Domesticity

 I was out and about early this morning and had a lovely chat with an Uber driver that clearly had no idea that he should stop and give way to traffic that is already circulating the roundabout on the outskirts of Alcester ... the fucking moron just pulled out in front of me!

Anyway, I managed to avoid a collision and went on to "win at shopping".  It was one of those days when I wandered in to my local hardware store and they had exactly what I needed.  Let me explain, the plan for today was to prepare the cured pork loins for smoking. This would involve removing the loins from the vacuum bags, washing them off and patting them dry, before wrapping them in muslin and hanging them to air dry for a few days.

I needed something to ensure that they remain clean and not danced upon by any of my little insect chums, so what could I use?  After being guided to the location of cotton string, the helpful assistant suggested muslin squares. I doubted these would be big enough, but wandered over for a look. In passing my eye fell upon a roll of mutton cloth and the heavens opened and a choir of Angels sang. I grabbed a roll and was delighted that this was absolutely perfect. The mutton cloth is a seamless tube of soft cotton material that can be cut to length.  Its modern use is for polishing, but in the past it was used to cover sheep carcasses prior to them being butchered in to smaller cuts.

Delighted, I grabbed a roll and hurried home.  The rest of the morning was taken up with the cured loins and these are now hanging in the cool of the workshop dressed in their mutton cloth jackets.

The afternoon saw me mentally prepare for the next job by having a quick snooze on the sofa.  I then mixed up a batch of SBK Brush Killer and headed out to spray the nettles in the orchard.  It is not a job that I enjoy as it is very much a "painting the Forth Bridge" type of job. Despite spraying or brush cutting, the bloody things come back with a vengeance and the job repeats.

30% and I have decided that we need to get the ground in the orchard levelled so that we can get it seeded with a grass mixture. The levelling will allow us to use the ride-on mower up there and mowing will encourage a strong sward which will easily outcompete the nettles. The only problem is that the access to the orchard is a narrow gate and a mini digger is about the biggest device we can get up there. 30% has contacted a chap to come over and give us a quote.

I had enough SBK for three batches* of spray and I estimate that I covered about two third of the nettles. The rest of the bloody things can wait for a couple of days.  Hopefully the sprayed plants will have wilted by then and I'll have a better idea of what I have already treated ... fingers crossed.

Back in the garden I joined 30% on the patio and we watched the fledgeling dinosaurs on the feeders in the garden.  After an hour watching young thrushes, greenfinches, robins and great tits, I planted another short row of Spring onions and think that there may be signs of growth in the  3' row that I planted ten days ago.

It was now mid afternoon and, as I put the sprayer away, my eyes fell upon the Horticultural Club annual show signs that are currently sat in the car port. I've recounted the tale of my resignation from my role as co-chair, but the signs are likely to sit here until they need them to advertise the annual show in early September. Two of the signs have damaged posts, so I decided that I would fix the damned things and then I could walk past them without feeling a nagging of responsibility or obligation to repair them. It was a fairly straightforward job to cut and replace the posts from some timber that I had in store, and by six o'clock I was finished and sat in the evening sun with a glass of red wine.

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* 15 litres in total