Prescott

This event had been on the cards for quite a while.

My birthday is in late December, and last year TP presented me with a voucher for us to go to the Classics at Prescott Hill Climb in May.  Unfortunately his work schedule clashed with the event and we, instead, settled on the Prescott Bike Festival which took place over this weekend.

We have been several times over the past few years and the title is self explanatory. It is an informal motorcycle get together in aid of the Blood Bikes Charity. It is an occasion when motorcyclists can apply for an opportunity to run their machine, untimed, up the Prescott Hill Climb course.

The weather was beautiful and, after a wander around the Paddock, TP and I settled ourselves on one of the benches on the hillside and watched the Bikers "run wot they brung".

We saw an amazing variety of motorcycles from modern Super Motards to Classics including a Vincent Black Shadow and several historic racing bikes. 

However our favourite are often the specials and today's winner was a wheelbarrow that had been grafted to the front of a very low slung motorcycle frame. We both awarded virtual honours to the chap that piloted this up hill.  On previous occasions we have seen a rocket powered shopping trolley and even a jet powered hearse, but the wheelbarrow wins by a country mile.

At the end of our day TP headed back to Cardiff to prepare for another week working at Shepperton and I headed back home for a takeaway from China Twon.*

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* This is an intentional typo, let me explain.  For many years our favourite Chinese Takeaway in Alcester proudly displayed and distributed menus bearing the name "China Twon". This was clearly a mistake, an oversight, but we love their food and we have religously referred to the establishment as China Twon ever since we first noticed the glaring error. So, here's a question; is it a typo or a clever marketing ploy? Well the answer is that it was a typo because they have recently, disappointingly, reprinted their menus and corrected the mistake. They will, however, always be China Twon to us.

I ran out of steam

Today's intention was to spray the nettles up in the orchard with SBK brush killer.

Overnight showers had left the vegetation wet, so any spraying needed to be put off until later in the day when everything had dried out.

I therefore started by massaging the cure in to the pork loins and putting on a batch of honey to warm prior to bottling. 

Over the course of the morning I bottled the first batch of honey, put on another batch on to warm and headed out to the raspberry bushes to tie in some of the canes and prune some of the more wayward growth.

By lunchtime I had bottled the second and final batch of honey and had cleared away most of the detritus from that job. I then dutifully gathered up the garden sprayer and SBK and just ground to a halt.

I decided that the weather seemed to be looking good for the next week so the spraying could wait. I, instead, hit the sofa for a good ninety minutes and awoke feeling almost refreshed. My waking coincided with the arrival of a sub-sect of the coven.

I would be home alone this evening as 30% had arranged to see a showing of the Rocket Man film with live orchestration in the Birmingham Symphony Hall.  As she and her coven left, Bubbles turned up and it was time for some edumacation.  Over the past year Bubbles has been teaching me to fish and he has been attempting, and failing, to teach me to shoot clay pigeons for much, much longer.  This evening it was my turn to be Yoda ... 

Bubbles has always wanted to learn to ride a motorcycle and Bobbyn had bought him a voucher for his Motorcycle Compulsory Basic Training (CBT) course as a birthday gift.  Bubbles was really excited, but, by his own admission, he was also very nervous as he has never ridden a motorcycle before.  I had therefore offered him a pootle up and down the lane on my Moto Guzzi V7 Stornello to get him used to the controls and basic riding skills.

Well! Despite his nerves he took to it like the proverbial duck to water. After a couple of tentative, feet barely off the ground, first gear runs up the lane, he finally had the confidence to take on the advice that everything is easier if you just go a little bit faster. He was soon confidently riding up and down the lane changing through the first couple of gears and making very controlled stops.

He was absolutely delighted with the introduction and well pleased he should be. We then had a leisurely natter about riding gear whilst enjoying the evening sun in the garden.

I am pretty sure he will be back for another couple of rides before his CBT on 10th July. I also wouldn't be surprised if he makes an offer on my R nineT as soon as he passes his test.

Odds and Ends

Friday was one of those days when I seemed to be on the go all day, but on review it was just a series of little jobs.

I started out by putting a batch of honey in to a hot water bath to start the bottling process and then massaged the bacon that is curing in the fridge.

I then headed out to the tomato greenhouse and was appalled by the mass of chickweed that covered the soil. It's a shame that we don't have chickens yet, as they would have devoured the sweet green shoots. Instead, I set to with a hand hoe and cleared the mess around each of the tomato plants.

