Gossip

It was a quiet day today. 

TP's chum; Charlie paid a visit this morning to come and ogle* my new bike. He's a lovely chap and we spent a good chunk of the morning chatting, drinking coffee and loitering in the garage.

In the afternoon I did nothing more productive than cut up an old pair of pyjamas ... I have a couple of bikes to clean and am short of polishing rags. 

Late in the afternoon TP turned up as he has some location work in Birmingham tomorrow. We are a convenient base for that job, and he'll stay for a few days ... hopefully making progress on his sound cart project.**

And now on to the title of today's Journal entry; Gossip.

A couple of days ago I was walking the dogs and bumped in to an acquaintance. As we passed the time of day, she happened to mention that someone in the village had commented about the tree that had blown over in our garden during Storm Darragh. According to this anonymous village pundit, the tree had fallen on the house and damaged the end gable.

The acquaintance questioned the veracity of this gossip and I confirmed that the tree had fallen away from the house and done little more that create a crater in the lawn, crush a hedge and provide a lot of work for me in sawing it up. The house had not been touched by the tree.

As dissected this item of gossip I pointed out that the house and the tree stump were clearly visible from the lane and, consequently, any idiot could see that the house was unharmed. I was amazed that a nugget of information could be perverted in to complete nonsense, when a simple walk past the house could provide the true picture. 

This reinforced my view of those that peddle gossip. They are stupid people that spout unfounded nonsense as fact, generally because they like to revel in the misfortune of others. If one thinks about it, this gossip has ruined their credibility, by talking such nonsense.

I don't mind being talked about behind my back, so long as the gossip is accurate. Generally I find it isn't.

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* his term, not mine

** TP has yet to learn that out of sight is out of mind and that he will really need to make a conscious effort to come over and complete the work on this trolley. He lives and works in Cardiff and it is very easy to forget about a pile of quite expensive components when you don't see them. He needs to make this project a priority, identify the time to do the work and get his arse down here to complete it.

Glass half full?

 Optimist or pessimist? Now there's a question.

I'd like to think that I am generally optimistic, although 30% might offer a different opinion.  

I know that there are occasions when events will weigh heavily on my mind, and then I am pleasantly surprised when they don't turn out as badly as expected ... I guess I can be prone to a touch of pessimism from time to time.

On the whole I like to think that I am a realist, drawing on lifetime experience to predict how events are likely to unfold, without undue cynicism.

Now, where am I going with this? 

It is the time of year when my bees need to be treated for varroa, a parasitic mite that can devastate a colony. This morning I gathered up the necessary equipment and headed up in to the orchard. Within a few minutes I had prepared the hive* for the treatment. I removed the hive entrance and noticed a few dead bees on the hive floor. What I didn't notice was any noise or guard bees coming to investigate my assault on their home. I investigated further and was incredibly disappointed to note that the colony had failed.

At this time of year the most likely cause of colony failure is starvation, but the hive had plenty of capped stores and there was a pack of candy available to them if they were running short. The candy had been refreshed when I last checked the hives in mid December, and the colony had appeared to be doing well at that time.

I could see nothing that might give a clue to their demise, as I dismantled the hive . One possibility might be that the queen had failed at some point in the Autumn. I know that I never actually saw her during my inspections, but the hive was showing signs that she was present and laying. It could be that she may have failed and the colony has collapsed. There were no signs of brood disease, so a poor quality queen, leading to a colony that hasn't thrived, is my best guess.

Somewhat dismayed, I moved on to my second hive and repeated my preparations. This time I was welcomed by a handful of bees as I removed the entrance block. This was a huge relief. The second colony was alive.  I completed the oxalic acid vapour treatment and started to tidy up my equipment and stow the hive components from the failed colony. 

It is fair to say that this was not the outcome I would have hope for. I was hoping to see two vigorous colonies all ready for the arrival of the Spring flowers. However, I do recognise that both could have collapsed and died. 

It is good beekeeping practice to have at least two colonies. The reason for this approach is that, if one dies over Winter, you will hopefully have one that will survive. As the surviving colony starts to grow in the Spring queen cells are likely to appear. One should then be able to create another colony using the shook swarm method. 

So the optimist in me had hoped to see two colonies doing well, the pessimist in me acknowledged that both could have succumbed to the ravages of Winter. 

As for the realist, there are a few months of poor weather yet to come ... we are not out of the woods yet.

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* A hive is a container that houses a colony of bees. Colony is the collective term for the bees themselves, comprising the queen, her workers, brood and drones.

Tidying up

After finally getting the logs stacked yesterday, I felt that I deserved an easier day today.

I did pick up the few large chunks of trunk from the front garden that were too knotty to split. These were put under cover up in Rose Cottage.*

I also swept up the debris from the floor of the carport and wheeled the trailer under cover, and that is about the sum total of today's achievements.

