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

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

Unexpected, but quite lovely

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

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

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

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

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

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

Failed again

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mostly surrounded by people

Yep, the title pretty much sums up my weekend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Opera, steam, teach ...

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

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

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

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

We'll miss you Lou.

Mr Fix-it

 Today was not the busiest of days.

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

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

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

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

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

Insurance annoyance

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

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

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

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

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

Rodin's Kiss

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

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

The Kiss

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

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

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

---

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

Oh, it's olive green

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully that'll slow the grass growth.

---

* Fat chance of that!

Let's go to the pub

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

I thought Saturday was for taking it easy

 Today was always going to be a busy day.

We had only just finished breakfast when our friend and landscaping contractor; Jason pulled up at the gate. I have already mentioned that we have engaged the services of a team to sort out the garden drainage and, hopefully, our friendly landscaper will then come in to replace the paving in front of the house and the low wall that borders the front lawn.

I spent twenty minutes talking Jason through the various aspects of the job and then we spent another forty minutes chatting at the gate with his mum* who, by coincidence, happened to be walking past with her dogs.

Once Jason had left I headed in to the kitchen and prepped and blanched two of the celeriac stems that I had unearthed yesterday. 

These activities consumed most of the morning. After lunch we threw the dogs in to the Defender and headed in to Redditch for a walk around the Abbey Fields.**  30% felt that it would be valuable for our dog boarder to see how our dogs behaved on a walk and with other dogs, so she had arranged this session in advance of their stay at the end of the month.

If I am totally honest I really didn't fancy a walk around a muddy field in the cold, but it was much better than expected and we had a pleasant hour getting to know our dog boarder better. She had already got a "good vibe" from our dogs as she has sussed that our three are well socialised and well behaved. This bodes well for the future, as our last experience with boarding kennels was awful. I think we both have a good feeling about Kate (the dog boarder) as she seems caring and practical ... this will allow us 30% to go away and not worry about the dogs.

Having walked with Kate, we then headed home and had a quick cup of coffee before heading out again. This time it was over to Worcester for a check up at the eye clinic. It was pretty much as expected, they are concerned about my intraocular pressure, but it could simply be a side effect of the four weeks of steroid treatment prescribed and recently finished.  They want to see me again in a week to see if the IOP has reduced. If there is no reduction I will be prescribed another set of eye drops.

Well, that's just about it for Saturday, at some point the blanched celeriac got put in the freezer too. I said it was a busy day. I didn't say it was exciting or interesting.

---

* Grubby Sue

** This was a bit of a blast from the past. 30% used to live very close to the Abbey Fields and we would walk Sell-by-date there most days. That was twenty years ago, as we have lived in the village for twenty years, this September ... we're still classed as newcomers.

Frank Skinner at The Warwick Arts Centre

If I'm honest I achieved very little today.

First activity was to take Dog #4 aka The Rat up to the vets for her inoculations. All went well until the vet checked her teeth and advised that she badly needed her teeth descaled. This will involve a full anaesthetic and a bill in excess of £200. The surprising thing about this is that she has the same diet as the other dogs and their teeth are in beautiful condition. Apparently "some dogs get tartar, others don't" and The Rat is one of those that do. An appointment was made and she'll be descaled in early December.

On our return the dull, grey and damp weather did not encourage me to venture far from the house, but  I did make it as far as the veg patch, where I dug up three celeriac plants. I got as far as washing off the earth and removing the leaves and fine roots, before abandoning them in the utility room and finding something far less muddy to keep me occupied.

I finally settled on a novel, that I had started to re-read a good while back, but had abandoned as soon as the day length increased and the weather had improved in the Spring. This kept me amused and occupied until it was time to head over to the Warwick Arts Centre for the third time in the past three weeks.

This evening's performance was a stand up set by Frank Skinner and it was great.  I can't think of any particular joke or anecdote that stood out, but he has been performing live for over thirty five years and he showed a consummate ability to feed off the audience and ad lib at the drop of a hat.

We had a brilliant evening, filled with laugh out loud moments.  Some might say that his narrative might lack sophistication or structure. I just say he was bloody funny!

Of course I want typhoid!

 Now that might seem like an odd title for today's Journal entry, but all will become apparent.

30% had arranged a for us to attend a joint appointment at our local surgery for our travel inoculations. Nursey Sue went through our vaccination records and advised that 30% needed a tetanus jab and that I was up to date with all of the vaccines recommended for Egypt.

