Channelling my inner Garbo?

 News of the reopening of The Shop must have spread. I sold another four jars of honey today and only need to shift another twenty one before I am in profit.*

The weather today was vile; cold and windy, and I only ventured outside for essential tasks. These included poultry management** and taking the dogs out for a pee. My only other achievement was that I finished the bottling of the honey and a total of fifty seven  8oz jars have been produced.

The rest of the day was leisurely. I read, snoozed and watched a little television. This evening we were joined by Bubbles and Bobbyn and we shared a takeaway from China Twon, before settling to a game of Cards against Humanity.

If I am honest, my heart really wasn't in it. I felt somewhat detached and disengaged, but could find no reason for feeling that way. I really would have preferred a quiet evening at home with 30% and the dogs.

As it says in the title of today's Journal entry perhaps I just vanted to be alone? 

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* I know that I am already in profit because of the money made on the buckets of honey I bought in September, June and April. Clearly I am talking about quarterly figures here.

** This sounds like I am doing something complicated. In real terms I give them clean water, put their feeder in the run and let them out of their coop. I then scuttle back to the warmth of the house.

Like hot cakes

My little road-side stall is known by the grandiose title; The Shop. One of the first jobs this morning was to re-stock The Shop and set it up outside the gate.*  In less than an hour our first jar of honey had been sold and I am hoping to shift more product to the New Year walkers.

I left The Shop to run itself, as 30% had volunteered our services to ferry TP to the airport ... he will be spending the New Year in Dublin. 

As we drove back from Birmingham, 30% suggested a short detour and we paid a visit to Becketts Farm Shop. One of my birthday presents was a pork butchery course and we spent a few minutes chatting with the butcher who runs the course. We now need to make some space in our freezer as the price of the course also includes the half pig that I will be butchering.

It was getting close to lunchtime so we had a light lunch at the on-site cafe, and also took a wander around Shirley Aquatics. We both love aquariums and, at some point in the future, we have promised ourselves that we will have another aquarium. The challenge will be getting it to coordinate with the decor of an eighteenth century half timbered cottage.

On our return I checked The Shop and was happy to find that another three jars had been sold. This prompted me to get another batch of honey to melt in the water bath, before I settled on the sofa for a snooze. 

Over the course of the afternoon I got two batches of honey filtered and bottled and my running total is forty one 8oz jars. I have finally worked out that my markup is about 112%. The means that I need to shift twenty nine jars before I'm making a profit.

It had better keep selling like hot cakes.

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* I ran out of honey at the beginning of December around the time Storm Darragh blew in.  The Shop was brought in off the verge and it has taken until now to get another bucket of honey from Pete. In the intervening weeks we have spent a lot of time at the front of the cottage dealing with the fallen/felled conifer, and a surprising number of passersby have asked when the honey will be on sale again.

My God! I've actually done something today.

On Friday evening Bubbles persuaded me to attend a small monthly clay shoot out at Childswickham. He has been chuntering on about it for a few months, so I finally gave in and agreed to attend.

This morning saw me out early. I would have said bright and early, but we had a leaden sky and the wind had a nasty nip. I picked up Bubbs in Evesham and we then headed over to Broadway to collect Ben. A few minutes later we pulled up on a verge on the outskirts of Childswickham and wandered down a farm track to the clay shoot.

I'm glad I'd kept my anticipation levels to a minimum as this was definitely nothing other than a haybaler.* I was presented with a row of traps along a the edge of a couple of fields and a pair of scruffy caravans that were the "shoot office". 

The morning was inexpensive and the clays were challenging, but I was underwhelmed by the experience and my spider senses detected that the chair and committee had established a club and shoot that was managed and controlled way beyond the level it needs to be.

Apparently my membership needs committee approval, after attending three shoots as a guest. To be honest, I don't give a shit whether they approve me, or not.

I was home by midday and thawed out about an hour later ... just in time for 30% and I to venture outside and clear the drainage gulley across the front gate. 

I then retired back inside and managed to filter and bottle a couple of batches of honey over the course f the afternoon. Today's output was 9lb, 8oz, which will be going on sale tomorrow.

I should also mention that TP's best friend Charles turned up and we had an initial planning session for a motorcycle trip through France and Belgium and on to the Black Forest. All being well, we should be going sometime in June or early July.

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* A small informal clay pigeon shoot. The term is derived from the shield of straw bales that are used to protect the trap operator from stray shots. Nowadays clay traps are automatic and are triggered by a hand-held remote control in the stand. Many years ago a trap operator needed to sit by the trap, listen for the call; "PULL", release the clay in to the air, and reset the trap for the next shot.

Ongoing inactivity

 The Christmas inertia continued today.

I did manage to replace the reflector on the rear corner of the Defender and, surprisingly, it took longer to fit a self-adhesive reflector than it did to replace both the indicator and the fog light.  I had to use a heat gun to remove the original adhesive strip and there was much faffing around with T-cut and alcohol spray to clean off the residue. I also had to give it a couple of considered whacks with a panel beating hammer to straighten the panel. before I could apply the new reflector.

Not a lot else was achieved, although Beekeeper Pete called in and exchanged a 30lb bucket of honey for £70 Stirling.  It looks like a) I'll be bottling honey for the next few days and b) my little roadside stall will be open for business again!

Roll on twelfth night

I am mired in that dreadful dead zone between Christmas and the New Year.  The house remains decorated and the kitchen is still crammed with food. It almost seems as if one is obligated to veg in front of stale TV offerings, or mingle with friends and relatives. It makes me feel quite constrained.*

I am glad that the Big Day is over and, within a few short days, the food will be gone, the cards will be taken down and normal life can resume. You see, the thing is, I really like my normal life.  I don't need the excuse of a Christian celebration to have a good time. I have a pretty good time most days. Roll on twelfth night.

Over the past few days the components for the Defender have trickled in and over the past couple of days I have fitted the indicator and fog light. It's a bloody good job I've fitted the latter as we have been blanketed in thick fog over Christmas and Boxing Day. I really wouldn't have wanted to drive without a working rear fog light.

This evening we were joined by Bubbles and Bobbyn for supper. Gifts were exchanged and we had a lovely time. We'll be seeing them again on New Year's Eve ... I think it will be a traditional Chinese takeaway from China Twon.

---

* I remember one year, possibly 2009, I decorated the smallest bedroom in the interval between Christmas and the New Year.  Apparently, based on the reaction of 30%, it was not the done thing to make good use of the holiday.

Now we can relax

I was up before most of the household, although I could hear Mr & Mrs Tweedy having an early morning cuppa in their room.

After a couple of cups of coffee I wandered up to the orchard and let out the chickens. On my return I gazed at the kitchen which looked more like the worst parts of Syria and Gaza than a room for preparing food. I couldn't cope with the mess, so sleeves were rolled up and order was restored. It took the best part of an hour, but 30% was well impressed when she eventually wandered downstairs.

We all sat down to a late breakfast which extended in to elevenses, so the Christmas carrot cake was finally sampled ... it is quite fabulous; rich, most and indulgent with that cream cheese icing. Mr & Mrs Tweedy left shortly before lunch and we did little else for the rest of the day.

The ham finally got sliced in the evening and I think 30% brought out every pickle in the house as a potential accompaniment! There was TP's lime pickle, my own pickled beetroot and beetroot chutney plus a range of commercial chutneys and pickles. 

It tastes divine!

I think I just seasoned it lightly. It was far too good to overpower with pickle!

Christmas Eve

Obviously the plan for today was to ensure that the house was tidy and that all Christmas preparations were complete ... well, it's fair to say that most of the Christmas preparations were completed ... the critical ones anyway. As for an orderly and clean domestic environment that'll have to wait until tomorrow morning.

This is how the day panned out.  First activity this morning was to get the honey roast ham* on to platter, covered and in the refrigerator. I then bagged up and froze the water it had been cooked in, as it makes the most fantastic pork stock ... perfect for soups.

I then continued with general clearance activities until 30% asked me if I had received my tax rebate. I had a few minutes to spare, so I checked ... My account balance was not as magnificent as expected, as the buggers at His Majesty's Revenue & Customs had clearly failed to hand over my cash. I ten spent ten minutes going round in circles with the HMRC on-line help before picking up the phone. I then spent thirty minutes talking to a lovely lady in Glasgow and, after much fiddling with my tax record, it looks like I should get my rebate in the next couple of weeks.

