Ouch!

Today was the day that Whiffler had his operation.

30% took him in to the Vet's, while I headed out with Hobson and TB for our usual walk.

It was significantly cooler today, and the weather and our schedule meant that very little was removed from my to-do list. I did add a feeder to the nucleus colony, and I also had an appointment at the surgery to review pain management for my stenosis symptoms.

The GP confirmed that my self-mediation was appropriate, but he also recommended that I refer myself to NHS Physiotherapy for guidance on appropriate back exercises.

The Vet called in the early afternoon to advise that Whiffler was out of surgery and could be collected at four o'clock.  The operation had gone well, and the Vet seemed quietly confident of a positive outcome.  We are well aware that the cancer may had metastasised,* and that Whiffler is an old dog, but we are hopeful that it will give him another year of good quality pottering and sniffing.

Shortly before four, we headed up to the Vet's to collect Whiffler.  We were briefed on his post-surgery care, drugs were handed over, and follow-up appointments were made.** Then the old fellow was brought out.  He seemed quite perky, but he was a bit wobbly. This was totally understandable when we saw the site of his surgery. You might have heard the phrase, "tear someone a new arsehole." Well, it looked like that was exactly what had happened to our poor, old dog.

Ouch!

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* Anal gland cancer can metastasis through the lymphatic system and take hold in the spine causing a variety of nasty symptoms.  

** I almost forgot to mention that the best part of nine hundred quid was handed over too. I'd also paid the roofers this morning, so it was quite an expensive day!

Just in time?

Wednesday was always going to be quite a busy day.

Our local roofing company turned up promptly at eight o'clock,  and spent most of the day giving the roof a touch of remedial attention.  The main job was to replace the cement flashing at the base of the chimney with lead flashing.  They also attended to the cement haunching around the pot, and repointed parts of the chimney.  The chaps advised that the job was definitely overdue.  They also attended to a few loose and cracked tiles, and a couple of dodgy ridge tiles.  

We are aware that we will need to have the cottage re-roofed at some point, but this remedial work will keep us watertight for a while longer yet.

Mid-morning saw me head out for a walk with Hobson and TB.  We took our normal route along the lanes to Pete's house, before returning through the fields.  

TB is now quite happy about the footbridge, and both he and Hobson charged across and headed right along the hedge line at full speed.  I followed behind and looked to the left, our normal direction of travel.  The idiot dogs had totally failed to see a group of six or eight Fallow bucks about sixty yards away.* I called the dogs to me, and they still hadn't noticed the deer.  I soon had them back on their leads and watched as the deer jumped through a gap in the hedge and headed off.  The rest of the walk was uneventful, as I selected a route that headed in the opposite direction to the one chosen by the deer.

Today was forecast to be warm and sunny, perfect conditions for my first inspection of the hives.  In the early afternoon I put on my bee suit, lit my smoker and headed up to the orchard with a trolley laden with queen excluders and supers.

I started with hive #1 and was delighted to see that it was filled with bees. There were at least eight frames with brood at various stages of development and I even managed to locate the queen.  There seemed to be some nectar being stored and I was surprised by the large amounts of pollen being packed away too.  I added a queen excluder and super to the hive and returned the crown board and the roof.  This hive had not seemed to be as active as the other colonies, so I was expecting something similar, or perhaps more impressive from the other hives.

I moved to hive #2 and gave them a good puff of smoke before opening up the colony.  It was filled to bursting with bees. There were so many, considering that many would be flying on such a fine day, that it was difficult to check the frames for brood, disease or signs of possible swarming.  I inspected as carefully as I could and soon saw signs that the colony was preparing to swarm. I saw a few queen cups, and encountered open queen cells as my inspection progressed.

I didn't want a strong colony to swarm so I replaced the crown board and headed back to the store room to collect a nucleus box and some spare brood frames. I had made the decision to perform a split of the colony, and planned to relocate the queen, a couple of frames of brood and plenty of nurse bees to the nucleus box.  The only problem with that plan was that it entailed locating the queen in a hive that was filled to overflowing with bees.  Fortunately the God of Beekeeping** smiled down on me and I managed to find her ... at the second attempt.