She then went on to point out that there were a few optional jabs including Hepatitis B, rabies and typhoid. Now Hep B is transmitted by exposure to bodily fluids and neither of us were planning to have a tattoo, inject intravenous drugs or come in to contact with another man's semen, so not much chance of us getting that. As for rabies, just don't stroke any cats or dogs, particularly the ones that look a bit mangy and are frothing at the mouth. 

Now we come to typhoid, it is spread through contaminated food or water. Funnily enough we both plan on eating and drinking while we are away in Egypt. We are both aware of the risks of typhoid and know that we should only drink bottled water, peel fruit, avoid street food etc. However, there is always a risk that you are going to eat something a bit iffy* and I really don't fancy going down with typhoid.  I know I could do with loosing a bit of weight, but I really don't fancy the typhoid method.

So when Nursey Sue asked me "do you want typhoid", you know what I replied.

---

* I was going to make an off colour joke about waiters with shit under their fingernails, but I do have standards.

Garden Tidying

 The tomato crop has dwindled over the past few weeks and this morning I headed out to the greenhouse to pick the last of them.

After about twenty minutes I had gathered over a kilo of cherry tomatoes. Many of these had split, but that wasn't a problem as the rest of the morning was spent converting these to a batch of tomato soup. We had some with our lunch and the remainder was bagged and frozen for consumption at a later date.

Having picked the tomato plants relatively clean, I returned to the greenhouse in the afternoon and removed the withering vines. I then spent a happy hour on my hands and knees weeding and picking up any dropped fruit. 

As I weeded I saw movement in my peripheral vision and I focussed on this little fellow lurking in the corner of the greenhouse.

Who are you calling common?*

It is lovely to see wildlife in the garden, especially amphibians. We regularly see toads and have also seen the occasional frog and newt.  Their presence is quite surprising as the nearest ponds are at least 150 yards away from the house.

After finishing in the greenhouse I continued tidying in the veg patch. The pea netting was removed** and I took out the last of the runner bean plants. 30% was busy too, cutting back the perennials in the bed in the back garden.

By the end of the day 30% and I had managed to completely fill our two brown wheelie bins (garden waste). 

That's just about it for Wednesday apart from me finally submitting my tax return. I now wait for a rather nice rebate in the near future.

---

* European or Common Toad (Bufo bufo)

** The pea crop didn't do well. I don't know whether it was because they were planted late or some other reason? I don't think I will grow them again as they take up a lot of space for a fairly small crop and, I'm afraid to say, frozen peas are really good.

Autumn Leaves

There is a very large Ash tree standing by the gate to the lane. It is quite the magnificent specimen and I would estimate that it is easily 130 years old.*

It is now the time of year when it drops its leaves and the drive is covered with them. Normally I would leave them until the last of the leaves have fallen before I collect them up, but the weather is dry and I would much rather sweep up dry leaves than soggy, wet ones. 

So, a couple of hours were spent sweeping up the leaves. These were then deposited in a couple of mesh lined crates up in the orchard. I prepared these back in June with the aim of producing leaf mould for use in the garden. I guess I will now need to wait a year or two to see how this experiment turns out.

The realist in me was also resigned to the fact that the drive would be covered in leaves again tomorrow.

In other news; I tweaked my tax return at the suggestion of my FA and I also dug up the last of my second crop potatoes. The tops on them have died off in the past week and I wanted to get them out of the ground before it gets too wet. The variety was Maris Peer and the crop was reasonable. The earth was washed off prior to them being stored in a cool dark place. However, I am fairly certain they will get eaten before there is any risk of them going green or rotting.

---

* I knew that degree in Biological Sciences would come in useful. One nugget I recall is that you can estimate the approximate age of a tree by measuring its girth at chest height; 1" of girth equates to one year of age.

Busy doing nothing

Today was one of those days when I seemed to be occupied for most of the day, but, in retrospect, I didn't seem to have achieved much.

The roofers arrived early this morning.  The chimney at the rear of the cottage has been redundant, since we removed the old Stanley oil fired range* back in 2021 and today was the day for its flue to be removed. 

I am pretty sure that I have mentioned that we have had a number of leaks associated with this chimney and, after three or four attempts to prevent them, we decided to just have the damned thing removed. Our roofer said it was for the best. Apparently chimneys are notorious for leaks and if you don't need them, you are better to have them removed.

