Back Story

 This morning I had a check up arranged with my Spinal Consultant at a hospital in Stourport. 

As I got my shit together* a team of roofers arrived to install a dry valley in the junction where the 1970s and 1980s extensions meet with the original cottage roofing.  We have had an intermittent leak in the redundant chimney in the kitchen and our roofer thinks that this will, hopefully, remediate the problem.

I left the roofers to it and headed off for my check up.  The Consultant was pleased with the condition of my back and we agreed that there was no treatment needed at present, other than over the counter painkillers when necessary. I'll see him again in six months, or sooner if it all goes horribly wrong!

At this point I'll bore you with the back story to my bad back ... Sorry, another fucking awful pun.

In early February 2023 30% and I had been out in the garden doing something. I can't, for the life of me remember what the task was, and there ain't much that needs doing at that time of year. Anyway, we finished the now forgotten task and headed back in to the warm where I fell asleep on the sofa.

When I woke about an hour later my back felt dreadful and I put it down to sleeping in an awkward position due to Whiffler taking up more than his fair share of the settee.  I took painkillers and expected the pain to subside over the next 24 hours, but it didn't, it got much worse!

Within the space of 2 days I had gone from being relatively fit and active to being virtually housebound.  The pain was incredible and strangely manifested itself in the lower back and in shooting, burning pain in my left shin. This was so bad that I couldn't stand for more than five minutes and I couldn't walk for more than fifty yards without having to sit down.

Over the next six months I had many consultations with my GP and Physiotherapists. Their approach was to fob me off with ever increasing strengths of pain killers and tell me that it would get better on its own, rather than refer me for any diagnostic tests.  At its worst I was taking nerve blocks and high strength painkillers** that made little impact on the pain. They just made me incapable of staying awake for more than three hours at a time.

At this point I should commend 30% for her patience and care. She kept the whole household on course and did her best to deal with the most miserable, evil tempered patient ever. 

It is fair to say that being immobile and housebound at the age of 59 with no diagnosis or effective treatment plan was incredibly worrying for both of us.

Whilst I was not able to walk very far, I was able to drive so I signed up with a local Chiropractor; had a few sessions and dutifully followed an exercise regime she designed for me.  After a couple of months we realised that there was no significant improvement, so she referred me to a private imaging company in Cheltenham for an MRI scan.

The scan was completed and I was soon in possession of the Consultant Radiologist's report. I now had a diagnosis. I had a bulging disk between the L4 and L5 vertebrae and also foraminal stenosis on the left side of this joint.  Foraminal Stenosis is a degenerative condition and basically means that a nerve branch that exits the spinal column is being pinched ... hence the crippling pain in the left shin.

I now had a diagnosis after 6 months and was able to get referrals*** to see a Consultant.  A number of treatment options were outlined from an epidural with steroids to back surgery involving removal of bone material and the insertion of a titanium cage to support and tie together the offending vertebrae.

It was agreed that we would start with the epidural steroid injection to control the pain. Interestingly as I was going through the arrangements to have this procedure I noticed that my back seemed slightly better. I was moving slightly more easily, I was sleeping through the night and needed to take far fewer pain killers.  

This was around the beginning of September and over the next six or eight weeks I had the epidural and my back pain diminished. By October I was relatively pain free, but incredibly unfit after eight months of inactivity.  From that point on I have been doing my best to regain a degree of fitness and improve my activity.

The outlook is uncertain. My Consultant is very happy with the current state of affairs, but cautions me that there is every chance that the nerve could become inflamed and put me back on my backside again. All I can do is keep as fit as possible and be very sensible when lifting heavy object ... like sleepers for raised beds!

Having finished that health report I'll quickly finish today's activities.

The roofers finished in the early afternoon and 30% and I headed off to Weston Subedge for another load of topsoil. That has now been transferred to the large raised bed and, as predicted, another load will be needed to top it off.

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* I failed at the first hurdle when, about ten minutes from my destination, I realised that I had forgotten my wallet.  I then offered many prayers to the Gods of car parking that the payment machine would be out of order.  I then rationalised that this was an NHS appointment at a private hospital and no private hospital would charge their paying customers!

** Amitriptylene and Tramadol

*** By this point in time I had qualified for the Private Health scheme of my employer

Planting carrots by the weekend?

My main goal for today was to get the final course of sleepers laid on the smaller of the two raised beds. 

Rain was forecast and my preference was to get this done without getting soaked.  It took quite a long time to get these final four half sleepers laid and it seemed to involve a good few trips to the workshop to plane ends square and even shorten one of the buggers by about 10mm. Shortly before lunch I drove the last of the connecting screws in and declared phase one of the job finished.

No sooner had I made this declaration, than 30% was on the 'phone to Budget Skips to make arrangements for us to go and collect a tonne of top soil.*

A quick lunch was eaten and then the trailer was hitched up to the newly taxed Defender.  Within a few minutes we were trundling down the road towards Weston Subedge.  It was quite novel experiencing a waste reclamation facility, including being weighed on the weigh bridge and we were amazed at the size of the enormous bucket loader that made light work of gently tricking three quarters of a tonne** of top soil into our dinky little trailer.

Within the space of ten minutes we were loaded, weighed out and driving home at a very sedate forty miles per hour.

We had prepared the base of the smaller of the raised beds with a layer of home made compost, some grass cuttings from the orchard and a few other compostables that we had to hand. We then spent a quite physical hour transferring the soil from the trailer to the bed.  The small bed swallowed almost all of the load of soil and I estimate that we will need another two loads to get the larger bed filled too.

Having tidied up and put the tools away, we retired for a well earned rest. I think we both just fancied an extended period on the sofa but 30% had arranged to go to an aquafit class and Bobyn was coming over for a walk.

At this point I will direct your attention back to the second paragraph and the comment that "rain was forecast". Bobyn arrived and casually mentioned that it was poring over Evesham way and that she hoped we would miss it ... We didn't!

At the point in our walk where we were furthest from the house, the heavens opened and within minutes we were absolutely soaked.  It was a soggy walk back to the house and we all looked like drowned rats.  There then followed a manic half an hour of dog drying, clothes changing and meal preparation before Hobson, Whiffler, The Rat and I could settle and warm up.

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* Their certified top soil is only about £18 per tonne, but there is an £80 delivery charge.  It didn't take a genius to realise that we had both the time and the equipment to collect the soil ourselves, and save a fair few quid in the process.

** This was our little trailer filled to the brim and it was less than the capacity of the bucket!

A day in bed ...

 or, rather, beds plural, but I am getting ahead of myself, so I'll leave the explanation of that crappy pun for a while.

This morning I was up and at it shortly after eight o'clock. I raked up the long grass from the no-mow May area of the lawn, dragged out the lawn mower and gave it its first cut of the year. We have now moved from no-mow May to it looks fucking awful for most of June.  Basically it takes the best part of a month, or even more, for the lawn to produce a decent sward after being allowed to go wild for a month*.

30% headed out shortly after nine on a variety of errands, including a gossip session intellectual debate with her nail technician.  

I collected up a selection of tools from the shed and workshop and headed out to the vegetable garden where I made a start on the assembly of the raised beds. The first stage was levelling the site and this was done "by eye" with a hoe and rake.**  I then measured up, hammered in a couple of pegs and heaved the first 8' sleeper in to position.  It took a bit of faffing around to ensure that the butt joints lined up correctly, but the use of a couple of hardwood wedges allowed accurate alignment. I can also report that the structural timber screws provided by the sleeper supplier were awesome. My little impact driver made light work of joining the sleepers together.

My overall design is for two raised beds, each is built from two courses of sleepers which will make them about 16" high. One bed is 4' x 8' and the second is 4' x 4'. By the end of the day I had completed the larger bed and laid the first course of sleepers for the smaller bed.

I would have finished the second bed, but 30% reminded me that we were out this evening, so the need for a shower put an end to my garden construction activities for today.

Tonight's entertainment was Pershore Operatic & Dramatic Society's production of Priscilla Queen of the Desert at the No. 8 arts centre in Pershore.  I have to report that the show was absolutely fantastic. The music, the performances, the whole ensemble was outstanding, and as for the costumes ... they were fabulous! We went with a few members of the coven and all of us were amazed at the quality of the production by a dedicated and skilled amateur troupe.

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* It has actually gone wild for 7 or 8 months, since that area of the lawn is far too wet to cut until after May 

** I put a spirit level on the beds, once assembled, and was surprised how close to level I had actually got with only my eye for guidance.

Air Show weekend

 As mentioned on Friday, we are only a few miles from Ragley Hall and it is hosting the Midlands Air Show this weekend.

Since moving to our new house we have realised that the local geography makes the skies above our house the perfect holding area for the aircraft before they make dramatic entrances over the Rageley Estate.  In other words, we get a free close up view of a lot of the aircraft* over the weekend.

It is fast becoming an annual tradition that we have some form of get together over the air show weekend and spend time in the garden drinking, chatting and listening to the thunderous sounds of high velocity jet aircraft. The early June date means that the weather is usually reasonable and, if we are really lucky, absolutely gorgeous.

This weekend we were joined by C&S. They arrived in the afternoon on Saturday in time for the first display flights by the Red Arrows. The afternoon was spend out in the garden drinking tea, chatting and, as the sun passed over the yard arm, a couple of bottles of champagne** were consumed. 

Our dinner was delayed by a short walk to the top of the hill to see if we could catch sight of any balloons. We were in luck and a flight of more than twenty of them could be seen rising over Ragley and heading off  towards the South in the calm evening skies.