I still have the stump and root ball to remove from the front lawn, but that can wait until the weather is better. I am, however, quite pleased that the lion's share of the fallen tree has now been processed and tidied away.

Allegedly the National Grid Contractors will be here at the beginning of next week to remove a conifer from under our electricity supply cable.** I'm glad I've finished with the first tree before I have to start on the next one ... Rinse and repeat, I think!

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* The log shed up in the orchard

** They were originally scheduled to do the work at the beginning of  December, but repairing Storm Darragh damage took priority over that appointment.  It's scheduled to be very windy over the next few days. I hope they don't get diverted to storm damage repair again.

Prehistoric Jenga

A couple of days ago my journal entry pondered whether the large pile of logs in the carport could be neatly stacked. This would restore the floor space liberated by the recent sale of the Series 2 Land Rover.

Well, after a few hours work, I can report that the logs are now stacked and the carport is once again uncluttered.

They'll need 18 months drying time

I am now wondering how long it will be before some bugger attempt to fill the space with something else?

The construction of this fabulous stack took up a good chunk of the day, although we did have an intermission ... a visit from Bubbles and Bobbyn. We spent a couple of hours catching up on their news and Bubbles came and had a look at my new bike. I actually think he spent more time looking at my R nineT, as he is seriously considering buying it ... as soon as he passes his Mod 2 test.

As for the title of today's Journal entry, it quite accurately describes my wood pile. It has been carefully stacked as high as possible and god help anyone who pulls a log from the pile and causes its collapse!

Let's do lunch

 Today's main event was "lunch". Lunch with a couple of friends from my days working in the IT industry.

I keep in touch with VERY few of my ex colleagues, but Grandad Jack and Judge Dread are two exceptions. I worked with them both during my years at IBM and, for some strange reason, we clicked. We all come from very different backgrounds, but share a similar sense of humour and are all in our seventh or eight decade.* We all have an interest in the world about us and when we spend time together our conversations range from geopolitics to taking the piss out of each other.**

In a good year we may meet up a couple of times. In a bad year we may not get together at all, and last year was a bad one ... particularly for Grandad Jack. He has been undergoing treatment for a tumour in his neck and as he puts it himself he "isn't out of the woods yet".

He is now over the worst of his treatment, so we arranged to meet up for lunch at the Oak at Upton Snodsbury ... our preferred venue.***

We had a lovely few hours in the pub and gentle leg pulling took place. A couple of gins were drunk**** as we caught up with each others' news. Strangely our conversations rarely touch on our working lives, although the tale of my journey into retirement was covered.

I really enjoy their company and hope that there will be many more sessions like this. Jack has his next scan in February and we all hope that the magic word remission is heard at the consultation that will follow.

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* Jack is now 75, John (Dread) is 66 and I am a youthful 61.

** There is a lot of the latter!

*** Jack lives over in Knowle, so it is a forty minute drive. John lives down in Portsmouth, so it's bloody miles for him. I'm laughing, it's only five miles down the road and Jack generally picks me up on the way.

**** By me. Jack was on the alcohol free Guiness and John was drinking lime and soda .... AND he calls himself a Northerner ... he's spent far too much time down South.

I hope they will fit

 For the past five weeks I have been looking out on to a large pile of split logs. These have sat in the far corner of the front lawn since I dealt with the aftermath of Storm Darragh.

The recent departure of the Series 2 Land Rover has made ample space in the car port, and I spent today moving the logs under cover.

The garden now looks slightly tidier and the carport is once again filled.* At least the logs will start to dry out and I will be sheltered from the weather as I start to stack them tidily against the wall. 

Basically I have piled a large tree in the carport and I am wondering how much space it will need when it is stacked ... I hope it will fit. 

I have also realised that stacking the logs will be the fourth time I have handled the damned things; felling, splitting, transferring to the dry store and stacking. It's no wonder they cost two hundred quid a tonne.

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* I am starting to wonder whether there is some universal law that means that any clear space will soon become filled ... it is an aspect of entropy, perhaps?

That took while to finish off

Surprisingly I did not spend the day faffing around with the new bike. I did connect her up to an Optimate battery charger and throw a cover over her, but that was it.

I did however attend to a little job that has been ignored for a couple of years. 

Shortly after moving here TP's chum Charlie asked if I wanted a "parts bin rack." Basically this is a large sheet of metal with regularly spaced, louvered perforations. These louvres allow plastic component bins to be slotted on to it for the storage of whatever you like ... usually small components such as fixings etc.

I accepted the offer and Charlie kindly delivered the rack. It was then shoved in the back of the car port and subsequently blocked in by the Series 2. It has sat there for at least two years, probably longer.

The recent removal of the Land Rover meant that I was finally able to get at it and I spent a merry couple of hours fixing it to the wall in the garage. I had even ordered a set of parts bins, so these were slotted in place. It really does look rather professional. All I need to do now is find something to put in it.