Anyway, back to the narrative ... The roofers arrived nice and early and blocked the drive with their flat bed wagon. This was no problem and it simply meant that I had an early morning walk down to the local surgery to pick up a prescription.

Once home I returned to my lamp project and finally assembled the components and plugged it in.

Of course it's been wired
by a qualified electrician

---

* I'm not a fan of Range Cookers, but was amazed at how many people expected us to install an Aga or Rayburn in place of the festering Stanley Range that lurked in the corner of the kitchen grumbling and burping out the occasional waft of heating oil. Allegedly it provided hot water, central heating and cooking facilities. In practice it seemed to do none of these particularly well. This was evidenced by the fact that the previous owners of the cottage had an electric cooker sat alongside it and the cooker had seen a lot of use.

Basically Range Cookers are pretty much obsolete, they belong to a long gone age when women were at home all day and slow cooked brown, tasteless food on these inefficient monsters. Tastes have changes and I mean in both fashion and palate. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good slow cooked stew as much as the next man, but I'll cook it in a 100 watt slow cooker rather than a Range that is burning several litres of fuel oil an hour.

We've got more sense that to spend thousands of pounds on an Aga and then moan about the running costs ... I've met people who have. And our kitchen isn't big enough to have a Range for show and then a proper modern hob and ovens to actually cook on and in.

I've just realised that this is an incredibly long footnote, but "Hey, there you go". 

In summary; we had the manky Stanley Range ripped out in the Spring of 2021, and replaced it with a modern, efficient Worcester Bosch oil fired Combi Boiler, an electric induction hob and an oven. Our house is now warm, we have hot water on demand, we can cook anything we fancy and our oil usage has plummeted.

10cc ?

Or, perhaps more accurately, today's entry should be entitled 2.5cc.

This evening 30% and I headed over to the Warwick Arts Centre to see a performance by 10cc. Anyone of a certain age is likely to recall the Stewart, Goldman, Godley and Creme lineup. However we were well aware that Godley & Creme quit the band years ago, so we had performed a pre-event Google to find out exactly who we were going to see.

The current touring lineup still includes Graham Gouldman plus a supporting cast, several of whom have been touring with the group since the 1970s.

I must admit to being dubious about a rock show where the most of the band were in their 70's and Gouldman is a couple of years off his eightieth birthday. I should not have been such a cynic. The show was absolutely brilliant, delivering the distinctive sound and arrangements that were true to the original releases. We both absolutely loved the show and there were no disappointments with the set list. It included many of their singles including I'm not in love, Wall Street Shuffle, Dreadlock Holiday and an a cappella version of Donna was featured as an encore.

At this point I will give a brief mention to the support act, a solo guitarist going by the name of Seb Wesson. He was fucking awful. He could play well enough, but he made us endure twenty five minutes of self-penned monotony that made the listener want to slit their wrists. It was truly dreadful and I am struggling to understand why he was picked for the tour ... he must have been cheap.  In summary; I've heard better buskers.

In other news, I had a fairly easy day. The morning was spent pottering in the garden where I mowed the verges that border the cottage, took a short walk with the dogs and cleaned the stagnant mess that had accumulated in bottom of one of the garden water butts over the Summer. It was during this task that I think I may have discovered the entrance to Hades.

Obviously cleaning out the stagnant mess involved dumping several buckets of water and sludge. I decided to empty them at the base of one of the boundary hedges and as I poured water from the first bucket I noticed a slit in the ground leading to an obvious void. The slit was about eighteen inches long by about five inches wide and it was very easy to pour the water in to it.  The noise the water made as it entered the void made it clear that the space under ground was large.

My deductive powers reasoned that I had clearly found an entrance to the underworld and I looked diligently for either Cerberus or Orcs and Goblins. I found none of these creatures, but today is Sunday and it might have been their day off. 

Alternatively I may have just located the mythical overflow pipe that runs from our septic tank across the pasture next door.

Another tube of eye drops

This morning we headed in to Alcester to visit the opticians. 30% needed to pick up her new spectacles and I needed a short consultation with the Optician.

For the past three weeks I have been treating my eyes daily with steroid eye drops.  The Specialist who prescribed them had made clear that I needed to be referred to a Cornea clinic if the condition had not significantly improved. My eyes are still not great hence today's consultation.

The Optician agreed to make the referral and we both left as satisfied customers. 30% was particularly satisfied as she negotiated a very good deal on a new pair of prescription sunglasses. All I got was some greasy gunk to smear on my eyelids before I go to bed each night.