Dinner was eaten along with a lot more booze and it was, most definitely, a late one.

Sunday was delightful. The weather was even better than Saturday and we breakfasted out in the garden enjoying the welcome warmth of the early Summer sun. There was a lot more chatting and laughter and in the early afternoon we again wandered to the top of the hill to watch the full display by the Red Arrows.

C&S then headed off home and 30% and I had a lengthy afternoon nap ... we were very, very tired.

As afternoon passed in to evening we decided that we ought to do something. Plants were watered, I split a couple of Pinks (Dianthus) and 30% repotted some Tulips to make space for the Pinks. I also finally cut the area of long grass that is, allegedly, my contribution to no-mow May.***

Tomorrow is looking fine, so I may make a start on the raised beds.

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* The balloon flights depend on the wind direction and sight of them is never guaranteed

** S's alcohol of choice. She does love a bottle of champers. 

*** In actual fact it is just an area of the lawn that is so bloody wet that it can't bear the foot traffic until early June. No-mow May is just an excuse for leaving it long,

Try finding a title for this lot

 While I waited for the dew on the grass to dry, I finished a little bit of weeding on the front path* and then grabbed my shears.  We have two box cubes standing on either side of the door and both were looking a little shaggy after this year's Spring growth.

When we bought the house these were untamed to say the least. The box on the right hand side was so huge** that when I cut it back, to match the one on the left, there was barely a green shoot left.  That original pruning was back in 2022 and they were trimmed back to about 3' 6" in height and about 2' 6" square.  Over the past couple of years they have recovered beautifully and, this morning, I gave them their annual tidy up.

I then grabbed the porn mower and finished the lawns.  It looks like this may be the beginning of the end for this faithful servant as the self drive failed mid way through the cut.  We've been thinking about replacing it for a while and this may give us the impetus to move forward with a new machine. 

I have to say that the mower still runs beautifully and I am tempted to see how much effort it is to actually push it around the lawns for the next few months. I could certainly do with the exercise and, as I said to 30%, it should use less petrol if I am pushing it rather than using the self drive functionality.

I finished the lawns just as "H" arrived with her mum and her two grand daughters for a cuppa, cake and a chat. We had a lovely break before  I grabbed a spade and spent a further couple of hours edging the lawns and paving slabs.  

At one point this was interrupted by a fly-past from the Red Arrows. It is the Midlands Air Show at Ragley Hall this weekend and we are barely a couple of miles from the grounds. Each year we get a free show as the planes circle above our house before flying in for the displays.***

Today was not all doom and gloom on the garden machinery front.  As we were vegetating in front of the television, 30% received a message from Gizzy. An aquaintance of hers is selling their rotovator and she has nabbed it for us ... now we just need to get our arses over to Tewkesbury to pick it up.

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* I still have loads to do, but the walk to the front door is now weed free.

** I'd estimate that it was 6' high and had spread the same to the right, where it had started to obscure the living room window.

*** In 2022 our air space highlights were more than 40 balloons flying over at barely 100' and an aerobatics warm up by a bi-plane above the fields just outside the house.

Communication Breakdown

Today we headed over to Winchcombe for the second time in a fortnight. 

This time it was to meet up with M&M and their new puppy Nova.  The plan was for Nova to meet our three and for us to catch up with M&M's news whilst taking a wander through the village and grounds of Sudeley Castle.

We arrived in good time and I asked 30% for the dogs' leads. "You've got them" she responded.  "Err, no I haven't" was my answer and she followed up with "stop messing around and get them".  There was a moment of dawning realisation that we had forgotten the damned things, followed by a high potential for allocation of blame to be the next stage of this dialogue.

I rapidly changed this conversational tack by grabbing my phone, googling pet shops in Winchcombe and asking a nearby lady for directions.  Ten minutes and forty quid later I had three new leads and had averted a crisis ... RESULT!

We had a lovely time with M&M which included coffee, cake, a gently stroll and lunch. We caught up on each other's news and made loose arrangements for our next get together.

We were back home by mid afternoon and I returned to the clearance of the path to the front door. I have now cleared the weeds around the step up to the front lawn and clipping the two box cubes on either side of the front door is definitely next on my to do list.

I'll be clipping the Box soon

 Wednesday started with me attacking the small bed in front of the car port. A grape vine is planted there, which grows up the central pillar and across the front roof beam.  The bed was an absolute disgrace and I set to with a trowel and spade and had soon filled a wheelbarrow with brambles, grass, weeds and vine pruning.

This was followed by a period of pottering in the workshop.  The showery weather and wet conditions in the vegetable garden meant that any attempt to construct the raised beds would soon lead to conditions closely resembling the Somme. 

I therefore deferred the assembly and decided knock up a couple of jigs to make my life easier once things have dried up a little.  The first jig was a template to locate the positions for the pilot holes for the screws. This was a simple piece of 6mm ply with two holes drilled in the correct positions. I will simply need to hold it against the end of each sleeper and use a pencil to mark the positions of the screw holes.

The second jig was a block of hard wood about 75mm square and 50mm thick. I made sure that it was square and then used my pillar drill to drill a hole through the centre.  If I hold this tight over the positions for the pilot holes and drill through it, it will ensure that the drill stays upright and goes through the sleeper at 90° in both horizontal and vertical planes.

I tested these two jigs out on one of the sleepers and can report that a) both worked perfectly and b) the green oak is far easier to drill through than I expected. *

Mr and Mrs Tweedy arrived in the late morning and the next couple of hours were spent chatting and eating lunch. They disappeared around three o'clock and I felt that I should really do something else in the garden.  

I decided to make a start on clearing the weeds from the path to the front door and spent the next couple of hours on my hands and knees removing the overgrowth of weeds and grass from the stone slabs. I just about made it to the front door** and was amazed at the difference. The path looks about twice the width and we can now see the low dry stone wall that borders the path and the front garden.

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* I just need a good dry spell so I can get the area roughly levelled and put the raised beds together ... Oh, and I also need gravel for a drainage layer and god knows how much top soil to fill them.  If I get a single carrot out of these this year I will be amazed.

** about 10'

Mostly Haircuts

Hobson and Whiffler were packed off early this morning for a trip to the Grooming Salon.  They are both models at a local establishment that trains dog groomers. Apparently clipping a standard poodle is one of their final assignments before they are judged competent to spend their future career attending to Cockapoos and Bichon Frises.

We benefit from a drastically reduced price for a bathed and groomed dog, but do, on occasion, have to put up with clips that need some attention once the dogs are back at home. This point will become relevant later on in the narrative.

I have already mentioned that dog #4* is not a fan of the groomers and will squeal like a stuck pig if you happen to pull on her coat a little too firmly. This is not an encouraging experience for a trainee dog groomer and The Rat is already neurotic enough, so I'm responsible for grooming this ginger idiot. The plan for this morning was that she was going to get the same treatment as the other two.

Clippers were unboxed and for the next hour she stood reasonably patiently while her face and body were neatly trimmed.  A few breaks were necessary for recharging the clippers and for blades to cool and each of these also included a bribe treat of a Rich Tea biscuit to keep her motivated.

By lunchtime I was very pleased with my efforts, although her toes will need some attention over the next couple of days.

The afternoon saw a quick trip over to Droitwich for an appointment with an Opthalmology Technician. This was a quick five minutes for photos to be taken with a follow-up in the near future.

30% collected H&W from the Groomers and it was fair to say that the clips were at the more amateurish end of the grooming spectrum. Hobson's feet seem to have been completely missed and will need to be done along with those of The Rat later this week.

My final activity was an early evening walk out on the Three Miler with Bobbyn before slipping on the sofa and considering hiring a mini digger to do some levelling cause chaos in the orchard.

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* aka The Rat

Not the busiest of days

It was another showery day and I was reluctant to resume digging in the veg patch as the clay soil would be a heavy, sticky nightmare to work when the top layers are soaked.

I therefore spent this morning dealing with the oak sleepers that had been unloaded on to the drive. These needed to be moved to the vegetable garden, where they will form a couple of raised beds. At over 60kg each they were going to be buggers to move but six of them needed to be cut in half, so that was my first job.

There was no way that my circular saw would cut through a 100mm thick sleeper, so I had to make a cut on each side. Some of these cuts didn't align perfectly but I can live with the results as I am pretty certain I can hide the cut ends when they are screwed together.

Obviously the half sleepers were easy to move and I got innovative with a sack truck and a length of rope to get the four full length sleepers moved individually to the back of the house.

That was about it for the day, apart from regular comforting sessions for dog #4.  One of the local farmers is using bird scarers on a crop and every time she hears the bang she becomes very nervous and leaps up on to my lap.  

She is an odd dog, delightful in her own way, but nowhere near as calm and friendly as Whiffler or Hobson.  She is not particularly social and will spend most of the day sleeping on one of the beds, but then there will be that one day when she wants to sit alongside you and be fussed. She definitely has a full casebook of neuroses, but we have no idea what has caused them.

Another example of her weirdness is that she is a squealer. At the slightest brush she will yelp like she has been stabbed, yet on other occasions she will be playing with the other dogs, getting body slams and she will be impervious to the rough and tumble. Her vocal nature also means that the dog groomers are not overly keen on clipping her, yet I can clip her at home without a fuss.

She is a dog of contradictions, without a doubt. Basically, I think she may well be a spoilt princess!

Lazy Day

 The night out with B&H was a bit of a late one and the weather was forecast to be dreadful for most of today. These two factors made it an easy decision to do bugger all very little today.