This gave me a chance to inspect each plant, nip out any side shoots and tie them in to their supporting canes.

By the time I had just about finished in the greenhouse the honey needed attending to, and I spent the next half an hour bottling the 6 lb batch.  I have another two batches to bottle before I reach the bottom of the 30 lb tub I bought from Pete last Saturday.

The afternoon saw a trip in to the village. 30% seems to be having a pain free recovery, but she is not yet able to drive, so I was invited to a meeting of the coven in Sheila's garden. This was obviously just an excuse to ensure 30% was able to attend, but I had a fun time listening to the gossip, checking out Sheila's garden and partaking of coffee and cakes.

After a pleasant couple of hours sat in the sun, we headed back home and took a siesta. On waking I extracted the streaky bacon from the fridge. This slab of belly pork has been curing for four full days and is, most definitely, bacon by now.

I cut open the vac bag and extracted the slab of green bacon.* I rinsed off the remaining cure under the tap and then patted the bacon dry. It was then carefully wrapped in a muslin sheet and hung up to air dry.  I will leave it for four or five days before smoking it.

Apart from watering the veg patch, that pretty much sums up my day.

On a final note I can report that the carrots have sprouted and I am DEFINITELY going to need to thin them out.  Despite diluting the seed with silver sand, I have 5 yard long rows of very densely planted seedlings. I estimate that I should either half the amount of seed used or double the length of my rows.

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* Green Bacon: Bacon that has been cured, but not smoked.

Mostly sitting down

 I had blocked out my agenda for today as I would be accompanying 30% in to Worcester for her cataract surgery.

We spent the early part of the morning making sure that the garden was watered before leaving well ahead of 30%'s appointment time. The early departure was so that we could call in at Jules' house to proffer birthday greetings and gifts. Coffee was drunk, gossip was exchanged and then we headed down in to the city, parked and wandered in to the clinic.

30% was seen promptly. Drops were applied to her right eye to dilate the pupil and a rather fetching black arrow was drawn on her forehead to indicate the eye to be treated. She was then sent out to wait for the eyedrops to take effect.

We were both under the impression that we would be in and out of the clinic in about an hour.  Unfortunately this was not the case. Despite the actual procedure taking only twenty minutes, we ended up being there for a good couple of hours due to complications with the patient immediately before 30%.

I amused myself with an extended period of people watching as the clinic looks out over a busy pedestrian thoroughfare leading to the High Street.  I found it quite fascinating to just watch little excerpts from peoples' lives as they wandered, cycled, ambled or strode down the fifty yards of pavement in front of me.

30% was eventually escorted in to the OR and twenty minutes later she reappeared. It had all gone well and after receiving various eyedrops and post-op guidance leaflets we headed home.

A siesta followed a late lunch and I was rudely awoken just before five o'clock by my 'phone. 

It was Bubbles asking if I was still on for an evening's fishing.  30% had confirmed that she was happy to be left at home alone, so I threw my fishing gear in the back of the Defender and headed over to Barton for an evening's fishing on the River Avon.

Our chosen spot is a lovely little meander on the river that is just downstream from the lock and weir. This was our first evening of river fishing in 2024 and, as we set up our gear, we voiced our hopes for monster barbel so strong that they would almost pull our rods from our hands.

We had a lovely evening and learnt something quite interesting. We were ledger fishing using a hair rig and our chosen bait was 1" cubes of luncheon meat. Last year Bubbles was insistent that luncheon meat marinaded with curry powder was the best bait and we did manage to pull a few fish from the water with it. He had therefore turned up this evening with that concoction.

I had gone for an alternative of luncheon meat marinaded with garlic paste and we decided to see whether there was any difference ... There most definitely was!

From the outset I was getting far more attention on my bait and, after I pulled a small chub* from the river, Bubbles switched bait.  In less than ten minutes he had a fantastic bite that was probably a large barbel. Unfortunately the fish broke free leaving an empty hook. Bubbles, ever the optimist, was simply delighted that he now knew that there were barbel for the taking on this stretch of the river.

After changing to the garlic infused bait his bite rate increased significantly.

We fished until eleven o'clock and then headed home. Both of us were delighted in a great start to our 2024 river fishing season with a catch and a new bait identified.

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* Possibly 1.5 lbs and about 9 or 10" in length

Sods Law

Today's primary objective was to clean the BMW.