I assembled the nut with a couple of frames of brood, a frame of stores and a couple of frames of foundation. I shook in a couple of frames of nurse bees and moved it about six feet away from its parent hive. I'll add a feeder tomorrow and give them a couple of litres of sugar syrup. That should encourage the workers to start building comb on the sheets of foundation.

The parent hive will now be left for at least four weeks in the hope that a new queen will hatch, mate and start to lay ... I just hope that the weather stays fine and that there are sufficient drones in the area.

Hive #3 was similar to the previous hive, but not quite as advanced in the development of swarm cells.  This was fortunate as I do have another nucleus box, but I had no spare brood frames available.  I continued with my inspection and was very happy with the state of this colony too. I'm just well aware that it will need to be split next week, unless the buggers swarm beforehand. 

I spent an hour in the workshop this evening assembling a batch of brood frames and can also report that I have made contact with a Beekeeper in Studley, who may have a couple of buckets of honey available ... watch this space.

So, in case it isn't clear, the title of today's Journal entry comes from the fact that a) we seem to have had the chimney repaired, b) I managed to restrain the dogs, and c) I inspected the hives just in time.

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* They were originally a hunting dog. My two obviously didn't get that memo!

** Apparently it's Aristaeus.

That's quite enough for today

The plan for today was to bottle a couple of batches of honey.  I set to work straight after breakfast, and soon had the first batch clarifying in a hot water bath.  

I also realised that today's honey bottling efforts would leave me with only about twelve pounds of honey in the bucket.  I have reached out to a couple of local Apiarists for a new supplier of bulk honey, but have yet to find anyone with any spare.  I even reached out to a chap in Monmouth, who had thirty buckets available, but he had sold out already!

I took the dogs out for our usual walk in an interval while the honey was liquifying.* We, again, headed out to Pete's house and returned across the fields. I can report that Traitorous Bastard is becoming far more confident in crossing the footbridge across the stream. Perhaps the troll has moved on, or has decided that the local Fallow deer are a more tasty treat?

The afternoon included a short snooze on the sofa, before I headed out to the carport.  TP had given me a hand to turn the new gates around, when he was here at the weekend, so I was able to apply a coat of protective oil** to the other side of one of the gates.  I hope to have them ready for installation shortly.  The only tricky task will be getting access, so I can oil the bottom rail of the gates.

I had planned to perform the first full inspection of the hives this afternoon, but the weather was quite breezy, so I decided to leave that until tomorrow.

I was also quite tired after what had turned out to be a busy day.

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* This last batch from Pete has set like concrete!  Previous batches have been thick and viscous. This honey has set hard and breaks apart in chunks after considerable persuasion with a spoon.

** Osmo UV Protection oil

Afternoon Tea

It's Easter Monday and there were hordes of walkers out and about.

I headed out with Hobson and TB and we took our normal walk as far as Pete the Beekeeper's house. On our return we, again, cut away from the road and headed down the footpath across the fields.

Traitorous Bastard was slightly less apprehensive of crossing the footbridge, but was totally confused later when he was expected to duck under a stile.  Hobson dipped under it with barely a break in his stride, but TB just stood there looking bemused.  I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that he is a definite Townie with no understanding of our Country ways.  TB was eventually persuaded to duck under the stile, when I grabbed his collar and gave a gently tug.

This afternoon 30% and I headed over to the Lygon Arms at Broadway. We had been gifted a voucher for afternoon tea by Bubbles and Bobbyn and we had made our reservation for four o'clock.  I grew up less than three miles from The Lygon, but have never before visited.  It had a reputation, much as the rest of Broadway does, of being filled with International* tourists. I can confirm that this little Cotswold village lived up to its reputation and was very busy in the early Spring sunshine.

We settled ourselves at our table and had rather splendid afternoon tea. There was endless tea or coffee, a variety of sandwiches, scones with jam and clotted cream, and a selection of cakes and gateaux.  There was plenty to eat and neither of us had any complaints, although we had researched the cost of this gift, and I'm not sure that we had consumed ninety quids worth of food!** 

So that was it for Easter Monday, apart from one thing ... as the day drew to a close I noticed that my stenosis symptoms seem to be slightly improved. It's could be just that I have had a good day, but I am hoping that it may be easing, as it did after a few weeks last year.***

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* My Dad used to refer to them in a dismissive tone as "Yanks" or "Bloody Foreigners" 

** About four years ago we were gifted a Champagne afternoon tea at The Grosvenor in Chester.  It was unbelievable!  I have never eaten nor drunk as much in an afternoon and we both rolled out of the hotel bloated and tipsy.  I haven't a clue how much it cost, but it did make The Lygon's fare look rather penny pinching.