It was 30%'s Father's Birthday yesterday so we combined a Supermarket trip with a visit to offer belated birthday salutations.  Coffee and Chocolate cake were consumed and much of the conversation revolved around gardens and the Chelsea Flower Show.  We had a pleasant hour, or so, basking in their conservatory with occasional interruptions from passing thunder storms.

Back at home we kicked back and did very little other than remark upon the inaccuracy of the weather forecast.*

TP had spent the morning messing around on the Avon with a few of his mates in a borrowed boat. They all turned up in the early evening and settled down to a spot of light drinking with burgers and sausages to soak up the booze.

His friends are great fun and they seemed perfectly happy for 30% and I to join them for a drink and a bite and, trust me, they do not seem to apply additional filters to the conversation just because the grown ups are there.**

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* The doom mongers at the Met Office had started off forecasting biblical downpours for most of the day. This was scaled back to occasional storms by this morning and we actually only had a couple of showers with a spell of thunder in the evening.  I'm not complaining. Both me and my back were grateful for a day away from the Vegetable Garden.

** We learnt that CNC does not just mean Computer Numerical Controlled milling processes!

Metal Sardines

It has come as no surprise that, after passing his motorcycle test at the beginning of the month, TP has now started to look around for a new bike.  He has, rather sensibly, decided that he wants a machine that is capable of eating up the miles with a sprinkling of excitement, rather than an arse in the air, hyper machine capable of breaking the sound barrier ... he is incredibly sensible at times.

He had planned to go over to a large second-hand motorcycle dealer at Malvern to check out a couple of possibilities and I had agreed to go with him. We headed over mid-morning and pulled up outside an anonymous looking warehouse on a trading estate and wandered in.

Once inside the hangar-like space we were met with the sight of over two hundred bikes. They were so tightly packed it was impossible to make sense of what we were seeing or to view any, but a couple, of the bikes properly.  We quickly agreed that we would take a wander around, but that neither of us were particularly taken with the dealer.  Very few of the bikes looked well cared for and there was no way that TP's selection could be removed from the ranks to be given a 360° inspection.

He did try one bike for size and that involved him clambering over one machine, squeezing alongside the bike and attempting to throw a leg over whilst the salesman held another bike over at an angle, so that TP could get it almost upright. We decided that it was ridiculous and headed home without making any commitment other than for him to find another dealer with better quality stock and a show room where you could actually look all round the bike.

Actually there was one other finding from this failed shopping trip.  I did rather like the BMW R1250R and it seemed to fit me rather well.

We headed home and arrived just in time to help a delivery driver unload ten oak sleepers. These will be used to construct two raised beds at one end of the vegetable garden.  

After lunch 30% and I resumed digging duties in the vegetable patch.  By the time exhaustion set in we had dug over about half of the bed and we certainly have enough space to start planting out once the clods have broken down to a finer tilth.

After all of this running around, one would hope for an extended session on the sofa, but we tidied ourselves up and headed over to The Plough & Harrow at Guarlford for dinner with B&H. We had an absolutely lovely time there, great food and great company, a very enjoyable evening.

The Toms are in

For some reason I find it strangely satisfying to repair an item and restore it to usefulness.  

Earlier in the week  I ordered some supplies and the first jobs this morning were to fit a new wooden shaft to a lump hammer and fit a new plastic handle to one of my garden spades.  I suppose these little jobs took the best part of an hour, but these are tools that I have had for years and am incredibly familiar with. I know how they feel in the hand and how they perform. The repairs mean that I won't have to hunt out a replacement and then spend time becoming accustomed to a new set of foibles or performance characteristics. 

This may seem a little sad but repairing an item, rather than replacing it seems to be the right thing to do.

Moving on, Friday morning finally saw me out in the greenhouse planting tomatoes.  That was after I spent a good half an hour faffing around sorting out bamboo canes and lengths of wire to support the vines.  I planted out eight Bloody Butcher plants, which are, apparently, an early ripening variety with a strong flavour. I then added eight Sweet Aperitif cherry tomato plants. We have grown these before and have been very impressed with their cropping and flavour. I finished up with six Alicante plants. This is an heritage salad tomato variety that we have grown before and love for its taste and versatility.

All I need to do now is water them, keep nipping out the side shoots and feed them once they start to flower. Roll on July when the harvest starts.*

The afternoon saw me head out to the vegetable patch and start to dig it over and pull out the weeds that I sprayed last week. It is quite a large area** and it is going to take a few days to get it completed. 30% pitched in too and we have definitely  made a start before we retired for the day.

TP arrived home for a weekend visit this evening. He has been working down in Surrey for the past few months on a Netflix production of The Sandman and had decided that he would host a Bank Holiday BBQ for a few of his friends up here. He arrived just before nine and was somewhat jaded from some strange working hours and a long drive. We caught up on the highlights of each other's news before allowing him to settle and vegetate.

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* We have actually managed to pick tomatoes right through until early December if the weather stays mild and frost free.

** I would guess it is about 5m x 10m, excluding the raspberry canes

More gardening

 The plan for today was to transplant the tomato plants to the greenhouse. It almost happened ...

Step one was to clear the chickweed, that had sprouted over the Winter, and that was soon hoed and raked up.  I noticed that the soil was very dry so I followed that up by forking in a couple of barrows of compost. The organic matter will add nutrients and also assist in holding on to moisture. A few handfuls of meat, bone and blood meal were also scattered to further boost the soil fertility.*

I then drenched the soil with several watering cans of water,  but I still wasn't convinced that the soil was sufficiently moist.  Bugger it!  I fired up the well pump and spent the next twenty minutes saturating the parched soil with a couple of hundred litres of water.  Having finished the soaking I decided that planting should be delayed until tomorrow to allow the water to permeate through the soil.

This gave me some spare time, so the afternoon was spent on my knees hand weeding the path that runs through the vegetable garden and around my raspberry canes.  This took most of the afternoon, but was reasonably easy work and very satisfying to see a nice clear path emerge.

I also noted that we seem to have a nice crop of raspberries forming.

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* We have tried growing tomatoes in grow bags, but we really don't rate them. They are difficult to water, difficult to add supports for the tomato vines, and the plants just don't seem to do that well in them. Pots or  planting directly in to the ground seems to work much better.

A day off

 ... or rain stopped play!

The forecast rain came in overnight and stayed for most of the day.  Our original plan was to have a day in the tomato greenhouse, hoeing the weeds, digging in some compost and planting out the young tomato vines, however the miserable weather did nothing to encourage us, so we spent much of the day indoors.

I reluctantly headed to the computer and spent most of the morning proof reading a draft schedule for the Horticultural Society Autumn Show and can report that the chap in charge of production is a clueless fuckwit.  It looks like it has been assembled by an eleven year old who was intent on using every font, size and colour available to them. It looks fucking awful. Now you might say it is all a matter of taste but I have done a fair bit of desk top publishing in the past and this chap has ignored, or is unaware, of the relevant guidelines and style pointers to produce a decent looking document.

Anyway, I critiqued the draft and sent back a concise, but politely worded, review outlining my suggested revisions and corrections. Let's see what the rest of the committee come back with and what the final version looks like.

Having found my administrative mojo, I persevered with my Horticultural actions and drafted and distributed the table layout plans for the Spring and Autumn shows. I know that there will be more to do once the minutes are produced from last night's meeting, but at least I have done something.

I must admit that I ran out of steam as the afternoon progressed and, for the first time in a while, I settled in from of the television ... I also lit a fire as it was bloody chilly this evening.

Do deer eat pumpkin plants?

The weather has turned and today was overcast, still mild, but nothing like the lovely sunny days we have had recently.

The plan for today was to start our planting out.  We are later than usual getting our plants in to the ground for a variety of reasons. We hope that they will catch up now that the weather finally seems to be improving.

The first task for today was to dig over the old chicken run in the orchard.  The coop and run were dismantled and disposed of last year and we have decided that the old run might be the perfect rich soil for our pumpkin crop.  

Now I am on record as not being a fan of pumpkins. I've tried the soup and the pie and neither are particularly noteworthy.  They aren't dreadful, but if I am going to eat a pie or a bowl of soup it ain't going to be pumpkin based. There are far nicer things out there to eat.

However, I do like an over large vegetable, particularly since we discovered that our garden is perfect for growing brassicas and one of our giant savoy cabbages won first prize at the local Horticultural Club Annual Show in 2022.  A photograph of the specimen even made the front cover of the Paris Magazine.

Apologies for the digression. I like an over large vegetable and, when buying seeds for this year's vegetable crops, I purchased a pack of Atlantic Giant pumpkin seeds in a fit of deranged lunacy.  The fruit of the Atlantic Giant is capable of approaching or exceeding one tonne in weight in the hands of an expert.  Now I am far from an expert, but I would like to exhibit a reasonably large fruit in the pumpkin class at this year's show.

By lunchtime we had dug over the old run, removed the weeds and applied a liberal covering of compost.  Meat, bone and blood meal was sprinkled in to the holes and the young plants were introduced to their new home.

I just hope the bloody deer don't eat them!

The afternoon was spent clearing space in the flower beds for some of the Irises that we purchased from Pershore College Nursery last Friday.  It seems so very simple as I type this but, in reality, it involved considerable effort to remove large quantities of day lilies (Hemerocallis), weeding and improving the soil before the new plants could be introduced to the beds and watered in.

By five o'clock we had had enough of the garden and got ourselves cleaned up. Our days were not over yet! 30% headed out for an aquafit session with two of her friends and I had a Horticultural Society meeting to chair at the other end of the village.

It was close to nine o'clock before we slumped in front of the television with our supper.

Well, that looks a little better!