As I finished speaking to HMRC, Bobbyn turned up and we took the dogs for a walk down the lane. At this time of year the lanes are disgusting and the dogs were filthy by the time we returned. Fortunately TP was on-hand to assist with washing and drying the mutts, and they were soon settled in their beds.

In the afternoon I finally wrapped my Christmas gifts and then had a massive kip. For some strange reason I was absolutely exhausted and didn't feel much better on waking. 

Final task of the day was to ice the Christmas carrot cake. I eventually decided to go with my original cream cheese icing recipe and the resultant masterpiece is now taking up a lot of space in the fridge.

Christmas cake is nice,
but Christmas carrot cake is really nice

30% and I had planned to wander down the lane to join in the carol service on the village green. However we were both so exhausted that we settled for sausage and mash on our knees in front of the TV and an early night.

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* Honey Roast Ham

• Place the ham in a large lidded saucepan - I use a stock pot or jam kettle
• Cover with water and add 3 peeled and coarsely chopped onions, two or three sticks of chopped celery, three or four sliced carrots, a few black peppercorns and half a dozen bayleaves.
• Boil the ham for about 35 minutes per kilo
• Once cooked, transfer the ham to a roasting pan
• carefully remove and discard the skin
• score the fat in a diamond pattern and insert a clove in to each of the diamonds
• Once the ham has been studded with cloves, gently sprinkle and rub in a few handfuls of soft brown sugar
• trickle over half a jar of good quality honey and place it in a fan oven pre-heated to 170℃
• After about twenty minutes, baste the ham with the juices that have collected in the pan and pour over the remaining honey
• continue to bake for about another twenty minutes until the ham is a beautiful golden brown

Mmmm!

Sixty One

Today is my birthday. It's not the best time of year to celebrate one's anniversary, as there is a somewhat all encompassing Commercial/Christian event that tends to happen about this time too!  This year I promise that I won't witter on about it. If you want to see how I feel about Christmas, or my birthday, use the search bar.

So how did today go? After the early morning chores we headed over to the Oak at Upton Snodsbury and had a very pleasant breakfast at their Twisted Spoon cafe.

30% and I then headed in to Alcester to pick up a few items from the Supermarket, and to pay a visit to Specsavers. 30% has decided that she needs a pair of varifocal specs following her cataract surgery.  She soon had a pair sorted and, on impulse, I decided that varifocals might be beneficial for me too, as I find it a real pain to identify the car controls without my reading glasses. Unfortunately I can't drive in my reading glasses ... that would be disastrous! The net result is that we both should have new specs early in the New Year.

The afternoon was taken up with a lengthy kip and another birthday tradition. Every year I prepare a honey roasted ham for the Christmas period, and the late afternoon and early evening were taken up with boiling and roasting of a six kilo gammon joint. 

This evening's dinner was provided courtesy of TP. He cooked a rather interesting Malaysian spiced mutton stew. 

So that was my birthday, nothing huge happened, but I had a lovely day. Cards and gifts were opened and it looks like I might be riding my old Enfield up the Shelsey Walsh Hill Climb course in July and also attending a pork butchery course later in the year too.

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* or, if you are privileged to have access to the printed version of the Journal, take a look at the December entries in earlier volumes. 

A new Christmas/Birthday tradition?

 I was up early again today as Bubbles, Ben and I had arranged to go Pike Fishing.  This is looking like it will become a Christmas tradition for us after our first outing for my birthday in 2023.

Anyway, back to today. By eight o'clock the Defender was crammed with rods and tackle and a hastily prepared packed lunch was  thrown on to the passenger seat. I was soon trundling down the road to Barton over the recently repaired Bidford Bridge.*

The river was very high as a result of recent rain and our original plan to fish below Barton weir had to be abandoned. In the end we found a peg by the little marina and eventually settled to fish. The skies were clear and blue, but there was a cold wind. Our hands were freezing and the simplest task was challenging with numb fingers. Attaching a wire pike trace to monofilament line in the cold windy conditions was akin to attempting microsurgery whilst off-roading. As for attaching dead bait to the trace, that was equally tricky.

Eventually we got our bait in the water and spent an agreeable few hours talking nonsense and failing to catch anything at all. A little after midday the skies darkened and a cold rain started to fall. That was the perfect excuse for us to pack up and head home to thaw out.

So that was Sunday. I did manage to guess what my birthday present was from Bubbles within 30 seconds of being handed it.** I should point out that this is an ongoing competition and I am currently winning on points!

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* A grade 1 listed 15th Century bridge. It is single lane and is the only crossing of the Avon between Evesham and Welford-on-Avon. It is regularly closed for repairs as a result of damage by vehicles that are far too large to use it. This Autumn's closure was as a result of an Uber driver that, somehow, managed to wedge his car between the parapets of the bridge.

** It is a wrapped cylinder; 6" in diameter and about 48" in length. Obviously a fishing umbrella!

That's bloody annoying!

 I was up and out early this morning as Bubbles had persuaded me to take part in the Christmas Shoot at Cotswold Shooting Ground. I met up with Bubbs, Bobbyn and Ben just before nine o'clock and we were smashing clays not long after. The wind, my lack of talent and not having shot since early August made many of the targets challenging, but I was reasonably pleased with my score of 39/80.

Back at home I lunched with TP and then headed over to the local feed supplies store to pick up a couple of wire traces ... we have planned a pike fishing outing for tomorrow.

On my return I found that all of the parking spaces on the drive had been taken up by TP, 30% and Jules. I attempted to park considerately, so that Jules could get her car off the drive and ended up reversing the Defender in to the gate.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck! The gate is fine, but I have managed to smash the rear indicator, the rear fog light and a rear reflector. There is no paint damage although there may be a minor bend at the rear corner ... nothing that a gentle tap with a soft hammer can't restore.

I then needed to spend a happy hour scouring the internet for replacement parts and, as it says in the title of today's entry, I found the episode fucking annoying.

Next time I'll leave the damned thing in the middle of the drive and the fuckers can move it themselves when they want together out.

Can't be bothered

 Not a lot to report for today. 

I have to admit that, the closer it gets to Christmas, the more unenthusiastic I feel. It may be the result of a very busy Autumn, followed by a quite energetic holiday, a case of food poisoning and dealing with a fallen tree, but I am now at the point where I really can't be arsed to do anything!

I had two things on my virtual to do list for today. Both were Alcester based activities. First was a trip to Screwfix to pick up a Christmas present for TP, then I popped in to the butchers in search of a gammon joint. Fortunately I found the perfect joint and this will be boiled and honey roasted in the next couple of days.

And, as for the rest of the day; the weather was cold, drizzly and grey and I really could not be bothered to do anything other than curl up and finish my book.* At one point I did head outside with good intentions, but demotivation struck very quickly and I was soon back on the sofa.

TP arrived home just before seven o'clock and will be here, intermittently,** until twelfth night.

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* Masquerade by Terry Pratchett

** Diverse socialising, a visit to his Mother and a New Year in Dublin to name but a few of his planned activities

Warning!

 Do not walk in to your wife's favourite independent jeweller at this time of year without having a clear Christmas gift idea.

I've warned you. Just don't!

That'll do

 I wandered out to the remnants of the fallen conifer with every intention of splitting the last couple of sections of tree trunk. However, after a frustrating hour I gave up. I had managed to split off a few more logs, but the last few chunks of wood had contorted grain patterns and just wouldn't break apart.

I suppose I could borrow a log splitter, but that seems like a lot of effort for a dozen more logs, at best. If I take a step back and look at the large heap of split wood and the few unsplit chunks then "that'll do".

I did very little for the rest of the day apart from a visit to the local surgery for my annual diabetic review. They seem quite happy with my results with great scores for blood pressure* and cholesterol, as always I could do with loosing a few pounds.**

After more than fifty years as a type 1 diabetic,  I still have good eyesight and can still feel a feather on my feet ... I'm doing ok.

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* for someone my age

** few!

I've had enough now

 I'm getting somewhat bored with the conversion of a fallen tree in to firewood and also the documentation of the aforementioned activity. Christ knows how anyone reading this feels about it?

So, guess what I did this morning? Yep, I was out on the front lawn with the saw horse, splitting maul and chainsaw. I spent the morning dealing with the last few sections of the tree. By lunchtime I was both bored and tired and decided to call it a day. There are still a couple of sections of the trunk that need splitting, but they are filled with large knots. I know that they will be an utter pig to split and it's just not worth hiring a log splitter for the last few pieces of wood. I think that they will be a nice addition to a bonfire at some point next year.