Neither 30% nor I can bear to part with the Defender, despite the current Vehicle Duty of £735 per annum.   We appreciate that this is an astronomical fee, but it is such a cool, imposing vehicle with real road presence. We just love trundling around in it, so cannot bear to sell it. It also brilliant when it comes to collecting loads of top soil or collecting rotorvators, as it has in the past few weeks.*

However common sense has prevailed and the BMW estate has been sorned and will be put in the car port for the next few months until we both remember how comfortable, warm and delightfully smooth** it is and it will be reinstated as our preferred vehicle for a good few months.

I appear to have entered a weird phase of my life where I alternate between two vehicles depending on the season ... Oh, and one of the motorcycles if it warm, sunny and dry ... and I don't have to carry anything!

Right, I seem to have wandered away from the story line there.  The plan for today was to wash the BMW before I put it away in the car port.

The pressure washer was connected to both power and water and the car was given an initial blast to clean the worst of the Winter grime from its bodywork. 

The sun then decided to show its face and my plans were buggered.  All of the cleaning products I had planned to use were quite clear in their instructions. The paintwork needed to be cool and the products should not be allowed to dry on the car. There was no way I could snowfoam or shampoo the car until the sun went in.  

Basically, and somewhat perversely for the UK, the sun had stopped play!

I checked the forecast and cloud cover looked like it would increase in the afternoon, so the rest of the morning was spent clearing some of the crap that had accumulated in the carport over the past 12 months.  The trailer was sheeted and parked up and the diverse items of garden paraphernalia were put away.

Eventually the weather cooperated and I was able to continue with my car cleaning. A snow foam treatment was applied and washed off and I then filled a bucket, grabbed a wash mitten and gave her a thorough clean.  The pressure washer was used to give her a final rinse and I stood back to admire my hard work.

At this point I will mention that the local farmer had decided that today was the perfect day to bale a crop of hay from the small pasture alongside the cottage.  The baling had produced plenty of dust and my beautifully clean car was now covered with little circles of dust as it had settled on my drying car.

Bollocks, it looks like I'll be doing this again in a few days time!

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* Bubbles, a Volkswagen devotee, also loves it and is absolutely convinced that it is the perfect vehicle for our fishing trips.

** It's bloody quick too. She may be a big old bus, but, when she hitches up her  drawers, she can tear off down the road along with the best of them

Parcels

 I received two parcels today.

The first was 75 jar lids that I had ordered yesterday. In the intervening 24 hours I had managed to totally forget that I had ordered them and was, therefore, a little concerned at the rattly, broken sounding box that arrived this morning.  After identifying the contents I was amazed at the speed of delivery and, if I could have been arsed to leave a review, it would have been very positive.

The second parcel came in a box that was about 50cm x 50cm x 25cm.  Once again, I was a little perplexed at what I had ordered. I opened the large box and was presented with a lot of shredded cardboard packing material. After routing around for a moment or two, my hand fell upon the box of plant fertiliser that I had ordered a couple of days ago.

I looked at the packet of fertiliser, looked again at the box it arrived in, and did a swift mental calculation. I swear that the box could have easily held twenty packets of Phostrogen!

It was bloody ridiculous. "Brown paper and triple twist twine are the preferred media"* and they would have been more than adequate. Instead I got packaging more appropriate to a priceless relic.

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* Thanks Tommy! A prize may be awarded if the source of this quote is identified correctly.

Good News & Not So Good News

 The first event of the day was to accompany 30% on a trip to the Optometrist in Worcester.  She would be having her pupils dilated as part of the examination and this precludes driving for about six hours afterwards.*

The Consultation went well in that she has been booked in for cataract surgery this coming Thursday. This is impressive as the surgery will be eleven calendar days since she first consulted an Optician about her eyesight. The speed of referral and operation scheduling is, quite frankly, amazing.

30% was also delighted when the final comment from the receptionist, after booking a slot for her Op, was "You won't be cooking or doing any cleaning for the next few weeks".

Back at home I massaged the pork that is curing in the fridge and then started to process a batch of honey that needed to be warmed, filtered and bottled.  Over the course of the day I managed to process a further batch of honey and now have twenty, eight ounce jars to be labelled and put out for sale.

I also completed this week's lawn mowing marathon with a forty five minute wander up and down the front lawn. It all looks rather neat and tidy now, although I am seeing signs of weeds ... where's my hoe!