 Monday was another day in the garden and I finally managed to finish clearing the overgrowth from the lawn and borders on to the drive.  It has made quite difference and the front of the house now likes like it is under management rather than badly neglected.  

30% and I cut back and dug out a huge Honeysuckle from the front border, which is now residing in a wheelbarrow pending transplantation.  Our original plan was to insert it in to one of the hedges, but one test hole proved that it would be a horrendous task to dig it in. We therefore decided to plant it alongside Rose Cottage where it can do its worst to screen the tin shed.

As the afternoon drifted in to early evening, I mixed up a couple of batches of Roundup and sprayed the grass growing amongst the cobble effect, blocks of the drive.  I then continued spraying weeds up the path to the front door.

Hopefully the Postman will appreciate the tidier route to the post box and will no longer get soaked now the Honeysuckle has been removed..

Once the weedkiller takes effect, the front of the house should look a little less like Granny Weatherwax's cottage.

The Ingrates

It was another early start and I was up and drinking coffee by half past five. I should point out that I would have rather been snoring for another two hours.  The plan for this morning was to head over to the Hereford & Worcester shooting ground for a round of clay shooting.

Bubbles and Ben picked me up just after nine o'clock and we met up with the Lawn Mower Man at the ground.  I had an indifferent shoot and ended the morning with a score of 61/100.  I did have one outstanding stand where I managed an 8/10 while the others, including Bubbles struggled to hit one of the targets at all!*

The plan for the rest of the day was to continue clearing the overgrowth of lawn from the edge of the drive. I made some headway, but my blood sugar kept dipping and this, combined with tiredness, meant that I gave in at about five in the afternoon.

Having dealt with Sunday's events I will now move on to the title of today's Journal entry.  One might recall that earlier in the week, 30% and I purchased four goldfish to populate one of our rainwater tanks. There are  two interconnected tanks and we use them for watering the garden.  The fish are there for pleasure and to predate the mosquito larvae in the Summer months.  The first tank is about forty gallons capacity and is home to half a dozen goldfish**, many pond snails, a jungle of Elodia and a Water Lily that, so far, has failed to flower. The second tank is probably about sixty gallons in size and is also home to a jungle of Elodia and many, many and snails

Now the weather has warmed it is a twice daily ritual to scatter a few pellets of fish food on the surface and take a childish delight in seeing the fish rise and eat.  However the four new fish have declined to make an appearance since they were released on to their new home in tank number 2. The little arseholes lurk away in the depths, totally hidden in the jungle of Elodia. I swear the little gits are doing it on purpose ... "right he's fucked off now, let's go and bask at the surface for a couple of hours".

30% thinks that they are stuffing their faces on snail eggs. Me, I'm not so sure! At feeding time I creep up to the tank in a manner that would make a mouse sound like a bloody clog dancer and still the fucking ingrates fail to show their little goldfish faces.

I'm also pretty sure that snail eggs do not comprise a balanced diet.

---

* as Bubbles says "I do like a dropper" ... a clay at the end of its trajectory, that is falling to the ground.

** I am fairly sure that I saw a pair of the fish in tank #1 mating a couple of weeks ago, so fingers crossed that we may have young later in the year ... provided they don't get eaten.

Progress & Fun

 The days are getting longer and I tend to wake earlier as the mornings become lighter.* This morning I was up and about by half past five. I took a leisurely start to the day enjoying the birdsong and the solitude of the garden.

30% headed off to Alcester Food Festival this morning whilst I stayed at home and took the dogs out for an early walk.  On my return I finished mowing the small lawn that borders the garage and the verge outside the house.

I must have been feeling keen as I then grabbed a spade and started to clear the grass that had overgrown the brick edging to the lawn and was now encroaching on the drive with vigour. About an hour later I had completed one section of the lawn edging and was amazed at the difference. Previously it had looked scruffy and unkempt, but now it looked like it was being managed, although there was still some work to do.** The state of the drive has been a constant irritation to me for the past year as my back prevented me from attending to it. I'm surprised at how positive I feel having finally made a start on this crappy, ball ache of a job. 

As the afternoon drew to a close I showered, shaved and changed. Bubbles and Bobbyn had arranged for us all to go and see Giffords Circus at Sudeley Castle. We had a lovely evening. The weather was perfect and this little rural circus was fantastic. The title of this year's show is Avalon and is loosely themed on King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.  We saw jugglers, acrobats, magicians and clowns. There was an act with four trained terriers that was very funny and the in-tent band was very professional.

The event was very intimate with the acts taking place no more than 20' feet from our seats and this close proximity made every aspect of the performance very real. I absolutely loved the show and I have a feeling that this may well become an annual outing for 30% and me.

---

* It is years since I have used an alarm on a regular basis. Having been a telecommuter for the best part of twenty years it was little matter how scruffy or unshaven I was as I started my day. Ten minutes could also be found to make a coffee and a slice of toast if I had really slept late.

** 30% was absolutely gobsmacked by the visual impact of this grass clearance. I may well have made a rod for my own back as there is another tweet or thirty yards of edging to do ... and then I need to clear the weeds from the middle of the drive.

I keep thinking it is Saturday

 For the second time in as many weeks I have become temporally detached. I kept thinking that today is Saturday.  I am sure I will get used to this in time but, at present, the novelty of having all this time available makes most days* seem like the start of a weekend.

Anyway, on to today's Journal entry. 30% had noticed that there was a plant sale on at Pershore Horticultural college, so we headed over and took a look. In fact we took more than a look and loaded a few varieties of Irises in to the back of the car before heading home.

We detoured via Goll's Nursery to pick up some Roundup concentrate and an impulse buy of four gold fish for one of our large rainwater tanks.

We lunched and then I set to with the Roundup. The tomato greenhouse, vegetable garden and pumpkin patch** were all sprayed to knock back the vigorous weed growth.  I'm not a great one for garden chemicals and will normally go for manure or meat and bone powder to fertilise the garden along with crop rotation and fallow periods. However, I am not some green vigilante and there are times when a spray is necessary to get on top of a situation.***

A lack of garden maintenance last year, due to my bad back, has meant that areas of the garden have got out of hand.  Large scale digging and hand weeding is likely to inflame the condition, so weedkillers will be used to get me back to the point where gentle hoeing will suffice.

30% made a start on raking up the grass and weeds from my brush cutting in the orchard while I attended to the spraying.  She was delighted to come across a Greater Spotted woodpecker nest as well as deer droppings and I can see that we will need to get the trail camera set up again.

I then dragged out the lawn mower and managed to complete the front, the back and the areas around the greenhouses, before collapsing on the patio with a glass of wine.

I appreciate that, to many, this was not the most exciting of days, but we had a lovely day and the garden is finally starting to look loved again.

---

* "most" not "all", Having an appointment or arrangement of any sort has a negating effect on this phenomenon. From now on they may well be referred to as retirement disruptors, particularly the appointments I don't want to attend.

** The site of the old hen house in the orchard. We are hoping that the soil in the old run will be very fertile and ideal for the Atlantic Gian pumpkin plants that have been nurtured from seed.

*** I also favour Phostrogen for our tomatoes and other vegetable crops

Getting my steps in

 Today 30% had arranged for a sub-sect of the Coven to come over for a stitch 'n bitch  session. Allegedly this is basically a coffee morning where needlework and knitting happens, although the reality is that it is an excuse for a social gathering.

True to form 30% hauled herself out of bed when she felt like it, rather than giving herself plenty of time and then informed me that she had a lot to do, including a trip to Waitrose for milk and cakes.

I watched her rush around for a while and then asked if there was anything she needed me to do. Now 30% is an intelligent woman and she was well aware that I had absolutely zero investment in the stitch 'n bitch session so my offer was kindly accepted and limited to carrying a basket of washing upstairs.

Now guilt isn't really a healthy emotion, so, to avoid it at all costs, I decided that I should take the dogs out for a walk. My justification for this was that they would be less excitable when the coven arrived and the forecast indicated heavy rain for most of the afternoon. I would be out of the way of house tidying activities, look like I was helping and avoid getting a soaking later in the day.

As we exit the house I might have mentioned to Hobson that it looked like I was helping when, in fact, I was participating in a massive skive.

Upon my return I found that coven had arrived and were sat out at the table on the patio taking advantage of the sunny weather.  I popped down and said my "hellos"* as I know several of them before returning and jumping through further pension related, administrative hoops.

I headed back up to the orchard once the coven had left** and after an hour I have just about finished. I can now walk around the permitter without getting stung or covered goose grass and I think the next step will be a bonfire and a couple of chainsaw sessions to clear the final tricky corner for once and for all.

The forecast rain never arrived, so Bobbyn and I had our usual Thursday walk out on the Three Miler and discussed options for weekend entertainments.

As I slumped on the sofa I realised that I had been on my feet all day, including two dog walks. It was no wonder they felt a little sore.

---

* and pinched a slice of coffee and walnut cake

** It would have been somewhat churlish to brush cut while the ladies were enjoying the peace and quiet of the garden

Another day, another fraction

 Not a huge amount to report for today. 

The morning was spent engrossed in Bob Mortimer's autobiography And Away while waiting for a chap to come and have a look at a possible problem area in the garden.

Once he had left, I fuelled up the brush cutter and continued my Herculean effort in the orchard. By the end of the day, I estimate that I have knocked back about four fifths of the undergrowth.

But, and it is a big BUT, I have consciously been avoiding the top, right hand corner of the plot. It is a fairly steep bank and is the one area of the orchard where we have yet to take out the Elder shoots, cut down the fruit trees* and burn the debris from the hedge laying in 2021.

