Planting out at last

I was out early this morning for a trip over to Droitwich to see the Consultant Optometrist. 

Once I was back at home I headed out to the newly tilled vegetable patch with watering cans, pegs, a line and a trowel and finally set to putting some plants in the ground. Since moving here I have become really quite taken with growing vegetables and they really do taste so much better than the produce at the supermarket. It may be down to the varieties or just that the veg is fresh taking literally minutes to go from plant to plate.

We are nowhere near sufficient, but, all being well, the freezers will be filled with surplus produce over the next few months and we will be able to delight in soup made from home grown tomatoes and frozen fresh runner beans well in to next year.

I put in a row and a half of celeriac* and eighteen runner bean** plants with their requisite bamboo teepees.  

It all looks beautifully neat and ordered at the moment, but I am well aware that the bloody weeds will be poking up the moment I turn my back.

Note to self: get 30% to reach out to Bev and Dawn and arrange for us to go over and pick up some horse shit to mulch the bare earth.

While I was planting, 30% has been hard at it in the orchard and has cleared a huge amount of deadwood from the top, right hand corner, which was left when we had the hedge laid back in the Spring of 2021.

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* 20 plants that I have raised from seeds, Var: Ilona 

** Variety: Lady Di.

A Bonfire in the Orchard

30% and I spent much of our time in the orchard today. The weather is unseasonably cool, so our plan was to complete a task that would ward away the chills.

Our goal was to have a bonfire and deal with the large pile of stems and branches abandoned there after the Winter fruit tree pruning.  Over the past few months a dense mass of stinging nettles and docks had grown up through the pile and it was certainly overdue for clearance.

We have a metal cage about 5' in length, 4' wide and about 3' high. It is great for bonfires, but was already heaped his with weeds and other material from our gardening activities.

Phase 1 was to drag out branches from the nettle patch and cut them in to reasonable lengths. After about an hour we both had a couple of good sized piles, so I grabbed matches, a cardboard box filled with shredded paper and about an eggcup of heating oil ... Despite the wind I had the fire lit with a single match and 30% and I started to pile on dry wood.

We soon had a blazing fire, hot enough to burn the damp herbage previously piled in the burner along with the pruned wood.

Whilst we were working the dogs alerted us to a visitor at the gate. It was my adopted dad; Buzzer who had come to pay us a visit and invite us over for dinner on Saturday evening. We caught up on each other's news whilst drinking coffee and warming ourselves by the bonfire.

30% needed to head off to the Opticians in the early afternoon, so I piled the fire high with the last of the brush cut grasses from my orchard clearance last month and then attended to an odd hole in the orchard.

Now the orchard is far from an even piece of ground, but there is this weird hole about a foot deep and about three feet square. It is regular in shape and it looks like someone might have attempted to dig a very shallow pool at some point in the past. All I know is that it gets concealed by the rampant growth of grass and herbs and I fall in to the bloody thing on a regular basis.

We had some topsoil spare, so it has now been filled and I scattered some grass seed on it.

If you could see the rabbit hole ridden, rough patch that is our orchard, you might think that gallons of herbicide and a bulldozer would be a more appropriate tactic. You might be right, but I'm tempted to have a play with the new rotorvator and see if it is feasible to get parts of it levelled and grassed ... I can always hire a mini digger later if I need to.

Notes on Carrots

I found time today to get some carrots planted in the smaller of the new raised beds.

In previous years 30% has grown carrots in containers and her approach has been to sprinkle on the tiny seeds and water.  Thinning has not been her thing, leading to very closely packed plants. The result has been tasty, but tiny, little carrots no bigger than one's little finger.  They have been perfect for dipping in hummus, but not really worth the effort to prepare and cook.

This time I decided to take more technical approach, but found that details were lacking. 

These notes are to help me work out what went wrong later in the season.

It is said that silver sand acts as a diluting agent and enables the tiny seed to be more evenly distributed along the row.  I found an internet resource that suggested that a quarter of a teaspoon of seed be mixed with a cup of silver sand, but there was no advice on what length of row this should sown in to.

I ended up distributed my sand/seed mixture evenly over five rows, each of which was about 3 feet in length. The seed was sown at a depth of about half an inch.

I should see results in about ten days, so fingers crossed that the bloody pigeons keep off them.

The Rotamatiser!

 First job of the day was to tender my resignation as co-chair of the local Horticultural society.  I used to get paid quite handsomely to deal with sarcastic and petty wankers, but I certainly wasn't going to that for free as a volunteer.  

The abridged version of events was that a poster redesign took place.* The abomination was distributed with a request for feedback and I provided a couple of comments** instead of tearing the thing to shreds and doing it myself.

The designer*** decided to get pissy and questioned my understanding of design and finished off with, if you think you can do better, do it yourself.

The society is a real ball ache and, in my opinion is at the end of its life. I have tried making a number of suggestions to encourage new membership and make the club more accessible and inclusive, but these have been met with indifference and a strong desire to continue doing things as they have always been done.

They had therefore given me an easy way out and I politely resigned, pointing out that I was not a good fit for a committee where common courtesy falls by the wayside when requested feedback is given.

I have subsequently received an non-apology from Mr Pissy, recognition of my organisation skills, ideas and enthusiasm, followed by requests to reconsider my decision ... Yep, they can go and fuck themselves!

Now on to important matters ... The Rotamatiser. 

After topping up the larger of the raised beds, 30% and I headed over to Tewkesbury to the commercial premises of Gizzy and Jules.  When we last met up they advised than an elderly acquaintance had a rotorvator for sale at a very attractive price of sixty quid.  We leapt at the offer and then the old Duffer went cold on the idea and decided that he would hold on to it ... arse!