*** It played up a few weeks before I went on the Black Forest motorcycle tour, and subsided slowly over the following weeks.

Have we found a Troll?

Today is 30%'s birthday, so the day started with coffee in bed, followed by the opening of cards.

We spent a leisurely morning pottering around the house and TP turned up just after midday.  We all lunched together before TP and I headed out for a walk with the dogs.

We headed out as far as Pete the Beekeeper's house, and then turned to head home. On a whim I decided to head homeward via the footpath across the fields,* rather than my normal route along the lanes.  After a few hundred yards we came to a footbridge over the stream.  Hobson and The Rat charged across it, and headed off in to the next field.  Traitorous Bastard stepped on to the bridge and froze!  For some reason he was very perturbed by the wooden slats of the deck and would not cross. I tried calling him, but he was having none of it.  In the end I put his lead on and gave him a "heel" command.  This seemed to work and he crossed the bridge. His nervousness was still apparent, but at least his willingness to comply with the heel command overrode his apprehension and nervousness about the footbridge.

TB comes across as quite a confident dog, and this is the first time, since he came to live with us last May, that he has demonstrated apprehension on one of our walks.  In retrospect it is quite possible that he has never walked across a footbridge before today, or perhaps he sensed the presence of a Troll?**

This evening we headed over to The Arrow Mill for 30%'s birthday dinner.  We were a little apprehensive, as we had not eaten there for many years after receiving indifferent service and a truly terrible dessert.***  On this occasion I can report that the food was lovely and the service was great.  The terrible dessert was still on the menu, but I made a different selection.

So, I think we all had a relaxing Easter Sunday. It was nice to have TP join us to celebrate 30%'s birthday.

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* We have had reasonable weather for a while, and I was hopeful that the fields and footpath would now be dry underfoot. 

** They do, after all, like to take up residence under bridges

*** It was a coconut panna cotta that had a horrible grainy texture.  I abandoned it after one mouthful and did advise the waitress that it was terrible. She just shrugged and carried on clearing the table.

On the go

 Today I seemed to be on the go from the start.

After breakfast I headed out to choose a birthday card for 30% and get some fuel for the car. Normally I would have said "fill up the car," but the price of diesel has sky rocketed as a result of Trump and Netanyahus' little exercise. Consequently I shoved forty quids worth in the tank and preyed that sanity might prevail .... fat chance!

On my return I headed out for a walk with Hobson and TB. We returned with just enough time for me to have lunch before I was out again.

I spent a blustery couple of hours at Cotswold Shooting Ground attempting to hit some clays.  I was not very successful and my score was a paltry 36/80.

I headed home and settled on the sofa for a restorative nap, before lighting the fire and settling in for the evening.

In retrospect, I may have been "on the go" for a lot of the day, but the only worthwhile achievement was  the selection of a suitable card for 30%.

An Arsehole

 So, yesterday's Journal Entry was about Whiffler's arse cancer. Today's entry is about an arsehole.

Both 30% and her nephew, Oswald celebrate their birthdays in the first week of April.  30%'s brother always arranges a joint party as an excuse for a family get-together, and today was the day. 

The little gathering was fine. A great spread was laid on the table and Oswald was engrossed with his cards and gifts.  The family assembled and pleasantries were exchanged.

Everything was as agreeable as it could be,  considering the fifty two year age difference of the birthday girl and boy, and the very cramped conditions of the venue.  

Everything was going amicably until the black sheep of the family turned up ... 30%'s half sister.  Now I could go on for several pages about what a complete waste of fucking skin this individual is, but I will simply record one of her utterances that shows what a fucked up parasite she really is.

She was bemoaning the fact that her upcoming hip replacement will mean that her benefits are likely to be reduced, and went on to tell us exactly how much she manages to extract in benefits. The taxpayers among us were horrified when she announced that she had received a back payment of several thousand pounds in sickness benefit and advised that, "she had worked hard for that money."

Basically the lazy bitch's definition of working hard is filling in a few forms and blagging about her health.  Her poor health that is a result of years alcohol and drug abuse.