It is a bloody mess and will be difficult to clear. 30% and I really need to bring out the chain saw, get a bonfire going and finish this job in the next few weeks.

---

*These are long beyond pruning back in to productivity. They are also old and uninspiring varieties and we are, as yet, undecided whether to replant with fruit or replace them with native British trees. I am very tempted by the latter option as we already have a fine young Ash growing there.

What's the worst than could happen?

 Much of this morning was spent on administrative stuff. Pension forms were completed. tax forms were checked and filed, an agenda for an upcoming Horticultural Club meeting was drafted.* This admin extravaganza culminated in a forty minute wait to talk to HM Revenue & Customs and get them to make a tax code adjustment to my little Civil Service pension.

The afternoon saw me undertake either a work of genius, or possibly the most stupidest thing I have ever done.  The blade on the porn mower is well past its best and a spare blade has lurked in the shed for years. The reason that it hasn't been fitted is because it isn't quite right ... it is the right length and has the right size holes, it is just that it is missing a single hole that aligns with a pin on the mower drive shaft.

I decided that it could be made to fit by simply drilling a hole in the blade in the right place. Well, nearly the right place ... a couple of minutes with a Dremel and a grinding stone had it locking on to the drive shaft nicely.

I tightened it all up and pulled on the starting cord a couple of times. The porn mower roared in to life and the new blade cuts beautifully. However, I do feel a little nervous about having a 20" piece of sharpened metal spinning at several hundred revolutions per minute in close proximity to my ankles. After all, I have potentially impacted its structural integrity. 

In response to today's Journal entry title ... I'm not sure I really want to think about that!

I spent a further hour up in the orchard and can report that two thirds of it are now cut back. I can see a bonfire happening in the next week or so, or a monumental session with a rake and pitch fork to clear away the grass and nettle cuttings.

My final exertion was a walk on the Three Miler with Bobbyn and the dogs. We had an interesting chat where she seemed interested in a piece of self-analysis, whilst I suggested that this was completely unnecessary and that she simply need to ensure that calendars were shared or synchronised. 

---

* Don't Ask! I felt guilty at last year's AGM and offered to support a friend who had literally been thrown under the bus by 30%.  In the absence of any volunteers for the vacant Chairman role, she volunteered Hoppy.  Now Hoppy is a very skilled gardener, but he was in the process of assuming a new role for a large seed producer out in East Anglia. I knew he was going to be very busy, so I stupidly volunteered to act as co-chair ... I seem to have been doing a lot of the chairman stuff over the past few months.

Rinse and repeat

 Monday was very similar to Sunday, except there was no visit from Mr & Mrs Tweedy.

The dogs were walked early in the day and the afternoon was spent attempting to tame the jungle that is optimistically referred to as  the orchard.  By the time the rain set in I had cleared the nettles and goose grass (Galium aparine) from about half of the orchard. The site of the old hen house* is now visible and the log shed** should be accessible after the next phase of the battle plan.

The only excitement was when the brush cutter flipped up a chunk of debris. It hit me squarely in the mouth and I could feel a trickle of blood, that and the rain put paid to any further clearance and I retired for the day.

30% enquired about the minor injury and I, somewhat, embellished the facts by advising that I had disturbed a bear in the undergrowth and had wrested it in to submission.

---

* This was a dilapidated 8' by 10' shed with an attached run that served as home to our chickens until they were decimated by a fox attack last year. 30% and I dismantled this rat infested shack last year and ceremoniously burnt the timbers on a bonfire.

** A corrugated iron, open fronted shed that has a jaunty lean due to rabbit induced undermining.  The shed bears the name Rose Cottage for some unknown reason. It was originally filled with a huge pile of kitchen worktops and other particle board offcuts.  These were cleared and disposed off and it is now stacked with several cubic metres of logs from the trees felled in our garden clearance activities.

A start in the orchard

 It was another beautiful day and my first objective was to walk dogs before it got too warm for them. 

We headed out on to the Three Miler and reached The Grange at the edge of the village, before turning and heading back home.  The reason for an out 'n back walk rather than a circular route is that one of the lanes is still incredibly wet and muddy following a very wet Winter and Spring.  When I say "muddy" I mean "MUDDY", the lane is about four hundred yards long and has a stream on one side and a high bank to the other. Over the past months repeated land slips from the bank have dumped large quantities of earth on the road and, at one point on the stream side, the land at the edge of the road has subsided and is now about 3' lower.

Basically it is filthy down there and I am just too lazy to wash off three dogs if I can manage to keep them clean walking a similar distance on cleaner lanes.

I returned home after the walk to be greeted by 30% and Mr & Mrs Tweedy*. We sat out on the patio, enjoying the sunshine and exchanged news before they headed off with some of the plants that had been removed from the beds yesterday.

My plan for the afternoon was to knock back the nettles and long grass in the orchard, so I got the brush cutter from the garage and assembled it in the workshop. This was one of those points where I took delight in the luxury of time now available to me ... Normally I would have connected the cutter head to the motor unit, topped up the petrol tank and just got on with the job because tomorrow would be consumed by work.

However, that scenario no longer applies. I had the time to remove the blade, take a file and sharpen the cutter blade before I even considered starting the job. Once I was happy with a nice sharp cutter I headed out to the orchard and made a start. It was hot, physical work but it was one of those jobs that is very satisfying as one can easily see the swathes of orchard now free of 2' high nettles and grass.

I estimate that I have cleared a quarter, maybe one third, of the orchard, but I'm free tomorrow too ... weather permitting.

---

* Her Parents

Divide & Conquer ... Us verses the Garden

 It was another glorious day and we hit the garden with a vengeance.

In yesterday's Journal entry I made mention of the large gardens, but didn't go in to detail of how much work will be needed to get them back to a semblance of order.  

The orchard, for example, is the best part of a quarter of an acre but was dominated by two overgrown conifers and apple and plum trees that were long past their best. They hadn't been pruned in years and fruit laden branches had been torn off in high Autumn winds. Over the past three years we have felled the conifers and the trees that were beyond rejuvenation and converted them to firewood. The orchard hedge* was laid, and mountains of particle board, corrugated roofing** and other domestic debris were collected up and disposed of. 

In the garden, trees have been pruned, the vegetable patch has been fenced and dug over and the borders are being attended to ... slowly.

This all sounds like it is nearly sorted, but this is far from the truth. There are years of work to tame and restrain the rampant growth and a bad back last year meant that very little was achieved other than lawn mowing. We will be well in to our retirement before we sit back and say "well that's the garden finished".

30% spent this morning reducing the size of huge clumps of Stinking Iris and Orange Day Lillies that have run rampant over the years. I grabbed a few tools and dismantled an old teak picnic table*** that we inherited when we bought the house. The legs are well beyond repair and, since 30% has invested in a replacement that now sits on the patio that we had laid last Autumn, it is time for it to go. The planks forming the table top and seats are still sound, so these have been stacked in the car port for a future project.

A leisurely lunch was taken  and we returned to the garden. The afternoon was spent dividing an Achillea Cloth of Gold and a Red Hot Poker followed by much weeding and further thinning to create space for the divided plants.

It was well past five o'clock by the time we finished and settled ourselves out on the patio with a beer and a glass of wine.

---

* An optimistic descriptor, if ever there was one! The "hedge" was long neglected and had been supplemented by a length of stock fencing. It was better described as a row of 20' high hawthorn trees spaced at about five to eight feet distance. A local hedge layer came and laid them in the first Spring and we now have a fantastic length of hedging, bursting with life and providing a nesting habitat for the local birds.

** Potentially asbestos based

*** I shouldn't complain, as it has served us well for the past three years, but shifting the damned thing every time I mow the lawn is a complete pain in the backside!

New Pastures

 Today was another beautiful day after a fairly miserable, soggy early Spring.  

The fine weather has encouraged the grass to grow and much of today was spent mowing the lawns and strimming the Cow Parsley on the verges outside the house.

At this point it might become apparent that we are no longer living at The Pile so, with little else to report, I'll do my best to give a reasonably concise account of our move to a new home.

Prior to the Covid pandemic 30% and I put The Pile on the market, as we decided that we would like a little more garden and a quieter location away from the High Street in the village.  We had a few bites and several time wasters during the pandemic, but all of these came to naught. We therefore took the place off the market and spent our time organising a wedding instead.

In 2020 we entered a state of marital harmony and the days at the Pile slipped by. After all, we had spent the best part of twelve years extending, extensively restoring and redecorating the place and everyone we knew said it was lovely and looked somewhat baffled when moving was mentioned.

In the Autumn of that year I was sat at my desk when the 'phone rang. I picked it up and was very surprised to take a call from Gilles.*  Gilles is the son of a couple who own a rather quaint cottage out on the Three Miler. Sadly, his father died a few years ago, but his Mum was still there.

A rather rambling conversation ensued, but the main point was that the property was becoming a little too much for his aged mother and she was planning to move out to Herefordshire to be closer to Gilles.  Gilles had originally been in line to inherit the cottage, but was settled in Herefordshire and therefore wanted to offer it to us. He had seen how we had restored and refurbished the Pile and felt that 30% and I were the ideal people to continue his father's legacy.

Although we were touched by this compliment, we** were unsure whether we wanted another project, but arranged to take a look around the property.

A few days later we turned up and discovered that the brick cottage was actually half timbered*** and sat in 3/4 of an acre of gardens and orchard with a well, a vegetable patch and the nearest neighbour was a quarter of a mile away.

The property needed a lot of updating, but we fell in love and after much faffing around a price was agreed, a buyer was found for the Pile and by February 2021 we had moved in.