As I type this the garden and verge are now relatively clear of storm debris.  There is a large pile of mulched conifer on the verge and the corner of the front garden is home to a large pile of split logs.  The stump and attached root ball protrude from the lawn at a jaunty angle, but they can bloody stay there until the weather improves ... if I'm honest, I don't really have a plan, but Grubby Jason mentioned the possibility of coming over with a tele handler in the Summer and lifting the stump out.

That's better than anything I can come up with and "NO, I'm not digging the hole out for a pond!"

Nearly finished

The verge at the front of the cottage looks relatively clear now the conifer brash has been shredded, and piled up on our boundary with the neighbouring field.

However we are left with a pile of branches ranging in diameter from three to eight inches. Today I brought out the chainsaw and saw horse and spent a good part of the day converting them in to logs. I also discovered a few sections of tree trunk, so the splitting maul was also brought in to play. The last couple of hours of the afternoon were spent splitting the larger logs in to manageable chunks.

30% was on-hand to assist with the removal of the logs. These are now stacked in one of our log stores and they should dry out over the next few months.

By the end of the afternoon the front verge is now free of debris, with just the pile of chipped confer the only evidence of a fallen tree. Tomorrow will see me back in the front garden to split and saw the last few sections of trunk.*

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* I am not looking forward to this task. These are large, knotty sections that I had already attempted to split last Wednesday. If they didn't split after a couple of assaults with the maul, they were cast aside on to a pile of rejects. I now have no excuse, but to persevere with these awkward , bloody things!

One step forward ...

... two steps back.

I must admit that this is how things feel at the moment. The tree that fell last Saturday and the bloody mess left behind by the drainage contractors have left us with a lot of work to do. The thing is that we can find plenty to occupy ourselves without have the unexpected and the badly managed dump more on our plate.

I'm not really complaining. I know that the mess in the garden will be rectified and recover in a few months and that we are capable of dealing with the fallen tree. I just wish that sometimes we could amble towards Christmas in a leisurely fashion, rather than have a heap of non-festive things to do.

I appreciate that there has been no Journal entry since Thursday, so here's a quick summary of what I've been up to.

Friday, 13th December, 2024

Well, considering the date, today went reasonably smoothly. 

By nine o'clock I had the pressure washer connected up and spent a good half an hour cleaning the thick layer of mud from the path to the front door and the worst of it from the drive. We can now let the dogs out without them returning caked in filth. 

The mini excavator and dumper truck were collected and their removal left another scattering of clay across the drive. 30% applied herself to this and did a damned good job, considering the state of the drive. We both agreed that we really need to properly clean the block paving as soon as the weather improves.

The rest of the day was spent processing the brash from the fallen conifer.  After Sunday's tree felling we ended up with a huge pile of brash on the verge outside the cottage. The pile was about 40' in length, 8' wide and chest high. The day was spent cutting this in to manageable lengths, and stacking it in preparation for the arrival of the chipper.

We were hoping that the chipper would arrive early so that we could make a start on the brash, but it was near dark before the little green monster was delivered. Oh well, we'll be nice and fresh to make an early start tomorrow.

Saturday, 14th December, 2024

It will come as no surprise that we spent a good chunk of today feeding conifer brash in to the chipper. I also think we provided some form of entertainment for the dog walkers and riders that passed by.

We needed to pace ourselves as we had arranged to meet up with B&H in Worcester this evening for a meal at a Greek restaurant. As a consequence we worked until three o'clock and then called it enough for the day. We had quite an impact on the pile of brash and I estimate that we will get it finished by lunchtime tomorrow ... provided that we get to bed at a reasonable time.

We had a lovely evening with great food and great company. We also finalised the dates for our next narrow boating holiday and 30% will get that booked early next week. We plan to do the Mid-Worcestershire ring in the week lead up to Good Friday, 2025.

Sunday, 15th December. 2025

It was another early start and we fed the last of the brash in to the chipper shortly before lunch. We are both relieved to have reduced a mountain of brash to a large pile of shredded material. Several passers-by have expressed an interest in taking some of this mulch, so hopefully that will disappear in the next few days. The larger tree limbs will need to be sawn and split, but that too can wait until later in the week. 

The only other thing of import was that I gave the bees another pack of candy each. I took a quick peep under to the hive roofs on Friday and each has consumed the best part of a kilo of candy in the past six weeks. I must remember to check again towards the end of January to ensure that they don't go short of food.

As mentioned, we had finished shredding the brash by lunchtime and we both indulged ourselves with a huge afternoon kip. We still have work to do, but the pressure is off. All of the smaller branches have been shredded and we have no further need of the chipper ... until the contractors come to remove the conifer in the orchard that is too close to our electricity supply.

That's quite enough for now

 This morning I headed out early to pick up a couple of bags of layers pellets, some petrol for the chipper and a few essentials from the supermarket. The errands took a little over an hour and I arrived home to see that the drainage contractors were doing their best to cover everything with a thick layer of sticky clay.

Whilst the two lads who have done the work have been brilliant, we are not overly happy with the way the job has been designed and costed. A mini excavator and dumper truck have been costed in, but the site is so wet that all digging and spoil removal has had to be done by hand.  Three tonnes of the wrong type of aggregate has been delivered and then removed. The original drainage design included an attempt to get water to run uphill and the list goes on.

Basically the work that has been done has been perfectly good, but that is down to the two chaps on-site. They took one look at the job specification and then decided to make some major modifications, so that the ditches and drainage will should work.  

It is fair to say that we have had some lengthy and fairly heated conversations with one of the managers about how good their on-site team are, but how appalling their scheduling and solution design were.

The ground is so wet that there is absolutely no chance of them finishing off the work to our satisfaction, so it has been agreed that they will leave the garden as tidy as possible and return in the Spring, once the ground has dried sufficiently.  

The main problem is the low berm that borders the boundary ditch.  This is a vital part of the ditch to ensure we have sufficient depth and capacity to handle the run off from the upslope field. Unfortunately the berm got damaged during the excavations and needed to be restored. It is now topped by an uneven pile of sodden spoil that will need to be smoothed and profiled with a mini excavator. Unfortunately that part of the garden is way too wet to support machinery, so it'll be like that until next Spring.

As I said yesterday, "it'll recover ... eventually."

It'll recover ... eventually

 I'm finally recovered from the stomach bug and am now relatively confident to stray further than a hundred yards from the house.

However, a week of living off very limited quantities of toast and marmite has left me with an alimentary canal that needs to be restarted ... gently. I don't think a huge curry would be the ideal thing to eat for a week, or two. Apparently your stomach doesn't shrink when you reduce your food intake. That may be true, but I am finding that I get that full feeling after not a lot of food.

On the home front the drainage work continues and Luke and Aaron are doing their very best to prevent the garden from looking like the Somme. The French drain has now been dug across the back lawn and pipes have been laid and levelled. They even made a start on backfilling the trenches with pea gravel before the gathering gloom put an end to their labours. They should be finished tomorrow, provided that aggregate and top soil deliveries arrive on time.

As for me, I spent a good chunk of the day sawing and splitting logs. It's hard work, but strangely satisfying to see my log pile grow and the sections of tree slowly reduce. We still have a large pile of brash to deal with, but 30% has re-hired the chipper for next weekend and the weather forecast is favourable. It looks like it will be a busy couple of days.

I was going to say that the garden will then be back to normal, but it's probably going to take a while to recover from a fallen tree and the extensive ditching and drainage work.

I did say the garden got very wet

 It was another eye appointment this morning or, more accurately, the rescheduled appointment after last week's screw up. This appointment was marginally better in that it happened, but the doctor managed to already be twenty minutes behind schedule at a quarter to nine in the morning.  

The outcome of the examination was that my intraocular pressure is reduced ... a good thing and an alternative regime has been suggested to reduce the eyelid inflammation.

I arrived home at around ten o'clock and was pleased to see that our drainage contractors were already hard at work with a mini excavator and dumper truck. They are really pleasant, hard working chaps and, as soon they established how wet the ground was,* they decided that hand digging the various trenches was a far better idea.

By the end of day one they had completed the work on the main boundary ditch and dug out the trenches for the French drain around the older parts of the property.

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* I'm no expert, but I think it was the point where the dumper truck got bogged down and the excavator threw a track off ... i.e. "the machines are out of action, lets grab a couple of spades."

