

We had lots of people come up and ask about him and I noticed that people were reaching out to stroke the top of his head as they wandered past. As it says in the title of today's entry "it's a bloody good job he doesn't bite"! It is common sense to ask a dog owner before reaching out to stroke their animal. I've come across a few mutts that respond to a proffered hand with a growl and a lighting fast snap. Fortunately Hobson is a calm and friendly lad and he bathed in the adoration of the crowds.

He was an absolute star all day. He walked beautifully alongside us and there was no lunging to try to greet or sniff the other dogs at the show. He even behaved himself when we took a walk through the small animals display and encountered llamas, ponies, pigs and goats, although he did try to eat some pig pooh at one point. I am amazed at what a calm boy he is, considering that he is only twenty months old.

Anyway, we had a lovely day and even had a few plant and bulb bargains, as it was the last day of the show. A final thought on the day was provided by 30%; "it's a good job we didn't take Whiffler as well, we would have become an attraction rather than visitors".

---

* The garden at The Pile was a reasonable size, about one fifth of an acre, but it was low maintenance; being mostly lawn, paving and a short length of laurel hedging.

** This was a "one-day only" concession on Sunday 29th September. Previously all other Three Counties events have been assistance dogs only. The realist cynic in me wonders if this was a trial to explore whether allowing dogs increases footfall and commercial revenue?

Mouse Guards and Cheesy Peas

After running around for most of Friday, with little to show for it, today was a little more productive. I'm not promising that it was exciting or interesting, but definitely more productive.

First job of the day was to check on the BMW, which is currently off the road and under covers in the carport. I replaced the moisture absorbing crystals in the damp prevention device and dug out another couple of bags of absorbent crystals from the shed. These had been sat around for years, but I could see no reason why a couple of hours in a low oven wouldn't desiccate them ... experiment started.

After sorting out the car, I headed off down the road with the dogs for a short walk, while 30% headed off to the supermarket. On my return, I pottered for a while before I gathered a spade and mattock and wandered up to the orchard.

My intention was to lay a couple of paving slabs at each end of the chicken coop. The weather will worsen over the coming months and this measure will mean that I avoid trudging through a muddy slurry at each end of the day. I didn't actually get very far with this task as 30% returned from her errands and we stopped for lunch.

In the afternoon we shifted gear and got on with shit! The slabs were laid by the coop and, while I was up in the orchard, I topped up the feeders on the hives and pinned the mouse guards* to the hive entrances. We then spent a happy hour ensuring that various drains around the property were cleared of debris. 

As the afternoon waned, I cleaned up and headed in to the kitchen. Mummy Sheila had been invited over for a bite to eat and we had decided that we would attempt Matar Paneer,** following the Asian cookery demo on Wednesday.  I used a BBC Food recipe*** and we were delighted with the outcome. It was more spicy than the recipe demo'd on Wednesday, but one could always reduce the chillies and garam masala, according to tastes.

The dish was eaten with garlic naan, poppadoms, pickles and minted yoghurt and was lovely ... another vegetarian triumph!

Sheila departed shortly before nine and we spent the remainder of the evening slumped on the sofa.

---

* It is claimed that, if you can fit a pencil through a hole or crack, a mouse will be able to get through it. The little sods have a tendency to creep in to hives over the Winter months and cause chaos eating the comb and honey. Hence perforated metal mouse guards are pinned over the hive entrance. The bees are still able to come and go, but mice are excluded.

** I loved the Fast Show and it amuses me that Matar Paneer is cheesy peas.

** Note: BBC Food, not BBC Good Food

Busy doing nothing

 Well, as today closes, I look back and surmise that I seemed to have been on the go for most of the day, but I'm not sure that I achieved much.

Shortly after breakfast I encouraged Whiffler and Hobson in to the back of the Defender and headed over to Stratford upon Avon.  They were booked in for a bath and clip. As I drove in to this delightful* little Warwickshire town all seemed well and then everything seemed to come to a stop. At this point I should advise that this was ten c'clock in the morning, and therefore not an understandable rush hour jam.

I eventually made my way across town and dropped off the dogs. A mental note was made to leave home in plenty of time to collect them, or, preferably, abdicate from this duty and remind 30% of this point.

I stopped off at the supermarket on the way out of Stratford and picked up the key ingredient for the Matar Paneer and also added a key ingredient to the Defender; diesel.  I then headed across to Bromsgrove for a dental checkup. 

These two activities had consumed the entire morning and, by the time I had lunched and taken care of a few odd jobs, it was time to head back out to collect the dogs.

Another hour was spent in the car, and the time spent in traffic jams was used wisely; making changes to the play list on my phone.

As I close out this Journal entry I will point out that I spent at least three hours driving today and covered over 75 miles on country roads. My wallet is somewhat lighter having filled up the Defender and made my Dentist slightly richer. The dogs also look beautiful, but I'm not sure any of this counts as an achievement.

It's probably time for another list.

---

* It has its good points, but I'm not a massive fan, particularly of its traffic system. Like Evesham, the entire town will grind to a halt as a result of a dog taking a shit on the High Street.