This narrative makes it all sound wonderful so, for balance, I must briefly mention the challenges of downsizing and the perils of booking a removal firm who claim to do the packing ... but don't really, a seller who won't name their price, the risk of the property being placed on the open market and septic tanks in general. 

We live and learn! 

---

* 30% and I know Gilles and his family from walking the dogs and have had many conversations leaning on the gate to their cottage, but we were never close friends. We have dog walked with Gilles, his wife and Archie and, on one occasion, they came to the Pile for dinner, but were acquaintances rather than friends.

** I

*** The cottage had been built around 1700 and the timbers of the outer walls had suffered over the intervening years and had been replaced with local bricks, probably in the 1800s. However the interior walls retained the timbers with lath and plaster infill.

Well that took longer than it should have

Process development, process refinement or just plain old process have been significant elements for most of my working life.

As I enter retirement I am less than delighted to find that there are still some absolutely horrendous processes out there, lurking like some malevolent, disfigured homunculi. Let me explain ...

In a recent chat with our financial advisor, it was agreed that there was little point transferring the small amount of pension funds that were accrued in the nine months of employment. The best thing to do was to simply withdraw the funds and use them for living expenses.  This morning I wandered over to the computer and applied myself to this task.  

At this point I will mention that my former employe had complicated matters by switching pension providers mid way through my employment, so it was necessary to send out two virtually identical requests to Scottish Widows and Standard Life. 

The Scottish Widows request seemed relatively straightforward.* I accessed my on-line account, found the service I needed and followed their instructions to send an email to the address provided ...simple, a little basic perhaps, but job done!

Then on to Standard Life. Again I accessed my on-line account, found the service I needed and clicked on a "button" to initiate the process to withdraw my funds. I then exited my account, stupidly thinking that was nice and simple too.

Twenty minutes later I received an email from Standard Life advising that a reply to my request had been posted against my account. I logged on again and opened up their message. It acknowledged my request to cash in my funds and informed me that I needed to call a telephone number to progress my request. At this point I swore under my breath and asked the rhetorical question "why the fuck didn't they just provide the 'phone number when I clicked on the cash in your funds button?"

I called the number, waited in a queue for 10 minutes before a member of their staff went through various identify checks and then asked what I needed. I advised her that I wanted to cash in my small fund and she advised that I had come through to the wrong number and needed to be transferred elsewhere.

She kindly transferred me and another 10 minute wait ensued, followed by further identity checks and a reiteration of my requirement. I was then advised that I had come through to the wrong number and needed to call the number that I had dialled in the first instance. In my mind I was saying "For fucks sake!" but I maintained an aura of restrained frustration and advised that the number given was my starting point to this charade.

A further transfer and 10 minute wait ensued, during which I was given the  option to have a call back in the next 48 hours. I pointed out that a further ten minute wait was better than 2 days and hung on in the queue. Eventually my call was answered, identify checks were completed and my reason for calling was ascertained.

After a couple of basic questions about why I wanted to withdraw the cash, I was advised about financial fraud and asked whether an annuity might be an option.  I pointed out that the matter had been discussed with my IFA and withdrawing the funds was my best option.

At this point I was advised that a set of forms would be put in the post. I would need to complete and return these to move my request forward.

At this point I realised that the forms, accompanied by warnings of financial fraud and alternative options could have been posted across to me following the first fucking click of the "cash in my fund" button on the bloody web site! Instead I endured thirty plus minutes on the 'phone, involving three different Customer Service Representatives to achieve the same goal.

There is still work out there for a good Operational Architect.

---

* so far!

Catching up

Clearly I have not made the greatest of starts to maintaining The Journal, but, hopefully, the following summary will get me back on track ... it is fair to say that, having cut the chains that tied me to a desk, I am somewhat reluctant to sit at one for hours on end.

Thursday, 2nd May, 2024

The main achievement was to finish the project for The ELF.  

I was recruited to produce a set of four coasters for their 5th Anniversary, which is traditionally marked with a gift made from wood. The ELF supplied me with a number of slices of oak that had formed part of the table decorations at their Wedding Reception on 4th May, 2019. These had dried and split over the intervening years and were perfect for a set of hexagonal coasters with a resin infill. 

The coasters were delivered in the early evening and The ELF was delighted with the result. I still have concerns over the suitability of the resin and promised that I was more than willing to re-work them, if needed.

We then continued on from that delivery to Redditch College to attend the Catering Students' Mexican Dinner.  The college catering course holds regular set menu dining evenings to give the students experience of cooking and serving meals to the general public.  The food is always attractively priced and of very good quality, and tonight was no exception. We were joined by a small group of friends and had a fantastic evening and three delicious courses of Mexican fare.

Friday, 3rd May, 2024

The morning was spent hurling clothing and groceries into bags before throwing ourselves and Hobson* in to the car and heading over to Worcester to pick up B&H. 

B&H and a colossal quantity of booze were collected and we headed over to Brewood*** in South Staffordshire. We arrived shortly before 2 o'clock and unloaded our belongings on to Sir Ulfius and acquainted ourselves with the layout of this 55' narrow boat.  A while later we were given a demonstration by Cliff and we headed off down the Shropshire Union Canal towards Autherley Junction.

Within a couple of hours we turned right on to the Staffs and Worcester canal and headed through the Tettenhall, Compton and Wightwick districts of Wolverhampton.  The weather was indifferent today and the grey cloud eventually produced drizzle leading to rain as the evening closed in.

Friday evening was spent moored just after Mops Farm Bridge and supper was a Chilli con carne pre-prepared by 30% and a substantial quantity of red wine .... bed time was not late!

Saturday, 4th May, 2024

Our original intention was to cruise as far as Kinver before turning and heading back to Brewood. 

As we chugged along, we realised that this was feasible, but could be a bit of a slog. We therefore agreed to turn the boat around at the winding hole**** just after Hinksford Lock and cruise back up the Staffs & Worcester to moor just below The Bratch. 

The Bratch is flight of three locks in very close proximity and very likely to be a bottle neck. We had therefore decided that we would make an early start on Sunday and get through them well before anyone else had stirred.

The weather was lovely and sunny and the canals and locks were an absolute delight showing that Britain's Industrial Heritage is well worth experiencing as a leisure activity. The casual reader might question Wolverhampton as a choice of holiday venue, but I have to report that the canal, towpath and local area was lovely and we soaked in the peaceful atmosphere as we chugged along at four miles per hour. 

Refreshment breaks included The Swan at Compton for a swift couple at lunchtime and The Waggon & Horses at Wombourne for our evening meal. 

Sunday, 5th May, 2024

I woke just after 6 o'clock and headed up the towpath with Hobson. He "did his business" and I checked out The Bratch in the early morning light. The locks were set in our favour and within the hour we were gently slipping in to the lower lock. 

"B" was lock monkey and he soon had the grasp of the process of which lock paddles to open and when. We made trouble free progress and exited the top lock within about thirty minutes.

The rest of the day was much the same as yesterday; bright sunny weather, cold beers and wine and taking in the delights of the canal vistas. We made our way back up to Autherley Junction and were back on to the Shropshire Union by mid afternoon. We continued until we were about half a mile from Brewood Wharf and moored for the evening overlooking the fields leading to St Mary's church, Brewood.

30% had taken the precaution to ring ahead and book us a table for dinner at The Oakley Arms. This hostelry was about a mile and a half from our mooring and the brisk walk to make our reservation had certainly given us an appetite. The food was fantastic and the walk back seemed far shorter than the earlier route march.

Monday, 6th May, 2024

We needed to be back at Brewood Shaft by nine o'clock and this deadline was easily met.  Cliff was on hand to greet us and it took less than an hour to unload the boat and re-pack the car.

An hour or so had us back in Worcester and farewell hugs were exchanged. Back at home we abandoned the car, ensured that Hobson had had a wee and then we both had a massive kip with neither of us stirring until the early afternoon.  We had both had a fabulous break, but had forgotten just how tiring a boating holiday can be.

The rest of the day was spent on the mundanities of unpacking and tidying away.

Tuesday, 7th May 2024

I forgot to mention that I woke yesterday with a painful left eye and it came as little surprise to find that today I am quite sensitive to bright light. I occasionally suffer from corneal abrasions and I seem to have incurred another.

This means that sunglasses are needed whenever outside and indoor activities are preferred.

The first activity of the day was to drop Hobson off at the Vets for his castration ... the poor little devil seemed delighted to be there. I am guessing he won't be a cheerful when we collect him later in the day.

The rest of the day included a chat with our Financial Advisors, who gave 30% and me a list of activities we need to complete and we also had a visit from "Oil Tank Will" to complete a visual check of our oil fired central heating system.

Hobson was collected in the afternoon and is, unsurprisingly, a little subdued, but is not wearing a cone of shame.

Later in the day I had a walk around the Three Miler with Bobbyn, her three terriers, Whiffler and Dog no. 4***** and that just about covers Tuesday.

Wednesday, 8th May 2024

I was home alone today as 30% was out on a felting course at a local craft centre.

My eye is improving but still not up to the lovely sunny weather we are having, so my objective today was to complete a set of forms that are required for an upcoming consultation with a Spinal surgeon.

These were completed and submitted and, if I am totally honest, some sleeping took place on the sofa,

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* Hobson is our 16 month old Apricot Standard Poodle. We, sadly, lost Marauder** back in late September 2022 a month before her 13th birthday. She will never be forgotten, nor replaced, but Hobson arrived in March 2023 as we have learnt that three poodles are "just enough". Hobson is an absolute delight, but can be a little clingy, so we decided that he should accompany us on our mini break.