A full agenda

 Today was supposed to be a busy day. Our power supply was due to be turned off, in order that contractors could remove a problem tree in the orchard. Also; our drainage contractor was due on-site to start the ditch and French drain construction.

We prepared as much as possible. Water was boiled and thermos flasks were filled. A camping stove was set up in the kitchen and sensitive devices were switched off. We were as ready as we could be.

As it turned out, our preparations were mostly in vain. The tree felling was, understandably, cancelled, as emergency grid repairs following the storm were prioritised. Our power supply was uninterrupted. 

As for the drainage contractors; a large articulated lorry arrived just before nine o'clock and unloaded a mini excavator and dinky little dumper truck. A short while later a contractor arrived and unloaded the mats that are used to minimise damage to the ground. While he was on site, a building supplies truck turned up and unloaded three tonne bags of pea gravel and a pallet of pre-mixed concrete.

And that was it. Apparently a couple of lads were due on-site later in the day to start the works, but it seems that they were held up on another job. It was, therefore, a much quieter day than expected.

I kept myself busy for most of the day with a splitting maul, working on the felled conifer. At the end of the day I had a blister, a sore back and a fair sized pile of logs. I felt reasonably pleased with my efforts until I glanced at the mountain of brash and the sections of trunk and branch that are yet to be processed. I know for a fact that some of that wood is going to be an utter bastard to split ... where's my chainsaw?

Tree Felling

 I'm still not feeling right, but there was a 30' fallen conifer that needed to be attended to!

30% and I made a plan of action. I went out to the workshop, adjusted and fuelled the chainsaw and, eventually, got it started. In the meantime 30% reached out to TP and Bubbles to see if they could help, and also contacted Hedgelayer Tom* to see if he could assist.

30% reported back that TP would be over in a short while and that Tom would pop over at around one o'clock. It looked like we had the beginnings of a plan.

We then headed out to make a start on the tree. It had fallen across the hedge and the top half was now blocking the gateway of the neighbouring field. That was where we started. I was on chainsaw duties and 30% assisted by clearing the brash away. It was quite a struggle as I was literally fighting my way in to the upper half of a dense conifer in order to remove the side branches and gain access to the trunk.

We persevered and, bit-by-bit, the trunk started to appear. After about an hour we were joined by TP and Bubbles, and we really started to make headway. By lunchtime we had managed to saw the top 15' of the tree in to manageable pieces and pile them up.

We just had the lower half of the trunk to deal with and Tom was the man for that. He has far more skill and experience in this area than I, and he has a much bigger chainsaw!

Tom turned up as promised and, after the usual rambling conversation, got started on the tree. I was excused as I was, and still am, feeling shit. In about three hours the tree trunk and branches was sawn into 10" slices, that were neatly piled up against the hedge. Tom lightened my wallet to the tune of a hundred quid** and headed off in to the dusk.

We are both pretty exhausted after a busy day and the next few are probably going to be similar. The wood now needs to be split in to logs and stacked somewhere to season.

---

* Tom is a local contractor who works in forestry and hedge laying. He laid three of our hedges here at the cottage in the first couple of years after we moved in. One of the hedges was so poor that it should have been more accurately described as a row of widely spaced hawthorn trees. After three and half years it is now a beautiful hedge after his careful ministrations. He is an eccentric, but, my world, he is amazing with a chainsaw.

** Bargain! Remember a) it was Sunday and b) Forestry experts are in high demand after a storm ... mates rates

Storm Darragh

I'm still not recovered from the food poisoning and, as a consequence, am taking things very easy at the moment.

Storm  Darragh has blown in overnight and my brief excursion to let out the chickens was enough weather for one day. The winds are incredible and accompanied by a cold stinging rain. It is definitely an indoors sort of day.

Midway through the afternoon I wandered into the living room and something in the front garden caught my eye ... we now seem to have a ten foot wide crater featuring the underside of a tree trunk. The large pine tree has been felled by the wind.  Fortunately it has fallen away from the house and is now leaning at a jaunty angle supported by the hedge.

It looks like I'll have a few days out there with the chainsaw next week.*

The storm continued to blow and our broadband connection failed later in the day. I reported the fault via BTs web portal and an engineer is needed. This is going to take a few days and a 4G mini hub is being posted to provide an interim service.

---

* I  will actually have two conifers to turn in to logs as National Grid are sending out a contractor** on Monday to fell a pine in the orchard that is too close to our power line.
** provided they are not diverted to deal with storm damage

The invisible chain

 Things are pretty much the same on the health front. I am somewhat lacking in energy and there are occasional bouts of stomach cramps. As for "the invisible chain" that is the one that restricts me to no more than thirty or forty yards from the house!*

I had a fairly lazy day, but managed to complete the cataloguing of our holiday photos. TP turned up at lunchtime for an overnight stay and I spent a good amount of time catching up on his news. 

He has a project that he's been researching for a good few months and we spent an hour, or two, out in the garage working out the best way to cut and assemble aluminium extrusion in to a sound cart for moving key components around studios and other film locations. 

I have already mentioned that the previous owner of the cottage left a huge quantity of stuff behind when she left, and one item was a horizontal band saw. It seems that it will be pressed in to use, once we get a new blade installed and properly adjusted.

30% had arranged for us to go and see a burlesque show this evening, but there was no chance of me leaving the house ... see title of today's Journal entry. This was very disappointing, as who wouldn't want to see attractive, near naked ladies dancing?  

I suppose, in retrospect, it might not be everyone's cup of tea, but 30% and Mummy Sheila said it was a quite fantastic evening ... Bugger! ... sad face :-(

---

* or, to be more specific, the lavatory

Duvet day

I'm not well. 

I woke early, dressed and felt as weak as the proverbial kitten. I carefully negotiated my way downstairs, where I managed to make and drink a cup of coffee. I then fell asleep on the sofa and woke around eight o'clock, feeling no better. At this point I thought I had better wander up the orchard to attend to the chickens. This minor effort exhausted me and I returned to the settee bolloxed!

I did nothing today other than alternate between sleeping and trips to the bathroom. My diet has been toast and marmite, and not in large quantities.

This doesn't make very interesting reading, so I'll tell a tale from last week.  On occasion I do like to pull 30%'s leg and I had her hooked with this little narrative.

I had her convinced that hedgehogs shed their spines in the Autumn and then grow a new set in the Spring.  I think I may have gone too far when I embellished this bullshit by saying that the, now spine free, hedgehogs then burrow beneath the soil and spend the Winter as moles.

She twigged that I was talking utter crap and pointed out that this was probably the reason why TP was putting off starting a family. Apparently these tall tales are not to be told to gullible grandchildren.

Pharaoh's Revenge

This morning I was up and out of the door by half past seven, for an appointment at the eye clinic at eight thirty. I wandered in to the clinic reception, ten minutes in advance of my appointment time, checked in and chose a seat in the waiting area.

At that time in the morning the clinic was very quiet and the pendulum of time swung slowly. At a quarter to nine I wandered up to the reception desk and asked what the expected wait time was, as I had other appointments to attend.

At this point the receptionist deigned to inform me that the doctor hadn't yet arrived and she had no idea of when he would be on-site. I firmly expressed my dissatisfaction, advising that they should allow adequate time for their home to work journey and this was nothing other than rudeness and poor customer service. At this point little miss sunshine advised me that the doctor had a three hour journey in to work. At his point my mental gears ground. This meant that the doctor was getting on to the road at about five thirty to stand a chance of making the appointment time. The gears ground a little more and I wondered "did I really want an eye examination from someone who had got up in the middle of the night and battled motorway traffic to peer in to my eyes?". The answer is obviously "NO". I do not want some totally stressed out. road rage infected crazy attempting to improve an ongoing eye condition. I want a doctor that is relaxed and on top form giving me an accurate diagnosis and treatment path.

I declined to wait and insisted on another appointment, that their doctor might actually get their shit together and make the effort to turn up.

The rest of the day was the normal post-holiday activities of unpacking, washing and so forth. As the day went on I started to feel not quite right, and this progressed to definitely not right by the late afternoon. It seems that I have picked up a stomach bug. My evening was spent huddled on the sofa enduring waves of stomach cramps and intense fatigue.

I really do not feel well.