We then popped in to see Dot 'n Dave and spent a lovely hour catching up on their news before heading home.

My afternoon was focussed on projects and the garden. My lamp base was given another coat of Danish oil and I then exhausted myself by dragging the beast from the shed and spending a taxing ninety minutes mowing the rough grass in the orchard.

If it's not getting stuck in one of the many ruts and dips, it gets lodged on windfall cooking apples. It is a real struggle but well worth it. In my mind's eye I can still see the overgrown and cluttered mess that the orchard was. It is still far from perfect, but it is so much better.

What hell is this?

Having audited and conditioned my shoe collection earlier in the week, this morning found me headed over to our nearest IKEA store in Wednesbury.

IKEA stock some rather good shoe racks. They are quite utilitarian, but perfect for my four pairs of shoes and some other footwear that we really don't need to count or discuss here.* 

After struggling with their less than user friendly web portal, I eventually managed to get the racks ordered and paid for. And this morning found me trundling up the M5 to Wednesbury to collect them.

I found the store and encountered signposting that was, shall we say, somewhat erratic! I eventually located the click 'n collect car park having performed a circuit of the store grounds. It appears that one either needs to be telepathic or be one of those maze solving rats to find the direct route to the goods collection point.

I really should have thought about this. Anyone who has visited an IKEA store is familiar with it's maze like layout and the fact that, once you enter the store, you have committed yourself to a soul destroying traipse around this plasticky retail labyrinth.** 

Apparently they have developed this retail concept further and now apply it to the layout of their carparks too.

Anyway, back to the narrative, the click 'n collect process worked well and a nice chap was soon placing the racks in the back of the Defender. That was when I made a bad decision ... 30% suggested that I pop in to the store and have a look at the houseplants and perhaps see if they have a nice Edison squirrel cage type light bulb for my lap project. I did this and instantly regretted my decision. 

I wasn't in there that long, but it was just so grim; a maze of identical, cheaply produced stuff that you buy to make your house look exactly like your neighbours.  Don't get me wrong; IKEA does have the occasional nugget. A little household gem that you really do need, but on the whole their product lines are unexceptional.

It really is the death of individuality.

Right! Rant over, in other news after a morning of retail hell, I managed to get the lawns at the front of the house mowed in the early afternoon and made some progress on my lamp project. The wooden base has now been sanded smooth and the first coat of Danish oil has been applied.

---

* I forgot to mention my scabby gardening boots in Wednesday's Journal entry. Mind you, boots are definitely not shoes.

** I swear we bumped in to Theseus the last time we visited and I'm sure some of the customers had a touch of the minotaur in their genetics too.

Sorting out the drainage in the lower field*

A while back I'm fairly certain that I mentioned that we had arranged for a drainage contractor to come in and improve the very basic ditch that attempts to cope with the rain that runs off the large arable field upslope of the cottage.

Well, after several delays, he finally turned up about a fortnight ago, advised that the ground was now far too wet and that his excavator would totally trash the garden. Basically we would have to suck it up until the garden dried out a bit, or we had a very heavy frost.

It is fair to say that we were somewhat annoyed pissed off by the situation a) because the delays were caused by the contractor, not us and b) because we made crystal fucking clear just how wet the garden became once the Autumn rains arrived.

As I thought more about the work he proposed to do, I became less convinced by his drainage solution, so we called in another local company to have a look, let us know their proposals and give us a price. This morning the company representative arrived and I talked him through the draining and damp issues we were experiencing and felt much more comfortable with his proposal.

For example, I asked about when they would be able to perform the work as the ground could get very wet and could end up looking like The Somme. I was reassured that they will use mini diggers and ground mats to prevent that very problem. He also confirmed that his equipment will be able to access the orchard via the gate rather than having to smash its way through the hedge.

We're waiting to see what their quote looks like, but am almost certain that Contractor A will be told we no longer require his services.

In other news, Hobson and Whiffler spent their day at the dog groomers and arrived home looking absolutely splendid.  The recent spell of mild, rain free weather has dried out the grass and I was able to spend a merry hour mowing the lawns at the rear of the cottage. I also managed to make a start on a little project in the workshop.**.  30% has got us booked in at the local surgery for our travel vaccinations and our neighbour's son has agreed to look after the chickens while we are in Egypt ... it's all coming together!

---

* "Oh, if you could Ted ... yes, thank you.  Do you like Tina Turner, Ted?"