She's not an arsehole, she's a cunt!

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* She can still go to the gym regularly and seems to exhibit no mobility issues.

Arse Cancer

It is a joke in this house that any extremely irritating, and I mean EXTREMELY IRRITATING, person may be cursed with arse cancer.  Obviously this is not a serious wish, but just a way of reducing the level of extreme annoyance that some people trigger.  I can't think of anyone at the moment, but I am sure that if I thought hard enough I might find a global political figure towards whom this curse might be appropriate to launch.

This ridiculous and, possibly, bad taste joke came about when I was suspected of having prostate cancer last year. I know that it is a urogenital condition, but we all know how it is initially diagnosed. So, for a few weeks in 2025 I had a potential case of arse cancer.

So why am I rambling on about this today?

Well, this morning we took Whiffler down to the Vets for a follow-up consultation.  The Vet showed us his blood results, and all were perfect, apart from a very high calcium level ... a clear indicator of certain cancers.

She had suspected that it might be an anal gland tumour, and had emptied his anal glands last week. She re-checked today and thought she could feel a small lump. A colleague came in and confirmed the diagnosis, so there we have it ... Whiffler has arse cancer.

We discussed the two alternatives; palliative care, or surgery to remove the gland. In consideration of his age, the Vet agreed that either was appropriate, suggesting that he might have six months with palliative care, and maybe two years if the surgery was performed ... provided he had no other health issues.*

We went home to think about it, having been advised that any surgery should be performed promptly.**

It didn't take us long to decide that he should have the operation and he is booked in for the ninth of April.  We are well aware that he will probably only be with us for another year, at best, but he is still alert and moves well.  Removal of his anal gland is a straightforward procedure and will mean and end to the current symptoms.

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* He is already showing signs of arthritis, but is still moving well, and there are effective pain medications.

** We were also given an estimate of £750 for the surgery

Stump Removal, Phase 2

Hobson and Whiffler were booked in for a bath and clip today, so 30% headed off to drop them off with Sarah* just after breakfast.

I headed out for my usual walk, but this time I took Traitorous Bastard and The Rat.  I have to report that The Rat throughly enjoyed her excursion, but is nowhere near as well behaved as Hobson or TB.  She charges around like a thing possessed, and pays scant regard to requests to heel or come back.  It is fair to say that she had a great walk and even attempted to engage in play with TB.  TB was quite bemused by this.

In the afternoon I executed phase 2 of my stump removal project.  I took much the same approach as I did for phase 1.  I peeled back the turf and excavated the soil to expose the roots. On this occasion I encountered a couple of lateral roots that were far too large to be chopped out with an axe, and, after clearing away the soil, I broke out the chainsaw to cut them away from the stump. One was the size of my thigh and about 5' long. The other was slightly smaller, but still worthy of the Stihl.

I can report that another square yard of the root wad has been removed and I am now able to see a slight improvement in that area of the garden.**

30% collected Whiffler and Hobson in the afternoon. I can report that they both look splendid, but poor Whiffler was absolutely shattered after his day out.

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* Dot 'n Dave's daughter-in-law

** I've tried to turn a blind eye to the stump and root wad. It's a bloody eyesore, but I'm well aware that there are more important jobs to attend to.  Now I've started I'm very keen to progress and get it sorted.

Getting our ducks in a row

TP will be here at some point over the weekend and this is both welcome, and convenient.  Welcome, because we enjoy his company and are keen to catch up with his latest news, and convenient because I have two very heavy wooden gates that need to be turned around, so that I can oil the reverse sides.  We can then think about getting their installation arranged.

With TP arriving in a few days, today my focus was on applying the second and final coat of oil to the second gate.  I can report that this has now been completed, and I'm hoping that the gate should be dry by the time he turns up.

I also wandered up to the hives and added a pack of fondant to hives #2 and #3.  I still haven't performed a full inspection of the colonies yet.  I plan to do this during the next spell of warm weather. I can see that the queens are now busy building up the colonies, and I'm wondering how soon it will be before I'm adding queen excluders and supers.

Tree Stump Removal, Phase 1

Now that the grass has started growing, I am, again, having to manoeuvre the mower around the stump and root wad of the conifer that blew over during Storm Darragh.  