Homeward bound

GMT +2

03.00 get up
03.15 hotel check out
03.30 taxi to airport
04.10 airport check in
06.00 flight in to Cairo
09.20 connecting flight to Heathrow

GMT

12.25 land at Heathrow
14.00 finally find the right car park and head towards the M40
16.00 arrive home
17.00 Tesco for essential pork based foodstuffs
18.00 collect the dogs
18.20 finally we're all back home


A final thought on EgyptAir "this plane is so shitty, it wouldn't surprise me if it just fell out of the air somewhere over Europe". Seriously, it is like the worst minicab I have ever been in!

Our last day in Aswan

 It's our last day in Aswan and, after a leisurely breakfast,  we headed off down the Corniche that borders the Nile. Our destination was a small Ptolemaic temple dedicated to ISIS that was about a mile from our hotel. It was an easy walk and we found the temple in a fenced, dusty depression encircled by apartment buildings.

It was petite, compared to the  likes of Edfu, and was probably no more than 30m square.  After exploring this fun sized monument we headed back towards the hotel, taking a diversion through the public gardens next to the old cataract hotel.  We paused for coffee there and took in the rather fine view of the temple ruins at the southern end of Elephantine island.

We then headed back to the Obelisk hotel and relaxed by the pool. I read and 30% sunbathed. 

Our last excursion was a trip over to Elephantine for a late lunch/early dinner at the King Jamaica restaurant ... a rather tasty Egyptian mixed grill with Nubian mint tea to wash it down.

Then it was back to the hotel to pack, watch our last sunset and a final G&T on the terrace.  We were both in bed before nine as we have a horrifically early start tomorrow morning. 

Day of rest

 Sunday was another lazy day.  We lazed by the pool in the morning, basking in the warm sun and continuing with my holiday read.

After a late, and quite disappointing, lunch we headed out and down the Corniche. Within a few minutes we had struck a deal with one of the locals and had hired a felucca for a couple of hours.

Our Nubian captain was a little eccentric* and seemed to be constantly chattering with himself and then breaking off to engage with us in broken, but adequate English. 

We pulled out into the current and tacked northward around Elephantine island before landing at Kitchener's island. There we spent a pleasant half hour walking through the rather fine botanical garden. A local lad adopted us and was a rather good guide. His approach was to offer us crushed fragrant leaves of various plants and then ask us to guess what plants they came from.

It was a great multi sensory experience that we both really enjoyed and, most surprisingly, he refused a tip at the end of the mini tour.

We returned to our felucca and our captain piloted us up the cataract to the west of Elephantine island.  The sun was setting as we passed the mausoleum of the Aga Khan on the crest of a low hill on the west bank. It was a fine sight in the fading light with feluccas sailing in the foreground. 

We sailed around the southern tip of Elephantine island as the sky darkened and our last few downstream tacks were in darkness.

Despite it being another lazy day we were both exhausted by the end of it. Dinner plans were revised and we just had a rather good steak at the hotel's Italian restaurant. 

---

* I later worked out that he was just very stoned.

Kom Ombo & Edfu

 This morning we met our guide; Mustapha in the hotel reception and then headed out to meet our driver.

Our plan for today was to visit the Ptolemaic temples at Kom Ombo and Edfu. Kom Ombo was our first stop about 45 km North of Aswan. It was a magnificent sight against a bright blue sky and we spent more than an hour exploring. The temple is unusual in that it is dedicated to two gods; Horus, the falcon headed God and Sobek, the crocodile headed deity. We also popped in to the Crocodile Museum on site. This small museum displays many mummified crocodiles and other offerings made in honour of Sobek.

It was then another 65 km drive further North to Edfu. The temple is even more magnificent than the one at Kom Ombo and is beautifully preserved as a result of being virtually covered by the desert sands. It has an impressive pylon entrance leading to a courtyard and hypostile halls.  My words will not do it justice, but it is a fascinating and quite beautiful site.  One cannot be anything other than awed by the skill and artistry of those who designed, organised and constructed this temple over two thousand years ago.

Mustapha lives in Edfu, so we left him there and our driver returned us to Aswan. I'd like to recount the drive back along the desert road, but I slept through most of it, waking as we entered the outskirts of the city.

Lazy day

 Today was a lazy day. 30% sunbathed by the pool and I alternated between reading a book* and watching the Feluccas** sail up and down the Nile.

A gin and tonic was sipped on the terrace as the sun set and then we tidied ourselves before heading into town for some traditional fare.

We'll be back to temples tomorrow. 

---

* Mythos by Stephen Fry

** A traditional wooden sailing boat.

Abu Simbel

 Today was a day that I had been looking forward to for many years. A trip to see the temples at Abu Simbel.

We were outside our hotel at 4.00 a.m. and things went downhill from there. A tourist bus rolled up and called 30%'s name. We clambered in and set off. After about forty minutes the driver's companion took a phone call and, in very broken English, asked if 30% was an Italian lady called Serena! We said "no" and he said we had misunderstood him.

The bus turned around and headed back to our hotel. More calls took place before we were invited back onto the bus and our journey resumed. It took three hours to cover the 280 km to Abu Simbel plus the forty minutes to head back to Obelisk Hotel. We haven't got a clue what had happened, so decided to try to go with the flow.

We eventually arrived at Abu Simbel at nine o'clock and it was packed. There were people and tourist buses everywhere. It was a stark contrast to the mellow experience at Philae yesterday.

We wandered down the slope to the temples and got our first view of their magnificent facades. Hordes of people milled in front of them like ants. Our guide gave us a quick overview of what we would see and gave us about forty minutes to view the temple. We were concerned that this wasn't enough time, but we were wrong.  We would have liked to have spent more than an hour in there but it was rammed with people ... literally a rugby scrum. It was virtually impossible to take a photo as we were jostled and barged. I put my camera away and tried to make memories instead.

Abu Simbel temple,
with careful editing of the hordes

The smaller temple was no different and by ten thirty we were back in the bus, tired and a little disappointed. 

We were both glad we got to see the temples, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. The crowded and noisy environment really diminished the splendour and marvels of Egyptian monumental architecture. 

If we were to do it again we would stay overnight in Abu Simbel city and view the temples later in the day when the crowds thin significantly. 

Health alert

 My vitamin P and H* levels have plummeted to dangerously low levels and I am concerned that I may need to seek treatment at a secular medical centre.

Alternatively, a pigs in blanket suppository might work if administered by a suitably qualified practitioner. 

---

* methylated protein chains found predominantly in pork products. A good source of vitamin P is a pork pie and bacon is a rich source of vitamin H.

The Philae Temple and other sights

 It was an early start this morning. We were up, dressed and breakfasted by half past six as 30% had arranged for us to be picked up by our tour guide a little after seven.

Today our itinerary included the temple at Philae, the Aswan High Dam, the unfinished obelisk and a boat trip through the first Nile cataract followed by a visit to the Nubian village with afternoon tea.

Our guide; Mustapha was charming and friendly and his narratives at the sites were splendidly informative; ranging from broad narrative to delightful, amusing little nuggets. We can now tell the difference between the cartouches of Hathor and Isis!*

Philae temple was beautiful and quite fantastic. It took ten years for it to be rescued and relocated after the original island was flooded by the creation of lake Nasser in the 1970's. Clearly it was a monumental effort to achieve this, but the original construction with little more than iron tools and manual labour is mind boggling!

Philae temple, Aswan

A boat ferried us to and from Philae and the we were chauffeured over to the Aswan High Dam to take in the views; South over Lake Nasser stretching 500 km towards Sudan and North back towards Aswan.

After the dam we headed back in to the city to the site of an ancient Egyptian granite quarry. Aswan is the source for all of Egypt's ancient red granite statuary and this particular quarry was where an attempt was made to extract a 41m granite obelisk, at the command of Queen Hapshepsut.  Unfortunately the huge stone cracked during the quarrying process and remains there.  Again it is astounding to consider the monumental skill and  effort that would have been required to mine, extract, move and erect stelae of this size!

After hiking around a quarry we had a gentle hour boating up the fist cataract before spending a lovely hour with a Nubian family in their home. We drank sweet mint tea, chatted and met Za'atar, a huge, 85 year old African spurred tortoise. She was surprisingly sprightly for such an old lady.

Za'atar

We arrived back at our hotel in the afternoon. It will be dinner and an early night as we are up before four tomorrow for a trip to Abu Simbel. 

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* The cartouche of Isis features a throne, whilst that of Hathor has a house.

A traveller's nightmare

 Yesterday's flight into Cairo landed about an hour later than scheduled and we had a mad rush across the airport to make our domestic flight to Aswan.