** A rather fine piece of rustic elm is being transformed in to a lamp

The answer is four pairs

 The day started with me continuing the archeological excavation of the bottom of the wardrobe.

I did not find the secret door to Narnia, but I did find footwear that I'd forgotten I owned,* and that hadn't been worn in many, many years.

They were all dusted down and the rest of the day was spent giving them a coat of polish, or the appropriate treatments for suede and waxed leather.

At the end I took stock and accurately reported to 30% that I only have four pairs of shoes.  She witnessed the array of footwear spread across the bedroom floor and spluttered something along the lines of "this is verging on ridiculous, you are not buying anymore bloody shoes"! 

I suppose the twelve pairs of boots, two pairs of sandals and the new pair of Josef Siebel mules might be what pushed her to this irrational response.

It's probably a good job I didn't point out the two pairs of Wellingtons and the Sidi motorcycle boots that hadn't been included in this audit of my footwear collection.

---

* The suede desert boots, the sandals and the loafers will be useful for the upcoming Aswan trip.

How many pairs?

 I decided that I deserved another lazy day, so don't be expecting anything at all from today's entry.

Basically it was a masterclass in unproductive pottering. I managed to effectively fill an entire day with virtually nothing to show for it all. That, I suppose, is an achievement in itself.

It has been a few weeks since I last walked the Three Miler with Bobbyn and, today, we finally got our collective acts together and managed to walk the dogs. B has taken this week off work, so we walked in the late morning and then lunched together. 

After B's departure 30% and I decided that a snooze was in order and a sizeable chunk of the early afternoon was consumed by that activity.

I then decided that doing nothing is quite challenging and looked for a something productive to do. I had recently cleaned my walking boots and today's walk down the filthy lanes had left them looking like they hadn't been cleaned in weeks. I therefore decided that I would dig out all of my shoes and give them a polish.

Unfortunately I had forgotten how many pairs of shoes and boots I own.* This is going to take a day or two to complete.

---

* I love buying shoes. I am a shoe addict. 30% and I think it is possibly because they offer instant gratification. Let me explain; I have an odd body shape and trousers always need to be shortened and I prefer to buy custom shirts that have a shorter sleeve length, rather than off the peg items. The result is that  there is always a delay between buying trousers or shirts and actually being able to wear them. Shoes, however, are a different matter all together. I buy them and can wear them straight away ... basically instant retail gratification.

Sods Law

You really could not make this up!

After weeks of hard work on the hedges, we looked out this morning and saw a tractor pull up at the gate to the neighbouring pasture. Within minutes it was trundling around the field boundaries beating the overgrown hedges into submission with a flail cutter.

As is says in title of today's entry; "Sods Law!"

Now I appreciate that we would still have had a huge amount of work to do, but if the hedge cutting contractor had turned up at the beginning of the month he would have taken the top out of about 75 yards of hedging that borders our gardens ... That is not an insignificant amount.

Ho hum, I'll take an optimistic perspective on this and note that the hedging contractor has removed the few, but irritating out-of-reach stems that I had not been able to cut. The job is finally finished.

In other news; Dog #4 aka The Rat was taken for a follow-up appointment at the Vet's. She is fine and can return to being her normal self.* Interestingly the vet suggested that a dose of paracetamol** could be administered if her back injury flares up again.

As for me, I did very little for the rest of the day. The past few weeks have been quite intensive and we both felt that we deserved a rest.

30% took this to extremes by booking a holiday and I can report that we will be spending a week in Aswan later on in November. I cannot wait.

---

* That being, spending all day snoozing on a bed and then leaping around like a pig on springs when there seems to be a chance of a walk.

** One half of a 500mg tablet for a dog her size. 

Finished!

We've finally finished cutting the hedges. Well, for this year anyway!

No home should be without one

For the past two days I have been mostly stood at the business end of this little monster, feeding it the huge amount of brash that we had accumulated in the orchard and garden. 

brash, in British English, noun.  loose rubbish, such as broken rock, hedge clippings, etc; debris 

30% and I finally finished early on Sunday afternoon and the pumpkin patch is now home to an enormous pile of shredded wood, leaves and stems.

We started work on the hedges at the beginning of the month and have been hard at every day, except when it was pissing down with rain, or a family funeral needed to be attended. I've already mentioned that the hedges hadn't been cut for at least two years and needed at leat 6' of material taking off the top of them. 