In other news, Jason and the lads turned up this morning to grout the paving slabs and tidy up the site. The new path looks lovely and really smartens up the front of the house. The only downside is that we really need to get the driveway cleaned up ... and that is a hands and knees job!

That can wait until the weather warms.

At least it wasn't freezing

 The day had finally arrived for me to head over to Cheltenham to pick up my new bike. My original plan was to collect it on the previous Wednesday, but last week's freezing weather put paid to that plan.

This morning I woke to a thick blanket of fog, which started to lift as the morning progressed. The sun was visible by the time 30% and I headed South down the M5, but patches of thick fog were encountered as we made our way towards Cheltenham.

I went through the various formalities at the Motoradd dealership before being shown the bike controls and features ... It is like a bloody space ship compared to my other bikes. I won't bore you with the specifications, but fully adjustable rider modes, hill start assist, and clutchless gear changes are but a few from the very long list* ... It's going to take me a good while to become familiar with them, and part of me is already wondering whether I should be fiddling with electronic gizmos when I should be paying attention to the maniac car drivers around me?**

Eventually the hand-over was completed and it was time for me to take the first ride on my new bike. A lower height seat had been fitted, which made me far more confident with the bike at a standstill, but I noticed how heavy she was compared to my other bikes. The starter button was pushed and she rumbled in to life. I pulled away, with 30% watching and then got cut up by a prat in a mini before I had even got off the car park!

I found her fairly easy to ride and the ROAD mode was unthreatening. However a busy motorway with periodic patches of fog was no fun. My helmet's visor needed regular wiping to remove the droplets from the fog and it was not a great ride. The roads were busy, the weather was poor and my shiny new bike was getting covered with a layer of filth from the road.

As first dates go, this wasn't the best!

I also found it challenging to find the right point in the rev range to change gears. It alternated between smooth changes and graunches that made me wince in mechanical sympathy.

I need warm weather, clear dry roads and I need that now!

TP and his mate Charlie are both keen bikers and were interested to know how I found the bike. I had to answer that I really wasn't able to formulate an opinion on a quick whizz up the motorway in shitty weather. As I've already said, I need better weather, less traffic and more miles to become familiar with her.

I did also pop in to see Buzzer and show off my new pride and joy. Buzzer was his usual lovely self and was both surprised and delighted with my new acquisition. Both he and Dotty came out for a viewing and to watch me head off after an hour of coffee and chat.

One might think that was enough for the day ... Hell No!

I then needed to spend a couple of hours with hose pipe, bucket and chammy leather to wash off the accumulated road salt and other filth.

As I write this the R1250R is now sat in the garage, and she is a lot cleaner than she was when she first arrived at her new home. She'll need a few hours with some polish and a duster, but that can wait for a day or two.

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* One of the features is that the bike is fitted with a multitude of sensors and these can detect whether it has been dropped or involved in an accident. If triggered, the sensors will contact a call centre via the on-board SIM card. The call centre will ask, via the motorcycle if I am alright. If they cannot get a response they will notify the emergency services, using the SIM card to provide location details.

** One wonders if this is why they installed the feature outlined in the previous footnote?

Tessa, whoever she may be?

The work on the path at the front of the house continues and the Indian green sandstone paving stones were laid today. It is going to look really smart once they have been grouted and edged with pea gravel.

A couple of days ago, during the construction of the hardcore base, Jason knocked at the door. They had lifted the old step and discovered a finely worked grave stone. The face of the stone is about a foot square, and it is seven inches deep. It bears the inscription "Tessa, 1957 - 1969" and this has been done with much skill and care.

We can only assume that this was a memorial to a much loved pet, and it seemed quite disrespectful to have used it as a foundation stone for some steps. It has now been placed in the low stone wall that borders the front lawn and can be seen each time we leave the house.

Our neighbours;* Charmian and Peter have lived here for many decades and were certainly familiar with the two previous owners. It is hoped that they may be able to shed some light on who Tessa was.

My day was hardly momentous. I visited the dentist this morning for a filling and a cleaning session and, on the homeward journey, picked up a bag of layers pellets from the feed store. I also checked on the state of the charging batteries. They seem to be taking a charge, so it looks like I'll be treating the hives for varroa in the next few days.

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* They live out of sight, on the other side of the low hill about four hundred yards away from the cottage. That's the definition of a neighbour round here.

I'm not safe out on my own!

If you read yesterday's Journal Entry you might have noted that one of my minor accomplishments was the emptying of the embers from the Log Burner. This needs doing every few days to ensure that it burns well. The embers can be very hot so they're shovelled in to a metal bucket, which is left in the carport while the embers cool to ashes.

The cooling time is a key point and I clearly remember reminding 30% that the bucket needed leaving for a couple of days before it was tipped in the dustbin.

Unfortunately I didn't heed my own warning ... let me explain. 