As we collapsed in to seats A and B, row 30, we wondered about our luggage. I casually bet the contents of my wallet, that our suitcase wouldn't make it on to the Aswan flight.

We landed close to midnight and, after checking the domestic and international luggage carousels, it became apparent that I was right ... BOLLOCKS!  A friendly member of the airport staff shepherded us through a deserted airport and we stumbled our way through the lost luggage procedure. We were told to call the airport in the morning. Neither of us was particularly optimistic about seeing our suitcase again.

Fortunately our taxi driver was waiting to meet us and it was a fairly short drive to the Hotel Obelisk. 30% fired off a couple of emails to cancel Tuesday's planned trip and we collapsed into bed.

This morning we got the hotel receptionist to call the airport and we were advised that we should have our case by midday. We couldn't establish if they had definitely found it, or whether this was optimism polished and honed way beyond the level of standard bullshit.

We filled our morning with a wander around the Nubian Museum. I think each of us was still travel fatigued and dreading the thought of shopping for clothes.

Noon time came and we returned to the hotel. Amazingly our case had arrived. With the stress dissipating, we took the local ferry across to Elephantine Island and explored a little.

Gardens behind the Nubian village
Elephantine Island, Aswan

Now we can relax and start our holiday.

Mostly travelling

It was an early start this morning. I was up before six and we were out of the door by seven.

The dogs were loaded into the Defender along with a mountain of food and a selection of beds. It was then a quick run in to Redditch to drop them off at the Boarder's house.

We then retraced our steps to let the chickens out, pick up our bags and swap cars.

By eight thirty we were heading towards Heathrow.  It was a trouble free drive and we were parked and entering Terminal 2 before the eleven o'clock.

 
It was at this point that I encountered the general public and it appears that most of them had never experienced a lift* before.  Fuck me! There were only 5 floors. How the hell do you manage to cock that up? In my eight months of retirement I'd forgotten about stupid people.

Anyway, I'm now sat at an altitude of 11,200 metres with an airspeed close to 900 kph. Zagreb is off to my left and we should land in Cairo in two and a half hours.
I'm not sure how often I  will be able to post in The Journal, but I'll do my best. As for pictures, you'll just have to wait until I get home.

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* Elevator, if you're from across the pond.

One bag, 23 kg maximum

Storm Bert was still blowing across the Midlands this morning and I woke to a grey blustery day.

There's not a lot to report for today, as the weather just made us want to stay indoors.

My main achievement was to pack our clothes into a single suitcase, keep within the baggage allowance  and not initiate World War 3.*

---

* by asking "why the fuck are you taking that?"

Winding down?

 With two days to go before we head off to Egypt, our focus has shifted to holiday preparations.

We are only away for eight days and our holiday mantra has always been "provided we have passports, insulin and a credit card we'll be fine".  Consequently neither of us is getting in to a flap. Holiday wear and other essentials have been placed in relatively neat piles and, at some point on Sunday, I will be called upon to pack them in to a suitcase.

I have prepared a mental list of what the dogs will need at the boarders and that will get chucked in to the Defender at some point tomorrow too.

So that was it for Saturday.  A lengthy snooze took place in the afternoon, and a little light reading took place.  Also, the winds and rain brought in by Storm Bert discouraged me from venturing outside, unless it was absolutely necessary. It was definitely an indoors sort of day. Egypt's sunshine and warmth will be a welcome change.

Carrot Cake - part 2

 Friday's baking got me thinking about my original carrot cake recipe, so I googled again and actually managed to track it down.

A pdf of the user manual for a Sharp microwave/oven grill* was found and here is an excerpt.

I clearly recall that I doubled the quantities, used two tins and baked this cake in an oven rather than a microwave. I can't remember anything about the temperature or timing, but, as a rule, I used to cook everything at Gas Mark 5!

---

* When I separated from TP's biological mother, she took the cooker. I survived with the Sharp microwave, a toaster and a kettle for a good few months until my auntie Joan gave me her old gas cooker. I recall that it was dark green and the numbers on the oven control had been rubbed off. I learnt that you didn't need to be that precise about oven temperature when cooking.

The last of the carrot crop

 I dug up the last of my carrot crop back on the twelfth of the month and the final few are still sat on the bottom of the fridge.  They really need to be consumed and today I made my token contribution.

One of the first meals that I cooked for 30% was a roast lamb dinner and I had baked a carrot cake for dessert. This was back in 2002 and I don't think I have baked another in the intervening years.  The cake must have been pretty good, as 30% still speaks very fondly of it, and it only took her the best part of twenty years to agree to marry me.

Anyway, back to the narrative. A few days ago 30% suggested that it would be nice to make a carrot cake with some of our carrots, as they are very sweet.  I very rarely bake,* so I was a little apprehensive, but I didn't take a huge amount of convincing that this was a good idea.  I no longer had the recipe so successfully used to woo 30%, so I scoured the internet for an alternative.

The BBC Good Food website came to my rescue with the recipe detailed below. I did have to adjust the ingredient quantities, as the original was for a 20 cm cake tin and mine are 23 cm.

Ingredients & Method

- Oil two baking tins and line with baking parchment

- Pre heat oven to 160 ℃ (fan)

• 290 ml vegetable oil
• 125g plain yoghurt
• 5 eggs
• 2 tsp vanilla essense
• the zest from 3/4 of an orange

- Place the above ingredients in a jug and whisk together

• 330g self raising flour
• 420g soft brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 3 tsp ground cinnamon
• 2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
• a good pinch of salt

- Place the dry ingredients in a bowl and mix well, ensuring that there are no lumps.

• 330g grated carrots
• 125g rasins or sultanas
• 65g of roughly chopped walnuts

- Finally mix the wet ingredients with the dry ones and stir in the carrots, raisons and chopped walnuts. 
- Mix well and divide between two cake tins
- The recipe suggested a bake of 25 - 30 mins, although feedback indicated that forty minutes was more realistic. Note: With the increased quantities and larger tins, my bake was about an hour
- Place in the oven and bake until a skewer comes out clean. 
- Once cooked, remove from the oven and leave to cool on a rack in the cake tins 

Once the cake has cooled it can be iced, but it also freezes well. As we are off to Egypt on Monday, I did exactly that. The two cakes were double wrapped in clingfilm and then finished with a jacket of aluminium foil, before being put in the freezer.  They'll be thawed and iced much nearer to Christmas.

Icing Ingredients and Method

• 125g slightly salted butter
• 375g icing sugar
• 125g full fat cream cheese

- Beat the butter and sugar together until smooth
- Add half of the cream cheese and beat again
- Beat in the remaining cheese bit by bit, to prevent the icing splitting
- Use half of the icing as a filling and the remainder as a topping 

- Sprinkle 65g of chopped walnuts on the top 

So, there you go. Friday's achievement was a carrot cake. I'll let you know how it turns out later next month.

Note to self: Reviews of this recipe question the icing ingredients, suggesting that the quantities are insufficient and that there is far too much icing sugar.

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* Apart from the bakery course at Butter Street on the nineteenth of October, the last time I baked was when I made a sourdough loaf during lockdown. If I'm honest, I don't think the "reward" of a sourdough loaf is worth the faff of making a sourdough starter ...I'm not a fan.

Getting on with things

Apparently The Rat aka Dog#4 has an annoying habit of bopping 30% gently with her paw at around six in the morning. The bopping continues until 30% rises and lets The Rat out for a pee.  I say this is "allegedly annoying" because The Rat very rarely wakes me. I can be up well before 30% and The Rat still rouses 30% so that she can go out and complete her early morning round of the gardens.

This morning was a case in point. 30% was away on her Spa break and I woke at around half past seven. The dogs were still snoring and, in fact, I had to call them from their beds and encourage them to go out and empty their bladders.  Part of me thinks that The Rat is well aware that 30% is not an early riser and takes an evil pleasure in dragging her from her bed a good couple of hours before she would prefer to rise.

Anyway, on to today's comings and goings.  

First on the list was to taxi Sheila in to Alcester to pick up her car from the bodyshop. I killed two birds with one stone and fuelled the Defender, as we were passing the petrol station.

Once back at home I headed out with the dogs and enjoyed a short walk down the lane. The weather is cold and bright and the dogs loved bounding over the patches of crunchy snow along the verges. 

The weather might be sunny, but it is cold and my next task was indoors. I retired to the computer and drafted a set of chicken care instructions for the son of one of our neighbours. He has agreed to look after them while we are away and I have already shown him the ropes, but I thought a brief summary might be useful.  As a parent I am well aware of the attention span of your average teenager!