We have dealt with branches up to 4" in diameter and covered with evil spines that are 2" long. As for the brambles, don't mention the brambles! They were twisting, branching stems up to 20' long with thorns that snag and grab at everything; your arms, your legs. They do their best to hinder every attempt to cut them, gather them and feed them in to the shredder. It almost became a vendetta to deal with the bloody things!

Our hands and legs are scratched and, despite gloves, splinter removal became a nightly occupation, but we have finally finished. 250 yards of agricultural hedging has been tamed and shredded.

This evening we celebrated this massive achievement with a Chinese takeaway. as neither of us had the energy to cook.

It's been a busy couple of days ...

and I don't expect the weekend to be any quieter.

Let me explain. Having finished the hedge cutting, I spent Thursday morning tidying up my workshop. It had become a dumping ground for hedge cutters, chargers and fuel cans and these were put away.

I then headed over to Bromsgrove to pick up poultry food and wood shavings from the agricultural supplies store  and then on to the Industrial Estate, where I collected a couple of oil filled heaters. 

One of the bedrooms in the cottage has a fitted wardrobe that can become a little damp during the Winter months. We hatched a plan to install a couple of low wattage, oil filled heaters to see whether that helped alleviate the issue.

It will be no surprise that the afternoon was spent installing the two heaters.

Moving on to Friday, I headed in to Redditch straight after breakfast and picked up a few electrical supplies from the DIY store. On my return I headed back to the bedroom and spent a couple of hours sorting out the electrical supply for the two heaters ... let's hope they work.

In the early afternoon the local hire company's delivery driver arrived with the shredder. We have hired it for the weekend and hope to deal with the huge piles of hedge cuttings* that currently decorate the property.  The driver gave me a comprehensive walk through of the machine. It is a tracked, self propelled machine capable of, allegedly, dealing with branched up to 3" in diameter. If it is as good as it is described, it will be perfect for the material we need to shred and the fact that it will need to be manoeuvred up in to the orchard.

30% and I then spent the next couple of hours working through the first pile of cuttings and familiarising ourselves with the shredder. It seems to work well and, at the end of our first session, we filled a builder's bulk bag. Allegedly this is close to a cubic metre of mulched material for use in the garden next year.

As the light started to fade we headed indoors and got ourselves clean and tidy. We had arranged to meet up with a few members of the coven for a Thai buffet at one of the local pubs ... I really wish that we hadn't bothered. The food was average at best, not particularly warm and the group at the next table were so loud that we couldn't hear each other speak.

A group decision was made not to linger at the pub, so we were home before nine o'clock and asleep not long after that. As I said in the first line of today's entry "I don't expect the weekend to be any quieter".

---

* I was going to use the word "trimmings" here, but that doesn't describe 6' to 8' long branches that are easily wrist sized at the thick end and covered in evil thorns!

I'm not planning anything beyond Thursday

I opened my underwear drawer this morning and there were only two pairs of underpants remaining. Normally this drawer is crammed with them, so I am taking this as an ominous portent. Clearly I will not be needing pants* after tomorrow, hence the title of today's Journal entry.

This morning started with a trip in to Alcester to drop off a jar of honey and a pack of home cured bacon for Nelson at the bakery. I received a freshly baked sausage roll in exchange and walked away thinking that he had got the better part of that deal. 

On the way home I filled up a can of petrol at the local petrol station, as this was needed to fuel the long-reach hedge cutter.

Back at home, I mixed up a litre of 40:1 two stroke mix fuel and refilled the hedge cutter. The rest of the day was spent up in the orchard, where I finally finished the last length of hedge.

There may be a couple of hard-to-reach twigs that still need lopping, but we can now see out in all directions.

As I have now finished this monumental task I wonder if I am now surplus to requirements ... hence the empty underwear drawer.

---

* or anything else that is essential to life, such as air, water, comestibles, a well organised workshop and so on ...

The end is in sight

 It was another day of hedge cutting, but, as it says in the title of today's Journal entry, "the end is in sight". 

The final length of hedge is up in the orchard, bordering the upslope, arable field and is about thirty five yards long. It is mostly hawthorn with the occasional elder, holly and ash tree and, like all of the other boundary hedges, hasn't been cut for a couple of years.

It needed a good five or six feet taken out of the top of it and, using a short ladder, loppers and the long reach hedge cutter, I have completed about two thirds of it and I plan to finish it tomorrow.