Alan was due to arrive around lunchtime to collect the Series 2. So, for the fourth time in the past few days, I again needed to clear the garden chairs, barbecue etc from around the Land Rover so that it could be winched out and on to a transporter. 

The bucket of ashes was sat in the carport and I chucked them in to the black wheelie bin without a moment's thought.  The area around the vehicle was now clear and I headed indoors to continue with my day.

All was well until there was an urgent knocking on the door. On opening the aforementioned portal I found Josh, one of our workmen, looking a little flustered. "You've set your bin on fire" he advised, and he almost managed to conceal a grin.

I went outside to investigate and I had done a proper job. The black bin was melted from rim to base, and its contents were spilling from a 10" wide wound. The adjacent recycling bin fared slightly better, but it too was going to need to be replaced.

I am such a tool!

Having ensured that the bin fire had been extinguished, I then spent a merry twenty minutes on the internet and phone arranging for the two bins to be replaced. The cost of my idiocy; sixty three of your Great British Pounds.

Nursing my bruised wallet, I spent much of the day injuring my bank balance even further. The 5 Series insurance and warrantee were renewed and it also needs an oil service, so that got added to the list of work that will be done when it goes to the local dealership on 5th February.

Obviously the Series 2 did get dragged off the premises at lunch time and Alan did his best to make my bank balance look a little healthier by paying the outstanding balance on the car.

So that was my day; Arson, Administration & Automotive Antics.

Domesticity

There is little of interest to report for today.

That is not to say that my day was dull. It was just taken up with domestic activities. The little jobs that need to be done to keep things rolling along.

In the morning 30% and I headed in to Redditch to pick up a few groceries and to replace our carbon monoxide alarm. You see, nothing exciting, just making sure that we are fed and that we don't suffocate in our sleep.

In the afternoon I emptied the log burner and spent half an hour transferring soot and charred tar from the log burner glass to my hands and clothing. 

I then headed outside and refreshed the moisture traps in the 5 Series. It is currently sat in the carport under cover. I have prudently installed a couple of moisture absorbing devices to prevent the car getting damp as it sits unused over Winter. I replaced the crystals in one of the traps and put the silica beads from the others in to a low oven to dry for a couple of hours.

While the silica beads slowly desiccated I finally got around to insuring the new motorcycle, as I will be picking it up in the coming week.

The final activity of any significance was to attempt to get a charge in to a car battery.  This is not for automotive purpose, but is actually beekeeping related.  Each Winter the bee hives are treated with oxalic acid vapour as a precautionary measure to control varroa mites.* The battery is used to provide a heat source to vaporise the oxalic acid crystals in the hive.

Unfortunately my battery didn't seem inclined to take a charge. Bugger, I may need to find another, as the hives need treating in the next week or two.

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*These are a parasitic mite that can have a devastating effect on a colony. A varroa infection can lead to total colony loss.

This wasn't on my to do list

 The weekend has arrived and 30% has been inundated with messages from potential buyers for the Series 2 Land Rover.  She had already arranged for "Alan" to come and take a look at midday, but some oddball going by the name of "Grab" was incredibly anxious to come and view too. 

While 30% attempted to arrange viewing appointments, I headed outside and, once again,  cleared the area around the Land Rover of garden chairs, the barbecue and other assorted debris.

Alan arrived at midday with his son and father, literally three generations of Land Rover addicts.  They spent a good hour going over the vehicle before deciding that it was worth saving. 

After a short haggling session a price was agreed and a healthy deposit was put down. The Series 2 will be collected on Monday and I will finally have some space in the car port.

Having sold the Land Rover, I must admit that I felt that I deserved a lazy Saturday afternoon. An hour was spent snoozing on the sofa in front of the log burner and some low quality television was consumed.

I won't miss the Series 2. I bought it back in 2020 when we lived at The Pile down in the village. At that time we had just about finished the work on the house and I needed another project. However, we were then offered first refusal the cottage, and it was an offer that we couldn't refuse.

Moving in to the cottage meant that our priorities changed. Maintenance and restoration of the house and gardens take precedence. The realist in me knew that I was never going to find the motivation to restore the Land Rover when there were so many other things to do. I also have a string of other interests to consume my hours.

It just took me a few years to get my arse in to gear and get the damned thing advertised. It's surprising how motivated I have become after over spending on a new motorbike. 

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Post Script: I'm not sure what aspect of the Land Rover sale is most attractive. I agree that my bank balance looks healthier, but both 30% and I agree that more space in the carport is very welcome. It'll be much easier to stack the logs from the conifer that blew down, without a crumbling vehicle in the way. On balance I think the extra space in the carport wins.

Liquidating Assets

I had an appointment with the dental hygienist this morning. I mentioned that I had some recent discomfort with one of my teeth and it appears that I need a filling too. As a result my appointment was aborted and rescheduled to next Tuesday, as more time would be needed to complete the work.  I will now have the pleasure of a twenty five minute appointment featuring anaesthetics, drilling and that, oh so pleasant, scrape and polish. I really can't wait!