The afternoon saw me attend to a couple of jobs that really needed doing before we head off to Egypt. I wrapped the tree ferns in some horticultural fleece and, as I was doing that, I noticed that 30% hadn't wrapped up her dahlia tubers.  We have had a couple of frosts and I am well aware that they aren't frost hardy.  I took a chance and wrapped them in newspaper and tucked them away in the frost free store room ... I really hope that I don't find a rotten mess when I return to them in the Spring.

The other job was to give The Rat a quick hair cut before they all head off to the Dog Boarder.  It was nothing too severe, just a quick clip of her face and paws to tidy her up and make her look a little less feral.

That's about it for Thursday apart from mentioning that 30% and Jules arrived home late in the afternoon, having aborted their Spa break due to yesterday's medication mishap. 

---

Post Script: It looks like the second week in December might be a busy one for me. 30% advised that the electricity supply company have been in touch and will be felling the conifer that obstructs our electricity feed on the 9th of December.  That'll see me out with the chainsaw and axe; cutting and splitting logs for the following few days.

The best laid plans ...

 of mice and men oft go awry.

Well that seemed to be the theme for today. Let me explain. I didn't have a particularly busy day planned and apart for a trip in to Alcester to pick up a few essentials and an appointment at the Doctor's Surgery* I didn't achieve much.

The plans that went awry were those of 30% and mummy Sheila. 

Sheila's car was in for a paintwork repair and I had volunteered to take her in to Alcester at around five o'clock to collect it. Five o'clock came and went and it eventually transpired that it wouldn't be ready until tomorrow morning. Sheila's evening was totally screwed, and it looks like I'll be running her in to Alcester bright and early on Thursday.

As for 30%, she and Jules had headed off to Ashby de la Zouch for a Spa break.  She phoned this evening and I asked if they were having a fun time. "Not really" was her reply and she went on to explain that she had managed to misplace one of her insulin pens.** As a result, she is highly likely to be back home tomorrow.

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* My GP had requested that I make an appointment, following receipt of a referral request from my Optician.  I was quite annoyed by this as my GP's surgery received the referral request around the third of November, but were unable to offer me an appointment until early December ... until I made a fuss! So basically they were unwilling to make the referral until they had discussed it with me, but wouldn't be available for that conversation for a month ... another month of painful eyes and no progress being made. 

As for the brush off I got from the snotty cow at the reception desk when I attempted to point out that my Diabetic Review was well overdue ... Don't Ask!

** This is not a good thing for a Type 1 diabetic to do. We become very unwell, very quickly without insulin. Fortunately she was still in possession of her fast acting insulin and would be able to maintain a degree of blood sugar control until normal service was restored.

It's a good job I brought the Tree Ferns in

I woke early this morning and, as I peered out in to the dark, everything seemed lighter than it should be. Moonlight, I thought and then I noticed the steady fall of large, soft snowflakes.  Snow had been forecast for the North of the Midlands, but had not been expected to get this far South. Clearly the Met Office had got it wrong, as there was a good couple of inches on the ground and it was still falling, thick and fast.

Unexpected, but quite lovely

Now I love a snowy day, but this was cold, wet snow and, with temperatures above freezing, I guessed that a lot of it would be slush by the end of the day. Thoughts of walking with the dogs through dry, powdery snow were abandoned and I decided that indoors was the place for me.

This morning I gave my shotgun a long overdue clean and also arranged a test ride on a BMW R 1250 R. The test ride is scheduled for the sixth of December and, pessimist that I am, I expect the weather to be miserable. I therefore extracted my motorcycle jacket from the wardrobe and used the last of the Nikwax to reproof it. As I said yesterday "I hope it works".

My final accomplishment was to make an attempt to deal with the lodgers in the loft.  

One of the downsides of living in a rural cottage is that we do tend to get an influx of mice towards the end of the year. I haven't a clue how they do it, but the little buggers manage to climb the exterior of the cottage and take up residence in the roof space.  I can then hear the noisy little sods as they scurry around during the hours of darkness.

Bait blocks were liberally scattered and traps were set. I can report a single kill in a trap set a couple of weeks ago, but I know there are more up there.

Finally, I suppose I should make some reference to the title of today's entry.  Apparently tree ferns are not fully hardy, only being capable of tolerating -5℃, so it's a good job I moved them to the greenhouse a couple of days back.  I don't think a crown filled with wet snow would have done them much good.

Failed again

 I really need to sort out my motorcycle insurance. I have got as far as getting all the paperwork together and have even bookmarked the insurance comparison website. However, every time I settle to complete this task I manage to find something else to do instead ... and today was no different.

I settled at my computer this morning and my attention was diverted by a subscription offer to the New Scientist website.  I have read NS since I was a student and most days I tend to peruse the day's new articles and, cheapskate that I am, read the ones that are free.  Today, however, I finally committed and subscribed. That lead me down a fantastic rabbit hole of interesting science articles and I spent a lot of time, and I meant a LOT of time, engrossed in recent scientific discoveries.

It was not a particularly pleasant day so I decided that indoor jobs were the order of the day. I emptied the pockets of my gardening coats and set about cleaning them and re-waterproofing them using a product called Nikwax. Watch this space to see whether I am singing their praises or condemning them to eternal damnation the next time it rains. 

It should be noted that I hate getting wet. I don't mind being out in the rain. I just loathe it if my coat leaks. There is nothing worse than that cold trickle of rain down the back of your neck, or the slow realisation that you're starting to get cold and damp where a seam has let the rain through.

Sorry, went off on a bit of a tangent there. So, I waterproofed the coats and also wandered up to the hives. It is way too cold for an inspection, but I wanted to remove the syrup feeders and replace them with a pack of fondant. Once the temperature drops the bees will no longer feed on syrup, but they will consume fondant. Bee fondant is similar to the stuff that is plastered on the outside of cakes, but has less additives. A kilo pack of fondant was placed on the crown board of each hive and the feeders were taken back to the house and given a good scrubbing.

I then tidied myself up and headed in to Worcester for this week's appointment with the Ophthalmologist. Apparently my intraocular pressure has reduced, but not enough and I have been prescribed yet another eye drop and will be back at the clinic the day after we return from Egypt. It seems that my eyes respond to a course of steroids by pushing up the IOP. She also decided that the punctal plugs hadn't alleviated my symptoms, so they were removed ... far more gently than the bloody insertion.

So that was Monday. It looks like I might be sorting out my insurance tomorrow ... or Wednesday!

Mostly surrounded by people

Yep, the title pretty much sums up my weekend.

I'm "funny" about people. I am quite happy in my own company and can spend days alone without feeling lonely. 30% will be disappearing for a few days this coming week, as she is off for a Spa break with Jules. I have no problem with this. I will be quite happy pottering and preparing for our upcoming holiday.  However, I do enjoy company, it's just that I am very selective about the company I keep.

I am happy to meet new people, and some transition from acquaintance to friendship. The problem is when I have to spend meaningful time with people, who I would prefer to be acquaintances, but seem to have inadvertently managed to cross into the friendship camp.

Fundamentally, I am choosy about the company I keep and this weekend was spent with groups that definitely included family, friends and acquaintances.  Consequently my experience ranged from "enjoyable" to "kill me now".

Saturday morning started with a quick trip to the supermarket where we divided and conquered. 30% toured the aisles for essentials and I visited the bureau d'exchange and converted Stirling to dollars for our upcoming Egypt trip.

We then headed down the road to 30%'s brother's house. He and his wife had agreed to host a family get together to celebrate his and TP's recent birthdays. It was a pleasant enough few hours, but you know how it is with in-laws ... they have their own little in jokes and a strong tendency to start to talk about events and people that mean abso-fucking-lutely nothing unless you were present ... and I wasn't. 

There is also the undercurrent of tension resulting from the recent rounds of in-fighting and personal slights.  As a "non-family" member of this group I am either unable to participate or not permitted to voice an opinion. 

As a result I tend to sit on the periphery of these events, joining in when I can, but well aware that there is a Venn digram of them and us.  30% sits in the intersection.

So that was Saturday. Sunday was similar, but I think I sat in the larger Venn bubble.

It was time for mine and TP's annual pilgrimage to Motorcycle live at the NEC. This year we were joined by Bubbles, Bubbles' father-in-law; Steve and TP's mate; Charlie. 