The stump and root wad is quite a feature in the front lawn ... an unwelcome feature.*  It needs to be dug out, but last year I focused on processing the trunk, branches and brash, leaving the stump for another day.

I think that day has finally arrived.

I am conscious that my back is playing up, and have decided that I am going to approach this job in small stages. Today I planned to peel back the turf from about a square yard of the root wad, cut out any roots projecting from the stump, level out the earth with the surrounding lawn, and relay the turf.

30% wisely suggested that I walk the dogs in the morning. I could then attack the root wad in the afternoon and then collapse on the sofa to recover.  I followed her advice and this afternoon saw me out on the lawn with a spade, and axe and a mattock.

I am pleased to report that the lawn feature is somewhat reduced in size, and the improvement has already got me planning phase two of this garden project ... I reckon phase four will be the stump grinder!

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* When the tree blew over it lifted about three square yards of lawn around the stump.  As the trunk was cut away, the root wad settled, but sits about a foot above the level of the lawn. Basically I have to dig out a large amount of earth, chop away any roots projecting from the stump, and level out the ground.  The final stage will be to hire a stump grinder to deal with the stump.

A lazy day

Yesterday's theatre trip meant that we didn't get home until close to midnight. Combining that with the loss of an hour, as a result of the transition to BST, meant that we both lacked energy and motivation today.

I did manage a walk in the afternoon, followed by a monumental kip, but that was about it.

Most definitely a lazy day.

A night at the theatre

A good chunk of today was spent bottling a couple of batches of honey, from the bucket I bought yesterday.

This last batch, from Pete, is a late Summer crop from 2025, and has set with a very coarse crystal structure. It is also incredibly sweet, and floral, compared to the previous buckets. It'll be interesting to see whether anyone comments on the change in flavour.

I can also report that the change in price hasn't seemed to dampen custom, as two jars were sold this morning at the new price.

In the afternoon I took my usual walk with the dogs and am slightly saddened to note that we have lost two of the Crested Cream Legbar hens today. Both seem to have been subject to feather pecking by the other birds. This is common, and they were clearly at the bottom of our little flock's pecking order.  30% and I plan to increase the size of the hen's run, in the hope that it will reduce the amount of bullying that takes place.

I can also report that we had a late night. 'Chelle joined us for an evening at The Hippodrome in Birmingham.  We went to see a performance of Priscilla Queen of The Desert, and had a fantastic time. It was the same show as the amateur production that we saw in Pershore back in 2024, but, obviously, performed by a different cast and production team. 

Both were brilliant, but I have to say that if I had to make a choice, I preferred the intimacy and joy of the PODS production. Its moments of madness were an absolute delight.

I've been expecting this

It is now almost two years since I first started to buy bulk honey from Pete, and resell it under my own branding.  I'm guessing that I have purchased a 30 lb bucket every six weeks, apart from the five or six months when I was selling the 125 lb crop I took at the end of May 2025. 

I suppose that I could search through previous Journal entries to come to a precise number of buckets, but that sounds like far too much trouble. Suffice to say, I am certain that I have bought a lot of honey from Pete over the past couple of years.

Now I am aware that Pete likes to hold a full year's harvest in reserve, in case he has a bad year.  He does, after all, have his own customers and outlets to support. I therefore came as no surprise that he was less keen than usual to sell me another bucket, when I contacted him this morning.

It seems that he has exhausted his 2024 stocks, and would need to supply me from his 2025 reserve.  We had a long chat and I made certain that he understood that I was a) very grateful for his support, and b) very aware that his bulk rate was well below market pricing.* Pete suggested that I should explore alternative suppliers, and consider raising my prices in an attempt to slow down sales a little.

The net result of this conversation is that I have increased my pricing by 25%,** changed my sign accordingly, used chat GPT to produce a customer friendly explanation for the price hike, and 30% has posted on the village FaceBook page to make our clientele aware.

I was a little concerned about increasing the price, but I do consistently forget to take account of the time I expend in caring for the colonies and bottling the honey.  After all, why shouldn't I get some recompense for my labours?  It was rewarding to see that one individual responded to 30%'s post by saying that £5 was still good value for local honey and "objectors" should buy the "sugar syrup of European origin sold as honey in the supermarkets"

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* Current bulk rate is around £3.50 per pound

** to £5 per 8oz jar