On my return I prepared for the arrival of Mike, the chap that had contacted me earlier in the week about the sale of my Browning shotgun.  It is fair to say that I was somewhat apprehensive about selling the shotgun. Mike was a complete unknown and could be anywhere on a spectrum that ranges from nice guy to homicidal maniac. Then there are the legal aspects to consider. I needed to verify his identity and ensure that his shotgun license was legitimate. I also needed to ensure that the monies were transferred and that the relevant Police firearms units were notified of the sale. 

If any of this goes wrong the least worst outcome is that I loose out on the sale fee. The worst case scenario is a world of trouble with the Police and Magistrates.

As it happens Mike was genuine and a pleasure to do business with. I also managed to persuade him to part with an extra twenty quid over the agreed sale fee, in exchange for a spare gun slip that I no longer needed. 

Later in the day I had the first viewing of the Series 2. A chap call Phil arrived and gave it a thorough going over. He eventually started to haggle, but we couldn't agree on a price. His limit appeared to be £1900, which I politely declined.* 

I pointed out that he was the first to view the vehicle and that I had a long list of other people queuing up to come and take a look. I also let him know that I'd agree to a price provided that it began with a two. He declined to move any further, so I let him disappear in to the frosty darkness while I returned to the warmth of the fire.

The next chap is scheduled to turn up tomorrow at midday.

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* I am asking £2250

Significant effort, but no real change

 I seemed to spend most of today shifting things around. My to-do list refers to tidying" activities, such as "tidy garage" and "tidy carport", but I'm not sure that anything looks tidier at the end of today.

Here's what happened. 

30% has advertised the Series 2 Land Rover project on Facebook marketplace and has been deluged with requests for photos.  Unfortunately the Series 2 is tucked in to the car port alongside the BMW and it is surrounded by crap miscellany. I spent a merry half hour moving plant pots, garden chairs, a barbecue, a wheelbarrow and even a handful of dog toys before I could get an uninterrupted view of the vehicle.

However, I still couldn't start snapping. I then needed to clear access to the garage* so that I could grab one of the Land Rovers doors.  This was carefully positioned in the appropriate aperture, so that the car would appear slightly less of a wreck when photographed.

Only then was I able to grab a number of photos that might pique the interest of potential buyers. Having taken the pictures, I then needed to put everything back in to the car port, although I did make an executive decision and an old half barrel planter ended up smouldering on the bonfire in the orchard.

That was the morning just about done. I had spent most of it moving crap around and taking a few photos of a very scabby vehicle. The few minutes I had spare were spent downloading the photos to my PC, where careful edits and crops were made. I then fired them over to 30% to add to her advertisement.**

The afternoon was, unfortunately, quite similar. I needed to make space in the garage for my new bike. So time was spent taking vehicles out of the garage, shuffling them around and then putting them back. In honesty it looks no tidier, perhaps even more cluttered. But I do now have room for the R1250R.  I am, however,  somewhat concerned, as it will be in close proximity of the space that TP is using to build a "sound trolley".  Apparently this is a small cart used to move sound recording equipment around movie sets and locations.  That's what he says. I say "it is a pile of crap cluttering up my bloody garage and why the fuck isn't it being built in his garage, or perhaps that of his Boss; Robin?"

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* Access was somewhat limited due to three tonne bags of sand and aggregate and a pallet of Indian sandstone pavers delivered for Grubby Jason to finish the front path.

** I do not have a Facebook profile as I am of the strongly held opinion that it is a Social Media entity populated by vapid idiots. Mind you, if you want to sell rubbish, vapid idiots are your target audience. Hence I employed 30% to advertise the Series 2 and act as a shield between me and the multitude of tyre kickers that have defended like digital vultures upon the carcass that is my car advert.

A day spent in close proximity to the sofa

 This is going to be far from interesting, as most of today was spent working leather conditioner in to a three seater, Chesterfield sofa.

It was surprisingly hard work to ensure that my home-made leather conditioner was worked in to each and every fold of the sofa. I did use a commercial leather cream on the seat cushions and was surprised to find that it was nowhere near an effective as my own preparation. The downside of this discovery was that I needed to redo the cushions to ensure that they looked just as good as the rest of the settee.

One positive from spending the day on my hands and knees massaging a piece of furniture, was that the room is home to our amplifier, turn table and vinyl collection. I had a lovely time rediscovering albums that I hadn't listened to for a long while.

That just about covers my main achievement. I have also arranged to collect my new bike next Thursday and there has also been additional interest in the gun I have advertised. I'm reasonably confident that it will be sold by the weekend. 

30% has also advertised the old Series 2 on Facebook Marketplace and we already have someone asking for photos ... Let's not get too excited, there are plenty of tyre kickers out there.