We had a great day wandering around. The show was very busy and a group of five was never going to work. However sub-groups formed and re-formed throughout the day when we bumped in to each other. Bubbles is working his way through the labours of Hercules* more commonly known as the UK Motorcycle Test and this was his first experience of just what was on offer. He had a great day and now has a germ of an idea about what sort of bike might work for him.

As for me, I got to sit on the BMW R1250R and, hopefully, will be contacted in the near future for a test ride ... Mind you, the low seat version of the new R1300 GS would be tempting ... If I won the lottery!

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* Completing these is probably more straightforward than getting a bike license in the UK.

Opera, steam, teach ...

... They're all good words to start the daily Wordle puzzle.  The Wordle Witch had her favourites; opera was one of them, whilst I always preferred to pick a five letter word that related to a significant event from the preceding day ... mowed was often used!

Today wasn't great. It was the Wordle Witch's funeral. I have been to three funerals in the past month and I think this is the one that has affected me the most. I have already mentioned that WW was a ray of sunshine and always a delight to spend time with. At sixty four years of age, she has gone far too soon and she will be missed.

Both 30% and I have noted that we frequently think "Oh WW would like that", we expect to see her at a local event, or think about inviting her along to one of our upcoming excursions. And then there is the sad realisation that she is with us no more.

I completed today's wordle puzzle in three guesses; TACKY and thought "I wonder how many Lou would have got it in?" I know three is a damned good score, but I bet she would have done just as well, if not better.

We'll miss you Lou.

Mr Fix-it

 Today was not the busiest of days.

This morning I was called upon to fulfil one of my fatherly/husbandly duties. Apparently, upon becoming an adult in a relationship, I became responsible for the repair of anything my ham-fisted wife/progeny manage to break. 

Today 30% advised that she had managed to break her spectacles chain within two days of purchase. I took a look and, initially, was tempted to throw it straight in the bin. Basically the chain had snapped close to the end where it is attached to the arm of the glasses. The chain was incredibly fine and re-attaching it to the end was going to be challenging. I won't bore you with the detail, but I got creative with super glue reinforced with baking powder and was able to make a loop in the chain and bond it to itself.

30% was happy with the repair and I was able to slope off and spend the rest of the morning achieving absolutely nothing apart from scrutiny of the New Scientist website and cataloguing a couple of recent additions to my vintage Hornby Dublo collection.

The afternoon saw me slightly tinged with guilt after such a lazy morning, so I wandered out to the veg patch and laid a weed inhibiting membrane around three sides of the raised beds. This was then topped with a healthy layer of shredded bark and I must admit that it does now look rather tidy. I cannot complete the fourth side of the raid beds until I install the Victorian edging that we acquired  back in August.  That can wait until the weather is warmer and the ground is not so wet.

So that just about covers Thursday's activities apart from the confirmatory call from the drainage contractors ... They will be here on the ninth!

Insurance annoyance

 Wednesday morning wasn't particularly busy, but it was certainly productive. His Majesty's Inspectorate of Taxes have completed their review of my tax return, so I was able to submit a request for my rebate.  It is a reasonable sum, but I am pretty sure that it has already been spent on the upcoming drainage and paving work ... bugger!

I also carried out a quick motorcycle insurance comparison and then contacted my current insurer to ask them if they could do any better than this year's renewal quote.  As an aside they had decided to increase my premium by about 23% but offered no explanation for this.  After a very long wait they advised that they could make a reduction of about fourteen pounds on a four hundred and sixteen pound premium. I'm certain that it comes as no surprise that I politely, but firmly, declined to renew with them.

It looks like tomorrow morning will be spent on Insurance comparison sites working out the best deal.

In the afternoon I ventured out to the garden for a couple of hours. The verges were mowed and I swept up the last of the leaves from the Ash tree by the gate. As my leaf mould crates are full to the brim, I had a small bonfire to dispose of the last of the leaves.

The garden is looking quite tidy at the moment and far, far better than it did this time last year. I am, however, a little concerned that it will look like the Somme after our drainage contractors have completed their works.

Rodin's Kiss

The dry weather continues and, as a result, I was out in the garden again.

This morning I dug the last of the carrot crop from the smaller of the raised beds and discovered this homage to Rodin in vegetable form.

The Kiss

I then spent a merry hour hand weeding both the beds and the path around them before applying a manure mulch to the smaller bed.*

In the afternoon I dragged the Beast from its lair and mowed the lawns at the front of the cottage. The garden is now looking a lot tidier as Winter draws closer.

The spell of dry weather also meant that this evening's walk with Bobbyn and the dogs was pleasant, rather than the muddy chore that is more usual in the wetter months.

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* The larger raised bed will need to wait until the leeks have been harvested

Oh, it's olive green

 In recent Journal entries I've mentioned that the weather has been grey and dreary for many days.  Grey it might have been, but it has also been very mild and the lawns are still growing.  They were last mowed at the beginning of the month and the bloody things need doing again!

It's always a challenge to keep them tidy at this time of the year as they never dry out properly, but if they are left to grow they will be a tangled, yellow mess when they get their first cut of 2025. I therefore planned to cut them this afternoon, once the worst of the dew had dissipated.*

This morning was taken up with chauffeuring 30% for an eye test. Normally she would drive herself, but the test involved dilation of her pupils and driving is never a good idea immediately after that. On our return I had some time to kill before lunch and my gaze fell upon my gardening hat.

It is a manky, sweaty item, but an absolute must in a garden with many overhanging branches. I'd love a pound for every time it has save me from a scraped or bumped pate. Anyway, back to this morning. My eyes fell upon my grotty gardening hat and I decided to try to do something about it. The care label said wipe clean only, but it was several years of use beyond a that treatment, so I dumped the damned thing in a bowl of hot water with a generous measure of detergent and gave it a vigorous drubbing. 

After a few minutes of washing the water looked more like the Avon in flood and I pulled out the hat to take a look. It looked much cleaner, but extremely dishevelled. It didn't look like a happy thing; almost like the clothing equivalent of a soaked sheep.  I gave it a damned good rinse and, as I type, it has been re-shaped and left to drip dry on a rack in the utility room. 

We had assumed that the hat was a dirty brown, but, as is says in today's entry title; it's actually olive green.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the garden. Leaves were raked and piled in the crates up in the orchard and the lawns at the rear of the cottage were mowed. The forecast for the next week suggests that it could be cooler, whilst still fine. 

Hopefully that'll slow the grass growth.

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* Fat chance of that!

Let's go to the pub

Today started with a WhatsApp message to wish TP a happy birthday. A card was sent and a call will take place later in the day, but presents will be ...  well presented, when he visits next weekend.

The day was then rudely interrupted when 30% took a call from Mrs Tweedy.* She had decided that she wanted to come over to view the cascade of hand knitted poppies that flow down the side of the village church bell tower ... an installation for Remembrance Sunday.  She obviously thought that we I would be delighted if she combined this with a visit and spent a fucking grim happy hour in her company.**

This would have been almost tolerable, but for the fact that within minutes of Mrs Tweedy's arrival, 30% disappeared to help out with a stray dog out on the Three Miler. I was therefore left to host Mr & Mrs Tweedy and accompany them down to the church for an outdoor Remembrance Service. Now I enjoy the company of Mr Tweedy, but his good lady is the death of mirth at the best of times and I really struggled.

Anyway, they eventually left and we were able to enjoy the rest of our Sunday.

30% and I attempted to slim down my collection of shirts,*** but I think we only managed to find half a dozen that I could bear to part with. Note to self: Try wearing a shirt with a collar, rather than a T-shirt when you go out.

A little before three o'clock we headed down the lane with Hobson to the pub on the village green.  Mid-Life Crisis had agreed to do another show after the success of their musical afternoon back in August. Today they sang inside the pub and their show was equally successful with several of the punters dancing in the tiny public bar.

Once again Hobson was the star and he received a huge amount of attention as he alternated between lying at the feet of one of the singers or perching between us on a pew to take in the show. We stayed for nearly three hours before heading home and agreeing that a takeaway was the perfect way to end the weekend.

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* My mother-in-law. I don't really need to say anything else, other than she makes Les Dawson's mother-in-law look like a paragon of virtue and kindness.

** Her happy face looks like she has just licked dogs piss off a thistle and I don't see her happy face very often!

*** 30% used to say that I had sixty shirts. This was a complete exaggeration. The final tally was a little over thirty, not counting T-shirts or sweatshirts.