** "I've got shit to bark at in the After Life Bad Man!"

*** Pronounced brewed/brood

**** A point in the canal where it is wide enough to turn the boat around. 

***** Dog no. 4 was introduced way back in March 2020, but I still need to give her an alias ... let me think on that

A couple of wins

 TP disappeared shortly after nine o'clock this morning to head over to get further acquainted with the Kawasaki Versys, apply L Plates and head over to the Driving Test Centre in Worcester.

Today's primary objective was to get the lawns mowed in advance of our Narrow Boating mini break over the Bank Holiday weekend.  Overnight showers meant an early start was not going to be possible, so I spent the morning on various minor distractions, including the removal of about 10 days of stubble from my chin.

TP called at about half past eleven to let me know that he had passed his test and sincere congratulations were offered. Some parents might be horrified about their children riding motorcycles, but I find myself in a difficult position.  I have ridden motorcycles, in one form or another, for close to 45 years. It would certainly be hypocritical of me to attempt to dissuade TP from riding, but I want to put on record that I am, of course, concerned for his health and safety. 

I have ridden with him on many occasions including the purchase of hist first 125cc Yamaha to the day I let him have a quick run out on the Ducati 996.* He is an incredibly safe rider with great observational skills.  I hope he has as much riding pleasure in the coming years as I have had.

Lunch happened and then the porn mower  was dragged from the shed. I should add, at this point, that the porn mower really needs renaming since it is now 13 and the passing years are starting to show.  I have a new ride-on Stihl mower, but the ground is still way too wet for that beauty, so the porn mower** still gets used on a regular basis.

The lawns here are close to half an acre and it took most of the afternoon, with a couple of breaks, to get them cut. I checked my step counter after they were done and realised that I had walked close to 6,000 steps and covered at least two and a half miles. I was quite surprised by those statistics, but I do have a healthy cynicism of the output accuracy of the Google Fit app.

As the afternoon became the evening, I headed out on the R nineT and dropped a set of keys off with Bubbles. Bubbles and his good lady; Bobbyn are house sitting for us this weekend and, not unusually, our holiday preparations are veering towards disorganised and last-minute.

The final event of the day was a trip in to Redditch to see Andy Parsons Bafflingly Optimistic tour at the Palace Theatre. It was a reasonable gig with the occasional incisive comment that shows what a skilled performer he really is. Despite being knackered after a lot of mowing, both 30% and I thoroughly enjoyed this mid week outing.

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* Sold back in 2021. Not forgotten, but not missed either ... it's probably my age!

** I need the exercise.

Green is good?

 The past couple of days seem to have been mostly consumed by my BMW R nineT. 

It's a convoluted tale, but I will try to be as concise as possible. TP has an A2 motorcycle license* which he has held for many years. He now wants to upgrade to an unlimited A class bike license. This involves repeating the Mod 1 (off road) and Mod 2 (on road) tests on a higher powered machine.

He took a training course earlier in the year, passed the Mod 1 but, unfortunately, did not pass the Mod 2 test. He therefore needed to repeat the Mod 2 test but did not have access to a training school fleet of bikes for the test.

He had already arranged to borrow his mate's Kawasaki Versys 650, which is a little on the tall side, so I asked if he wanted to try my BMW for size. He agreed that this was a good idea, so Monday saw me wander out to the garage and attempt to start the bike. 

None of my bikes had been ridden for at least 18 months as I spent 8 months of 2023 virtually housebound with a spinal condition. The condition is currently in remission, so one of the post-retirement priorities was to get some miles ridden on two wheels.**

Apologies! I digressed. After 18+ months the BMW had a flat battery, despite connection to a trickle charger. There followed an hour of messing around and reading instructions before I simply removed the seat and got an alternative charger connected up.  I also rang my favourite local Motorcycle Dealer/Workshop and got an MOT provisionally booked for the following day, subject to me getting the damned Teutonic beast to start.

The rest of the day was punctuated with visits to the garage to check on the battery charging progress, as indicated by the plentiful, but unintuitive, indicator lights.

Tuesday dawned and I wandered out to the garage to check on progress. I saw multiple green lights on the charger and hoped that this was positive news. A little before nine o'clock I grabbed my helmet, jacket and gloves and wandered out to urge her in to life.

It now gets a bit anticlimactic from here on. The bike started easily and the ride over to the workshop was a delight. Within 40 minutes the test was passed and I returned home to "throw a bucket of water at her" as she was pretty grimy after more than a year in a dusty garage.

TP appeared later in the day, the bike was taxed and we took a ride out to see what he thought. After much consideration he decided that, despite the lower seat height, he would use his friend's Versys.  He said he loved riding it, but found it way too powerful for riding during the test.***

We later realised that the BMW has almost twice the power of the Kawasaki and getting on for three times the grunt of TP's Honda CBR 500. It's no wonder he found it a bit of a handful.

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* Machines of 47 bhp, or less

** I had already got my Moto Guzzi Stornello back on the road at the beginning of April for a three day, retirement celebratory bike tour of Wales with TP and his chums. Unfortunately the Guzzi falls in to the A2 power category and was of no use for TP's test

*** I'm glad I made him endure the hell-hole that is Evesham at the point that Prince Henry's High School releases its students in to the community. The normal chaotic traffic was now at a standstill and low speed crawling was needed to manoeuvre through town. This carefully selected route was certainly using the bike under test conditions.

Lazy Day

 I woke to the sound of rain and discovered that it was bloody cold. The low temperature was reinforced when I accompanied one of the dogs* along the lane for a few yards so he could b) empty his bladder and a) take note of which of the local foxes had visited over night. It was effing freezing!

The miserable weather did not encourage me to get busy and I had a really lazy day. I caught up with TP's news from Thailand and generally mooched about the house doing very little. I extended his knowledge of classic Sci Fi by making him watch Galaxy Quest. He had never seen this little gem and agreed that it had lasted well and was well worth watching.

I then proceeded to have a snooze on the sofa, before waking and deciding that I had definitely had enough of the chilly weather. Kindling was gathered, matches were located ... eventually and a fire was set in the log burner in time for 30%'s return from a shopping trip.

I was appointed head cook this evening and was responsible for rustling up a smoked salmon and pasta dish for dinner. It was judged a success and the ingredients and recipe are outlined below for anyone that might be interested.

Smoked Salmon with Pasta (serves 3)

• 1 large onion, finely chopped
• a good glug of olive oil
• 3 cloves of garlic, crushed
• button mushrooms, sliced
• a slug of white wine (half a glass)
• 1 - 2 tsp of dried thyme
• 100 g smoked salmon, sliced in to thin ribbons
• 200 ml double cream
• 6 - 8 ounces of pasta
• salt and black pepper, to taste

1. Put a frying/saute pan on a medium heat and add a healthy glug of olive oil
2. Add the chopped onions and stir regularly to avoid browning them
3. After 5 minutes, or so, add the thyme, mushrooms and garlic and continue to cook on a medium heat for a further 5 minutes.
4. Add a healthy splash of white wine or cider to deglaze the pan and allow to simmer until most of the wine has evaporated off. This should take about 5 mins
5. Add the sliced smoked salmon, stir though and remove from the heat
6. Meanwhile cook the pasta and drain. Return the pasta to the pan.
7. Add the onion, mushroom and salmon mixture to the pasta and stir in well.
8. Throw in the cream and stir to warm through.
9. Taste, adjust seasoning and serve.

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* Sans coat and hat

I've still got it.

 Today was the day that TP flew home after a month in Thailand. He has spent the first two weeks of his trip travelling solo before meeting up with three of his friends for the final fortnight of the holiday. We have had the odd message and video call with him over the past month and are really looking forward to catching up with him.

I needed to pick up the traveller from Evesham station at 4.30 p.m. this afternoon so, for once, actually had a scheduled appointment that I needed to keep ... more on this later.

The weather is unseasonably cold at the moment and each time I ventured outside I returned wishing that I had donned hat and coat. As a result I spent the first part of the morning pottering* before I steeled myself, put on the aforementioned hat and coat, and headed out with the dogs for a walk. This took longer than expected due to conversational interludes, including one with the Milky Bar Kid who asked me if I was still interested in joining their Game Shoot. I confirmed that I was, but I'm not counting my chickens** yet.

Back at home we lunched before preparing to head out.  Yesterday 30% had asked what time we needed to leave home to collect TP if we popped in to Alcester for a couple of items, then headed over to The Valley at Evesham before arriving at Evesham station at half past four.

She looked at me in incredulous disbelief when I said we needed to leave at half past two. "That's way too early!" she exclaimed. I had barely got two sentences in to my analysis of the journey elements and shopping duration estimates before a look of fatigue passed across her face. Instead I settled with the more concise "remember that I have spent a good chunk of my working life estimating how long activities will take".

30% accepted this with good grace and, unusually, she was ready to leave home at 2.30 sharp. As we headed in to Alcester I pointed out that my estimate included contingency, grabbing a couple of items from Waitrose and I had also factored in twenty minute for a coffee and cake at The Valley.

Well! The afternoon panned out exactly as I had estimated and we arrived at the station 5 minutes before TP's train pulled in ... If I say so, myself, I always a bloody good estimator.

It was lovely to catch up with TP, despite his jet lag, and we look forward to more of his travellers tales as soon as he has got some sleep.

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* Looking busy, but achieving very little

** or rather pheasants

Getting stuff done.

 My plans for today weren't particularly arduous.