Getting on with stuff

 I find that it is challenging to achieve anything significant at this time of year. Outside it is freezing cold and most definitely uninviting. Inside 30% has encouraged inactivity by lighting a fire. I have to resist strong urges to settle on the sofa with a book.

I must still have the embers of my work ethic glowing somewhere deep inside me as I seem to have, reluctantly, got my mojo working.

This morning I started with some admin. I made the final payment on the new bike and then drafted and printed* a couple of pro-formas to cover the likely sale of my shotgun. I then attempted to get the 5 Series booked in for its MOT test and a recall notice** and this is where things went astray.

I had tried to get the car booked in yesterday, but had missed the call back from the BMW Dealership. I found them to be equally busy today, and, again they promised to call me back. I had stupidly given them my land line number, and this meant that I was restricted to being within earshot of the home phone until they called back. Unfortunately they didn't call until the late afternoon, and I was left struggling to find things to do.

I settled on applying some home made leather conditioner to one of our sofas. This went well and the treated leather looked and felt beautiful, but the jar was far from full when I started. Within a short while I had an empty jar and a half finished sofa. 

This was bloody annoying as I had all of the ingredients to make up a new batch of leather conditioner, but they were all outside in the store room ... note previous comments about staying within earshot of the home phone.

Eventually I was free from being shackled to the phone and I made up another batch of leather treatment. Here is a quick summary of the method.***

• The recipe uses beeswax and vegetable oil at a ratio of 1 : 3.5
• The mixture can be scented with fragrance oils, if desired
• Melt the beeswax using a Bain Marie method. Note: do not use your best saucepans.
• Once completely melted, add in the vegetable oil and stir well until the mixture is clear
• Add in the fragrance oil, if required 
• Remove the pan from the Bain Marie and carefully pour the mixture in to a jar
• Allow to cool overnight and the conditioner is ready for use.

I used a couple of ounces of beeswax and about seven and half ounces of vegetable oil. This produced about half a pint of leather conditioner, which will last me a good while ... more than enough to finish the sofa.

My final accomplishment was to draft a to do list. Oh my God! It is massive and none of it looks like fun

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* This sounds like a few minutes of effort, but by the time I had recovered the printer from the store room and struggled unsuccessfully to get the little bastard to connect to the home wifi, it took the best part of an hour.

** Replacement of the EGR Cooler

*** NOTE: The ingredients are potentially flammable and should never be exposed to a naked flame. There is a risk of fire and consequent injury and damage when making this product. You do so at your own risk.

Sometimes I surprise myself

Yesterday I mentioned the need to get rid of some of my accumulated crap unwanted possessions. I had vague plans about how to move forward with this objective, but, in reality,  my level of procrastination is mountainous.*

However, today I managed to amaze myself.  

The day started with the arrival of Grubby Jason and Josh. They were here to replace the path that leads to the front door. It is dreadfully uneven and laid on earth. It has a curious charm when cleared and tidied, but reverts to a weed infested, trip hazard within the blink of an eye.

The plan is to replace the original path with Indian green sandstone, much like that laid on the rear patio. Jason will then use the original paving stones to rebuild the low wall that retains the front lawn.

I appreciate that I am wandering from the point of today's entry, so I'll try to get back on track. 

Josh is a Land Rover nut and, on arrival, he was drawn to the festering wreck of a Series 2 model that is sat in the car port. I immediately attempted to sell it to him, but he declined as he has not yet finished his current Series 2 project. During our discussions I mentioned that I had a period capstan winch available and his interest was piqued. Over the course of the morning he had taken a look at the winch and by lunchtime a deal was done and £650 had fluttered across the ether and settled in my current account.

Buoyed** by my sales success I headed upstairs and decided that I should get my Browning Liberty Light shotgun advertised. After all I hadn't used it since upgrading to my Miroku MK38, and that was three years ago. After much faffing with my camera and computer I had a reasonable advert drafted, and I hit the magic button to make the ad live on Gun Trader.

Within half an hour I had received an enquiry about the gun, and over the course of the day several emails were exchanged. It looks like I have managed to sell the gun for a reasonable price. The prospective purchaser must be keen as they are willing to travel for two hours to view the gun. He will be coming down in Friday afternoon to, hopefully, conclude the deal.

I was congratulating myself on liquidating these assets, when my phone pinged. It was a message from Bubbles. It seems that my purchase of the R1250R has given him a proverbial kick up the arse. He has purchased a helmet, is about to book his Mod 2 test and has reported that that he will have funds available to buy my R nineT by February.

Bloody Hell! He hasn't even ridden it yet.

---

* I even managed to procrastinate further in the fourth paragraph of yesterday's Journal entry!