Obviously our pile of brash grow bigger daily and 30% has arranged the hire of a wood chipper for the upcoming weekend to deal with it.  So no prizes for guessing what Saturday and Sunday's entries will be about.

The only other thing to report is that we spent the evening meeting a lady who boards dogs.  We both quite fancy a few days of Winter sun and, obviously, the dogs will need to be looked after while we are away.* The meeting went well and Whiffler, Hobson and The Rat all got on well with her dogs. 

All we need to do now is fill out her forms and find out when she has availability for them.

---

* The chickens will too, but that is relatively easy. I am fairly sure that the son of one of our neighbours will do that for a few quid.

Quote for the day

"I think I have had near fatal vegetable poisoning. That's my third visit to intensive care this morning!"

First thing this morning Dog#4 was taken in to the Vets. She developed severe stress symptoms yesterday evening and was not a happy girl. The vets think that she has hurt her back and we came home with enough sedatives and painkillers to calm an enraged Kodiak bear. 

This is an ongoing problem with The Rat, as these symptoms tend to flare up every couple of months. Normally they subside within a few hours, but this is one of the worst occasions. Fortunately she is now resting relatively peacefully* on one of the beds.

I spent the rest of the day hedge cutting and can report that the best view on the house has now been restored. This involved trespassing in to the neighbouring fields with my long reach hedge cutter, and taking out the growth that could not be reached from our property.

I've included a snap. It's not a great picture, but it shows the simple but lovely view.

Clean windows would have improved it!

---

* Or, more likely, is off her tits on doggy painkillers and is dreaming of God knows what!

Nothing, nada, zilch

 There is nothing to see here.

After a hectic and emotionally draining week I did very little today. Vegetables were dug from the garden for dinner and I assisted 30% by rolling and timing a stuffed breast of lamb joint.

I made a minor modification to a little stand that supports one of the poultry drinkers and that is just about it.

Back on the hedges tomorrow ... sad face emoji!

I know I've lapsed again ...

but I've had one hell of a week!

For Christ's Sake, I've cremated my father, attended his younger sister's funeral and wake, been to two gigs and lost a dear friend. I think it's fair to say that we have had a fair amount of shit to deal with over the past few days.

I'll now attempt to fill in a few gaps and get back on track.

Wednesday, 16th October, 2024

I know that I've already covered Wednesday's events but I also managed to complete the first draft of my tax return.  For some reason I procrastinate for months and then, when I finally get my act together, it is far more straightforward than I expect it to be. The draft has been now forwarded to our "chap"* for his approval before I submit it to my former employer HM Revenue & Customs.**

We also and an "intimate evening with Martin Fry" at the Palace Theatre Redditch. For those of you who are unfamiliar with 1980's pop, Martin was the lead singer with ABC and he was touring to promote a recently written autobiography. The evening was a mix of conversation and acoustic versions of some of his hits. It was interesting to find out more about the man and band and his voice is still good. The only observation I would make is that ABC's music was known for it's huge orchestral arrangements and Trevor Horn's production. Acoustic versions are always going to sound a little lacking.

I bought ABC's Lexicon of Love when it was first released back in the 1980s. I still have the vinyl LP and a CD version too. The songs have been part of my life's soundscape for the past forty years and several of them are present on my current MP4 playlists.

---

* Our chap is our Financial Advisor. In the final stages of my employment with the Neat & Tidy Piano Movers I discovered that my employer would part-finance the engagement of a Financial Advisor. A very good friend recommended a firm that they had used for many years and we made the call. That was back in April 2023 and we have been amazed at the services they have provided. One of the best days of my life was when we had a consultation after their initial analysis of our finances and expenditure. They simply advised "You don't need to work any more, Badman"

** I was employed by the Inland Revenue SFO from October 1987 through until December 1998. SFO sounds exciting; Serious Fraud Office? Nope, it was the Superannuation Funds Office back in 1987. It was forced to change its name to the Pension Schemes Office so that the Serious Fraud Office could use the acronym ... true story!

Thursday, 17th October, 2024

The plan for today was to take it easy,

I managed to stick with that for about an hour and then headed out to the garden to attack the hedge that borders the arable field upslope of the cottage. The local farmer's hedging contractor had failed to cut the hedges bordering the property and the best view from the house* is becoming obscured by 14' of hawthorn. The farmer indicated that he would get the contractor to return and finish the job, but I doubt the hedge will be cut until Autumn, next year.