I put a batch of honey on to warm after breakfast and then headed out with the dogs for a walk. 

The walk was timed to perfection and I avoided both the pre-work walkers and those that perambulate after dropping their offspring off at school.  We met no-one and enjoyed the bright, but still cool, morning.

On our return I gave the honey a stir and judged that I had time for a coffee before it would be ready for decanting in to jars. Towards the end of the morning I had bottled the first batch of honey and made preparations to process the last of the 30lb tub,

I put the last batch on after lunch and continued my project for the ELF.  I won't go in to detail at this point, but it involves some rather beautifully figured oak disks combined with clear epoxy resin. This afternoon's activity was to set up a level platform that would ensure the resin sat evenly across the surface of the oak. This was more complicated than expected as also needed to ensure that the platform was leak proof and could be covered to prevent dust falling on the surface.*

I eventually got the platform arranged to my satisfaction and then carefully applied masking tape to the oak to retain the resin. It was then a matter of measuring out the resin and hardener, mixing them together for an eternity and then gently pouring the resin on to the wood.

I then offered prayers to various gods in the hope that the resin would set bubble and dust free.

The rest of the afternoon was spent bottling the last of the honey** and tidying up the various implements and receptacles used.

While all of this was going on 30% had nipped out to visit a friend and agree provision buying duties, as we will be spending the early May Bank Holiday with her and her husband narrow boating in Staffordshire ... That is highly likely to meet the definition of a booze cruise if ever there was one! 

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* The resin has a 72 hour set time and any dust falling on the surface will adversely affect the final appearance.

** Four jars have already been purchased from the little stall outside the gate. I only need to shift another dozen before I enter the wonderful land of profit.

Bloody Rodents!

 Thursday started with the continuing task of processing the bulk load of honey. 

I have a 30lb tub of semi solid honey that needs to be warmed, but not too much, so that it can be poured in to jars and sealed. This involves a Bain-Marie technique to avoid overheating the honey and damaging the flavour. Our slow cooker is the tool of choice, but I am limited to batches of about 5lbs, so this is going to take a few days to complete.

After putting on the first batch to warm, 30% and I headed over to a local workshop to drop off the Defender for its MOT test. I had gently woken the beast on Monday, after its Winter hibernation in the car port. It rumbled in to life relatively easily and all seemed well, but a test run down the road showed a fault with its ABS and traction control systems. The brakes were fine, but the ABS wasn't kicking in.

I alerted the chap at the workshop to this fault and he seemed unperturbed and advised that he would look in to it.

The remainder of the morning was spent on honey bottling duties and, shortly before lunch, I received a call to advise that the Defender was ready for collection. 30% and I headed out in the early afternoon to pick it up. 

The chap at the workshop advised that "I had friends" and lifted the bonnet to show a rodent nest in the vicinity of the brake master cylinder. It seems that the little fuckers had chewed through the ABS loom as part of their nest building activities. He had rectified this electrical fault for a very low charge of £30 and advised that, once fixed, the Defender had flown through its annual test with no "advisories".*

Back at home, I pottered around the house and garden for the rest of the afternoon and took the opportunity to steam clean the Defender's seats. These did not look their best after 6 months in the car port and a blast of steam followed by a wipe over with a towel seems to have spruced them up quite nicely.

This evening I was joined by "Bobbyn" for a walk around the Three Miler. On most Tuesdays and Thursdays, for the past few months, she joins me after work and we walk together in a vain attempt to improve our fitness. She brings her three terriers, who enjoy the rural scents and I think she enjoys the opportunity to vent after a long day in the waste management industry.

In the evening 30% and I stumbled across Allelujah, a film adaptation of an Alan Bennet play of the same name.  It was rather good with a cast of some of Britain's finest acting talents; Dench, Jacobi, Jennifer Saunders. 

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* Unlike last year when the inspection suggested that I should keep an eye on the rusty front springs and the condition of tires which are still the original fitments from 2009!

What day is it?

 After reading yesterday's Journal entry I realised that I had barely hinted at the reason for resuming The Journal. 

The main reason is that I now have the time. I know I have plenty of activities to fill my hours with a large garden, three dogs, motorcycles etc*, but I used to feel guilty for grabbing a few** minutes from my working day to recount the previous day's activities, trials and tribulations. Now my time is my own and this is something that I can to do without a trace of guilt.

Now to the main purpose of today's entry ... Anyone who knows me really well will know that I don't have a great grasp on days and dates. I have no problem with the time of day, but ask me the date and I would need to check a calendar and I can be vague on what day of the week it is too.*** 

Working meant that I needed to remember, or at least confirm, what day and date it was to ensure that deadlines were met and meetings attended. Now I am retired, a task or activity can be done at any time and there is much less need to schedule. 

I don't need to wait until the weekend, and hope it isn't raining, to dig over the vegetable garden. I can do it today if the weather is fine. 

Another significant reason for resuming the Journal is therefore to help in anchoring me to the Gregorian Calendar. I am pretty certain that without some form of calendrical discipline I would rapidly go feral and end up like one of those Japanese Soldiers that were posted to, and abandoned on, a remote Pacific islet and still think it is 1952.

I also think that it will give an element of structure to my day, which may be beneficial.

I'll finish by giving a quick summary of today's activities. 30% disappeared early to spend the day with The Coven watching a matinee of Jesus Christ Superstar in Birmingham. This left me home alone bottling honey.

We finally sold the last of the 2022 bumper crop**** a couple of days ago. Our little roadside honey stall does quite good business, so with no chance of a honey crop before August I approached a local beekeeper to ask if he would permit me to bulk buy from him and sell under my own branding. He was more than happy to oblige and I have made a start on clarifying, filtering and bottling 30lbs of local honey for resale from the doorstep.

This wasn't an arduous task, but it did require my attention throughout the day. When not involved in stirring or sterilising jars, I did head out on the Three Miler with the dogs for a constitutional.

Now the more attentive reader will note that there is no mention of a 2023 honey crop and there is a good reason for that, but that can wait for another day.

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* I suppose I had better add family to that list too!

**"Few"! If only Dantes Nine Circles of Hell and The Neat & Today Piano Movers knew how many of their hours I had wasted jotting down this rubbish.

*** I can definitely confirm that it has a "y" in it, if that helps.

**** Over 260lbs from 5 hives

How to begin ... again!

It's a good job that I don't hold my breath when pausing for inspiration. As one of nature's procrastinators, I would have expired many, many years ago! Breathe Bad Man, breathe. Here I now find myself, almost four years since I last posted in the Journal, wondering how to begin ... again?

Shall I note down the long list of excuses for not posting, attempt a summary of the past four years, or shall I just start wittering about my trivial achievements of the past twenty four hours? 

It is probably best if there is an explanation ... 31st March 2024 was my last day of work ... probably! After thirty nine years in a variety of roles, I finally decided that I just really didn't want to do it any more. I realised that I had no problem in finding something to occupy my time, and many of the things I wanted to do were being put off to sit in front of a corporate laptop waiting for something to happen.

As 30% noted, I actually gave up work for Lent as it was on Shrove Tuesday that I politely advised my current employer that "their role did not meet my expectations", gave them a calendar month's notice and did as little as possible until I sloped off on Maundy Thursday.

I have to admit that I had a huge amount of support from 30% in making this decision. She has been semi-retired for a while and finally gave up her last part-time job at the beginning of December, last year.  She dutifully warned me of the challenges I was likely to encounter, particularly regarding identity and income, based on her own experiences. All I can do is see how the next days, months and years unfold to see how I am impacted by this new stage of my life.

The Neat & Tidy Piano Movers* also deserve a special mention in my decision making process. In April last year, they advised that me, my colleagues and our manager were to be made redundant at the end of June. Fortuitously I was approached on the very next day by a Recruitment Consultant asking if I was interested in an exciting** opportunity. I took the bait, polished up my CV and sent it off. I also took advantage of The Piano Movers financial planning benefit for employees over the ago of 55. 

The Piano Movers generously part fund the services of a Financial Advisor, so 30% and I spent many hours collating financial information and submitted it for the scrutiny of an FA who had been recommended by a friend.

Whilst this was going on my application for the new job was progressing and I appeared to be making my way through their interview process successfully.*** 

Now let us jump forward to early June and my final interview with the prospective new employer. That day was a busy one as 30% and I also had our final assessment call with our Financial Advisors. That call came first and they uttered a phrase that I will never forget, "You don't need to work Bad Man".  

Now it has been said that there are two types of people; those who live to work and those who work to live****. I am most definitely a person who has worked to live and this utterance from the FA was accompanied by the proverbial choir of angels singing exaltations in the background.

I suppose I should add that I landed the new job but it is fair to say that my heart wasn't really in it and it turned out to be the complete antithesis of its description during the recruitment process. I stuck at it for nine months but, in the end, I decided that I would rather be free from the home office to do things that please me and others rather than pick at bloated carcasses of IT outsourcing solutions in an attempt to make them palatable to customers and suppliers.*****

I am now nearly a month in to my retirement and have never been so busy. 30% and I celebrated her 60th Birthday with a few days at Llangennith on The Gower, I have constructed a mini desk for the back bedroom and am currently working on a little project for The Elf.

I can already confirm the utterance of so many retired people, "We don't know how we found the time for work"!

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* Courtesy of The Simpsons 

** It wasn't exciting, but the salary was reasonable.

*** So successfully that after perusal of my CV and interview #1 I was offered a more senior role and more money.

**** There are also those who prefer to rely on The State to live

***** I didn't actually mind working on the solutions, it was that I had had my fill of the endless and inane Corporate Bull Shit.