** If you're American this is pronounced "boyed", NOT "boo-eeyed"

Inventory Rationlisation

 Having been unbelievably impulsive yesterday, AND having an unbelievably accepting and encouraging wife, today I faced the cold light of dawn. Whilst I can afford the new bike, I really do need to sell of some of my unused and unwanted shit.

At the top of the list is my BMW R nineT and following in swift succession is my Browning shotgun and the Series 2 Land Rover Project that will never ever get completed. 

30% is also urging me to make a decision about the 110 Defender. It is a great utility vehicle, but its vehicle excise duty is fucking ridiculous at £730 per annum.* Do we really need it, or should we just fit a tow bar on one of the two other cars?  The only real use it gets is when the weather is appalling, or when the fishing peg of choice is down a rutted track.

Cars and bikes need to be cleaned before they are sold and the weather is a million miles away from car cleaning weather. We also have Grubby Jason arriving tomorrow to lay the new path to the front door. Using these as valid excuses it was agreed that we do nothing with regard to selling vehicles until the drive is clear of mini excavators and piles of hardcore.

So, what did I get up to today? Well, 30% and I headed in to Alcester and picked up our varifocals from Specsavers.  I tried mine out on the drive home and they are a bloody revelation! I could see stuff outside the car without problem, but now I can see the trivial details of what the various buttons do and what speed I am travelling at too.

I forgot to mention that we had a fall of wet snow overnight and this did not encourage us to venture outside any more than was absolutely necessary. We therefore spent the afternoon inside and did a little furniture rearranging in the space that used to be my home office.  It is now a second sitting room that links to the dining room. Our current debate is what to call this space as we already have a living room that is referred to as the snug.

I'm going with smug, until someone comes up with something better.

It was always going to happen

 It is fair to say that I was very keen to visit the BMW dealer in Cheltenham, but they do say "don't wish your life away". 

So let's start with this morning's visit to the Cotswold Shooting Ground in Childswickham.  I met up with Bubbles and Ben, and had a fun morning smashing a few clays. I managed to hit more than I missed, scoring 41/80. It's not a great score, but I was reasonably pleased, considering that I haven't shot much in the past six months.

On the final three stands we developed a new variant of English Sporting Clays by presenting the clays in any order and even releasing a simultaneous pair rather than on report* clays. We found it amusing ... after all, clay shooting can get a little too serious for me.

Back at home, we lunched and I checked to see that my tax rebate had finally arrived in my current account. It had, so I called to check that the bike was still available. It was, so we headed down the M5 towards Cheltenham.

It's pretty obvious that buying the bike was a foregone conclusion. It was in beautiful condition having covered only seven miles. It had a specification more comprehensive than that detailed in its on-line listing and I even managed to negotiate a lower height seat in to the deal.

We estimate that the bike was around four thousand pounds less than the "new" price, simply because it had been pre-registered in September last year.

Now I need to arrange insurance and, to quote 30%, get my act together and sell off a few unused possessions.

---

* When shooting on report clays, the shooter calls "pull" and the trap operator releases the first clay in to the air. As soon as the shooter fires, the second clay is released ... on the sound of the shotgun's report

What have I/we done?

 Let's start off with a confession. 

I have too many motorbikes. You can only ride on at a time and, often, poor weather or the demands of my life get in the way of riding. However, I have never let these stop me and my current collection comprises my old CBR 600, the little Enfield Trials bike, the Moto Guzzi and my BMW R nineT. I am very fond of each and every one of them, but, if I continue this confession, I don't ride them that often.

When I do ride it is a delight and I keep promising myself that I will get out on my bikes more frequently. In April last year I joined TP and a couple of his mates for a mini motorcycle tour of Wales and had a lovely time ... despite the rain! They are keen to do more touring and, strangely, seem quite happy to have me tag along. My little Guzzi is a reasonable tourer, but I have really fancied something a little more capable since being bitten by the touring bug.

I love the grunt of the R nineT, but it is no tourer. Fitting luggage on it would be a challenge and the very thin seat rapidly becomes a pain in the arse. It has a beautiful boxer engine, so I started to look at what else BMW has in its model range. My eye's beheld the R1250R and that was it.

It has a similar, but more powerful engine than the R nineT. It is a roadster that looks good, handles well and it is capable of being fitted with luggage. It also has a relatively low seat height, which is a must for my hobbit like dimension. It really would be ideal for me.

I tried one for size at the Motorcycle Live show last November and even attempted to arrange a test ride, but, after being let down by the Warwick BMW Motorrad dealership I gave up and perused the on-line advertisements.

I found a nice looking machine up in Cheshire and bookmarked the ad. Unfortunately it sold over the Christmas holiday period and I was back to on-line shopping wishing. 

Yesterday I found a beautiful looking machine with an almost perfect specification* at BMW Motorrad in Cheltenham. It was the right colour. It was a pre-registered machine with only five miles on the odometer. It was expensive, but massively discounted compared to a new, unregistered machine and it was only thirty miles down the road.