However, a couple of weeks ago Gizzy got in touch to advise that the Rotamitiser was now definitely available and we leapt again.  We spent a lovely morning catching up with G&J and the Rotamatiser looked in great condition. It even still bore the little label from its most recent service.

After an hour or so of coffee and chat, we loaded the little red beast in to the back of the Defender and headed back home. A quick lunch was eaten and the little monster was unloaded and plonked in the veg patch.

An hour later I can report that it is awesome in a wrestling with a bear whilst trying to excavate to the centre of the earth sort of way. It was certainly a work out, but the results are amazing. The vegetable garden is now a tilled masterpiece and I am just a little sad that events and weather have meant that we have missed the planting window for some of our favourite crops. 

Still, not to worry, we'll find something to grow that isn't beetroot or Pak Choi.

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* and it still looked like an eight year old had been let loose with a desktop publishing application

** I really was restrained, surprising, I know! I suggested we decide on either left or centre justification rather than both and that we tidied up the final elements at the base of the poster relating to sponsors and access to schedules.

*** This is stretching the definition of that word to a monumental extent

Filling our time

 Here's a two in one Journal entry after a couple of jam packed days.

Friday, 7th June

Bubbles and Ben picked me up just before nine o'clock and we headed over towards Ledbury for a practice session on the clay traps at Long Ridge Shooting Ground.  I have only been once before and it certainly hasn't got any easier. 

It is CPSA registered shooting ground which means that it is of a standard suitable for hosting national competitions. *

It is fair to say that I struggled with some many of the birds and I was certainly glad that we weren't keeping score.

I was home early in the afternoon and hitched up the trailer, once again, before heading over to Weston Subedge for the final load of top soil.  I then spent a frustrating hour, or so, on Horticultural Club admin before tidying myself up ... 

... Bubbles had arranged a barbecue for this evening and we had a lovely time centred around salads and grilled meats of many varieties.

Saturday, 8th June

Today was another day with Bubbles and Ben.

This time we had arranged for a day's fishing over at the Lakes in Harvington. By quarter past eight we had purchased three pints of maggots and were setting up our equipment on the edge of the Boundary Pool whilst merrily taking the piss out of each other.

I nearly failed at the first hurdle when my reel jammed, but Bubbles fortunately had a spare and I was soon  drowning maggots in the cool morning air.

Bubbles also decided that we should have a competition for the most fish and the heaviest weight of fish caught, and I was off to a good start when I landed the first fish of the day, a small but handsome 3lb common carp.  I then caught a couple of small Bream before Bubbles brought in a rather nice Perch.  Poor Ben looked a little downhearted as we three were only spaced over about fifteen yards of the bank, but he wasn't having any luck at all.

Bubbles and I were neck and neck before he went ahead just before lunch with six or seven caught to my five.** Ben eventually got lucky with a decent sized bream and he even managed to use the landing net to sweep up a large mirror carp that was idly cruising at the surface just in front of us.  We teased him that he couldn't count that his as he hadn't caught it with a rod and line.

We fished until four o'clock, but we had very few bites after lunchtime. It was, however, pleasant to sit in the sun and talk nonsense for most of the day.

30% and I were out again this evening, visiting the Palace Theatre in Redditch to see a performance by Back to Bacharach. As the name suggests, we were treated to a performance of hits from the song book of Bert Bacharach performed by a seven piece band with four different vocalists.

It was a really great event and the very capable musicians and vocalists certainly did justice to the works of a very talented man. 

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* i.e. Bloody hard!

** My catch was a carp, two small bream, a small tench and an eel, which was very wriggly and quite freaky in its ability to wrap itself around anything it came in to contact with.

Pottering & an infrequent visitor

30% had gone off with a sub-sect of the coven this morning for trip around Hidcote Gardens.  I was left to my own devices and pottered around the greenhouses; watering, pinching out the side shoots on the tomato plants and tying in the tomato vines to the supports.

The afternoon started with a little snooze before I hauled the porn mower from its lair and mowed the front and back lawns.  The attentive reader might recall that the self drive failed on the mower a week ago and I can certainly state that I miss it.  It was quite a workout having to provide the motive power to cut the grass.

I decided that the lawns around the garage and greenhouses could left for another day and retired to the house for refreshments.  As I was sat stroking Hobson I noticed a strange little lump on his leg. Initially I thought it was a skin tag, but as I examined it I realised that it was a tick, quite a large tick!

A quick Google session followed, leading to me digging out my old dissection kit and locating a decent pair of tweezers. Hobson was an absolute star and settled quietly so that I could grasp the vile little parasite where its head entered his leg and pluck it off.

They really are an unpleasant creature that is little more than a flabby grey sack about 6mm long with tiny legs and mouthparts at the very tip. I disposed of the tick and checked all of the dogs just in case.

That just about covers Thursday apart from a walk around the Three Miler with Bobyn and this time we managed to remain dry.

I do have a post script relating to an event earlier in the week. I forgot to mention that on Monday I was leaning on the garden gate having a chat with Sheila, who was on her constitutional around the lanes. As we chatted we both heard a familiar, but now infrequent* sound ... we heard a cuckoo calling.  We both commented that neither of us had heard a cuckoo in years and it was lovely to hear one once again.

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* Apparently cuckoo numbers have declined by at least 65% since the 1980s.

Back Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

** Amitriptylene and Tramadol

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

Planting carrots by the weekend?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A day in bed ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Air Show weekend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Try finding a title for this lot

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Communication Breakdown

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'll be clipping the Box soon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

** about 10'

Mostly Haircuts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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* aka The Rat

Not the busiest of days

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lazy Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Metal Sardines

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Toms are in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More gardening

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

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

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

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

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

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

A day off

 ... or rain stopped play!

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

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

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

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

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