Mostly Haircuts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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* aka The Rat

Not the busiest of days

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lazy Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Metal Sardines

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Toms are in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More gardening

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

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

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

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

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

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

A day off

 ... or rain stopped play!

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

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

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

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

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

Do deer eat pumpkin plants?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that looks a little better!

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

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

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

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

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

The Ingrates

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Progress & Fun

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I keep thinking it is Saturday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Getting my steps in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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* and pinched a slice of coffee and walnut cake

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

Another day, another fraction

 Not a huge amount to report for today. 

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

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

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

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

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

What's the worst than could happen?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rinse and repeat

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

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

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

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

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

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

A start in the orchard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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* Her Parents

Divide & Conquer ... Us verses the Garden

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

** Potentially asbestos based

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

New Pastures

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We live and learn! 

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

** I

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

Well that took longer than it should have

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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* so far!