30% suggested that we should go and see it tomorrow ... What has she done?

---

* It only lacks side cases ... and I'm certain I can pick those up for less than BMW's stratospheric accessory pricing!

Not the best way to spend a day

 It comes to something when the highlight of my day was driving to the airport to pick up TP. It was lovely to catch up with him after his New Year celebrations in Dublin. Apparently plenty of Guinness was drunk, good food was eaten and he even managed a walk in the Wicklow mountains.

As for me, my day started with a trip to the Eye Clinic for a check up. My IOP is coming down nicely and the other issues appear to be improving too. That was it, nothing more. I hauled my arse out of bed, drove to Worcester and got nothing more than, "yep it all looks OK, carry on with the treatment, and see you at some point in the future for another check up".

I've already mentioned the precisely timed trip to Birmingham to collect TP. It was precisely timed as you only get ten minutes free parking at the airport and I'd rather fritter away my cash on something other than NCP fees.

On our return we called at 30%'s brother's house for a New Year get together. It was OK, I suppose. A decent cup of coffee and a rather nice slice of cake was served, but there is a BUT ... Every time we meet with 30%'s family, they descend in to extremely tedious conversations about people and events of which I have absolutely no knowledge.

I sit quietly on the outer edge of these conversations bored and unable to participate. I spend my time half listening and wondering for just how long they will continue.  I know it would be seen as very rude to opt out of these get togethers, but isn't it equally rude to spend all afternoon in a conversation that excludes members of the party?

30% mentioned that I was very quiet at her brother's house and asked if I was alright. I pointed out that it is very difficult to take part in a conversation when I have met the subjects of discussion on only one or two brief occasions many years ago.

Unusually for 30%, there was no rebuttal.

MNX*

I find it quite odd that the most peculiar and irrelevant items can be recalled from one's childhood and adolescence. I can have problems recalling what I did yesterday, but strange oddities from well over forty years ago pop in to my mind. I don't know what triggers them. They just turn up, out of the blue.

I had one of those distant memory experiences when thinking about today's Journal entry. I knew what I was going to write about and the title of the entry sprang fully formed in my mind. As it rattled around in my brain I noticed that it was dragging along a memory of a long distant English lesson. That lesson was about wordplay and the teacher introduced us to a book called Let stalk strine by Professor Afterbeck Lauder.  For some reason it has stuck with me ever since and I believe that this is still regarded as one of the finest works about the Australian dialect.

I don't recall whether the lesson included rebuses, but MNX is well known rebus puzzle, and one simply has to say the letters out loud to reach its solution; "ham and eggs".  

So, how does ham and eggs apply to today's events? Well, I wandered up to the chicken coop this morning and ensured that they had food and water. I peered inside the coop and noticed an egg on the floor. They have finally started to lay about 157 days, or 22 weeks, after hatching.  Normally I wouldn't expect them to start laying until the day length is noticeably increasing in early March. I don't know whether any of the other pullets will follow suit in the coming days, or whether we will be waiting a while for the next one.

And now to the ham. At the request of 30%, I grabbed a carving knife and sliced up the remainder of our Christmas ham. This was divided in to portions, vacuum packed and frozen. 

So, there you have it. New Years day summed up in three letters; MNX.

---

* a rebus

Channelling my inner Garbo?

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

Like hot cakes

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had better keep selling like hot cakes.

---

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

My God! I've actually done something today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Ongoing inactivity

 The Christmas inertia continued today.

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

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

Roll on twelfth night

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

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

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

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

---

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

Now we can relax

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

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

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

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

It tastes divine!

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

Christmas Eve

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

* Honey Roast Ham

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

Mmmm!

Sixty One

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

A new Christmas/Birthday tradition?

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

That's bloody annoying!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can't be bothered

 Not a lot to report for today. 

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

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

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

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

---

* Masquerade by Terry Pratchett

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

Warning!

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

I've warned you. Just don't!

That'll do

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

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

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

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

---

* for someone my age

** few!

I've had enough now

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

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

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

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

Nearly finished

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

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

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

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

---

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

One step forward ...

... two steps back.

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

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

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

Friday, 13th December, 2024

Well, considering the date, today went reasonably smoothly. 

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

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

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

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

Saturday, 14th December, 2024

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

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

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

Sunday, 15th December. 2025

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

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

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

That's quite enough for now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It'll recover ... eventually

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

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

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

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

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

I did say the garden got very wet

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

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

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

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

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

A full agenda

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tree Felling

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Storm Darragh

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

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

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

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

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

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

The invisible chain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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* or, to be more specific, the lavatory

Duvet day

I'm not well. 

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

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

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

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

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

Pharaoh's Revenge

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

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

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

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

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

I really do not feel well.

Homeward bound

GMT +2

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

GMT

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


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

Our last day in Aswan

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

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

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

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

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

Day of rest

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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