I therefore assembled tools and ladders and started to hack a good six or seven feet off the top of the hedge. I still have plenty more to do, but was pleased with the improvement.

The reason for attempting to have a lazy day was that we were out at Warwick Arts Centre this evening. Rhod Gilbert was performing his Rhod Gilbert & the Giant Grapefruit tour and we were joined by Bubbles and Bobbyn.

Rhod's set was based on his recent experiences with head and neck cancer and it was brilliant. It was both hysterical and touching and delivered at an almost manic pace. We loved it and it was definitely needed after the stresses of Tuesday and Wednesday.

---

* The best view from the house: This is debatable, but a prime contender is the view when sat on the lavatory in the bathroom.  The view is over an arable field that is uphill of the cottage. The local geography is such that the horizon is only about 150 yards distant. The view is therefore very simple, but very effective. The foreground is a single field that varies from rich brown earth in the late Autumn, fresh green shoots in the Spring and then, as Summer comes, the strident yellow of oil seed rape or, slightly later, wheat and barley turning a dusty gold before harvest. The skyline is punctuated by the silhouettes of a few overgrown hawthorns and all of this is surmounted by the ever-changing sky. The view is eastward, so each morning it is lit by the rising sun and the rising moon greets us in the evening.

Friday, 18th October, 2024

Today was the funeral of my aunt. I'm not one for football analogies, but it felt like a friendly match after the intensity of Tuesday.

Polite conversations were enjoyed at the wake and we used the dogs as an excuse to make our way home midway through the afternoon.

As I reflect on the past week I do wonder if I will encounter any of my family again. This is not as sad as it seems. Over the years we have drifted away and formed new bonds and friendship groups. I have my own family and no problems filling my time. I don't think I miss them. In fact, the thought of being with them quite unsettles me. I wonder if it because they seem to think they have the right to openly judge?

On the subject of new bonds and friendships, we spent the evening with B&H. One might think that a quiet night in might be prescribed after this week, but it was exactly what the doctor ordered. H had cooked a simple, but splendid dinner and we enjoyed laughs and wine with caring and unpretentious company. They are treasured friends.

Saturday, 19th October, 2024

A couple of weeks ago 30% informed me that I was to attend a baking course at the Butter Street Bakery in Alcester.

Basically it was originally a gift for TP,* but his work schedule had not allowed him to attend, so I was his substitute. In all honesty, I didn't really want to go and felt almost coerced to attend. However it was a fun day and Nelson was a charming and lively instructor.

Some of the baking was done in pairs and other items were made individually. I came away having baked a small white loaf, a brioche loaf, a focaccia, a couple of croissants, four pain au chocolat and a couple of cruffins. 

The Defender smelt divine on the journey home.

30% had made chilli con carne for dinner and the olive and sage focaccia was the perfect accompliment.

The other big new for today was that 30% had managed to sell the nine young chickens. We are now a hundred quid better off and only have the birds up in the orchard coop to care for. 

I plan to do nothing tomorrow, apart from letting the chickens out and feeding them!

---

* TP is my son; The Progeny and 30% is my wife and better half. I'm not sure why she has become 30%, but, as I have grown to know her over the years, one explanation could be that it is the amount of any task that remains unfinished. She is not a completer/finisher!

A thought on yesterday's funeral

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

A sad day.

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

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

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

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

Catching Up

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

Saturday, 12th October, 2024

This was the third early start that week. 

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

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

Sunday, 13th October, 2024

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

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

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

Monday, 14th October, 2024

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

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

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

---

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

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

Tuesday, 15th October, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

That looks a lot better

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Another early start

 Today featured another early start.

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

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

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

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

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

There you go, that was Thursday.

---

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

What time is it?

 That was my first utterance this morning.

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

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

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

Anyway, flowers sorted ... CHECK ✅. 

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

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

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

---

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

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

Rain stopped play ... eventually

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

Guess what I've been up to?

 Yep, no surprises here!

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

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

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

Second Crop Potatoes. var: Charlotte

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

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

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

On a mission

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, 3rd October. 2024

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Friday, 4th October, 2024

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

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

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

---

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

Saturday, 5th October, 2024

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

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

Sunday, 6tth October, 2024

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

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

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

A mildly frustrating morning

 This morning I had a plan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

** minus the parcel

Goblin Fruit #2

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

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

Just out of the ground

Washed and scrubbed

Trimmed, but not yet peeled

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

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

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