The final activity of the day was a wander out on the Three Miler with Bobyn and the dogs. We had an amusing conversation about our comings and goings since we last saw each other and one of the topics had us in stitches.  I shouldn't really go in to detail but the punchline of this conversation was that she "does watch other things".

I also caught up with Grandad Jack courtesy of WhatsApp and was saddened to learn that he is about to start a course of chemotherapy.  He is, understandably, shocked and terrified by his diagnosis and we both did our best to avoid the subject at all costs. I took the piss, sent him much love and offered him large quantities of home cured bacon as soon as he felt up to it.

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* Many years ago a nurse explained the reason for this. The belladonna based substance dilates the pupils to facilitate the examination of the eye. However, it prevents the construction of the pupil for several hours afterwards and this is the key point. If one were involved in a car accident after having ones' pupils dilated post accident checks will include a medic shining a bright light in to each eye to check the pupillary reflex.   Obviously the belladonna adversely affects the reflex and may result in the medic incorrectly diagnosing a pressure related brain injury.  The treatment may involve many holes being drilled in to the skull to relieve the non existent pressure.

All Mondays should be like this

This morning I took the two loins and the slab of belly pork from the fridge and gathered various implements.

The basic method of making bacon is very simple. The pork loin, or slab of belly, is laid on a large tray. Generous handfuls of the cure mixture are massaged in to the cut of meat and my approach is to then vacuum pack* it, although zip lock bags or sealable containers will work just as well.

As just mentioned, the cuts of pork are inserted in to bags and a couple more handfuls of cure mixture are added. The bags are then sealed and placed in the bottom of the fridge. For the next week the loins will be taken from the fridge each day and will be massaged and flipped over. The belly pork has the same treatment, but will only need four or five days as it is much thinner than a pork loin.

Starting the cure took much of the morning and a spell of gentle pottering** took me through until lunchtime.

In the early afternoon I dragged the mower from the shed and cut the back lawn. I had every intention of doing the same at the front, but heavy, grey clouds and half a dozen drops of rain convinced me that a downpour was imminent and the mower was put back in the shed.

Further pottering ensued, which turned in to an internet search on the best way to put fishing line on to a reel. Half an hour, an arbor knot and a bowl of water later, I can report that my new Shimano reel is replete with 12lb breaking strain line and ready for the next fishing trip.

As afternoon turned to evening I clambered in to the Defender and headed over to collect Bubbles and Ben. We had arranged to attend the last North Cotswold Hunt Supporters Clay Shoot of the year up at Blockley.  We had an amusing evening in beautiful countryside, attempting to hit forty clays.

Surprisingly, Bubbles was well off his usual form and, for the first time ever, I actually managed to equal his score of 25/40.  Ben kicked both of our arses with a fine 28/40 ... for a beginner he is far too fucking good!

The evening ended with a trestle filled with pork pie, sausage rolls and other fabulously unhealthy food.  We filled our faces before heading down from the Cotswold escarpment back in to the Vale.

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* Many years ago we purchased a little vacuum packing unit. It came with a couple of rolls of heat seal plastic bags. This is basically a plastic bag tube on a roll. One cuts off the length that is needed to make the required size of bag and seals one end.  The item to be vacuum packed is then put in the bag and the open end is inserted in to the vacuum packer. A vac & seal button is pressed and all of the air is sucked from the back and the open end is heat sealed. They are an absolutely brilliant device for home freezing as the produce never gets freezer burn.

** Gentle Pottering: a catch all term covering a multitude of skives. These can range from watering the veg plot to putting away an item that has been left on display for so long that it bears a couple of millimetres of dust and at least one abandoned cobweb.

Not a Completer/Finisher today

The weather was a little more seasonal today and, after a few indoor jobs, I did get to experience a few rays of sunshine.

On return from 30%'s shopping trip yesterday, she had proudly presented two full loins of pork. Our supply of bacon is running low and a cure has been discussed for a few of weeks. It now looks like I will be making some bacon in the next couple of days. *

The loins will make some fabulous back bacon and there is a slab of belly pork in the freezer that will make a good few rashers of streaky too.

First job this morning was to mix up a batch of cure. The following ingredients were assembled;

• 500g Salt
• 500g Soft Brown Sugar
• 25g Black Peppercorns
• 25g Coriander Seeds
• a good handful of Bay Leaves
• 2 Star Anise pods
• A few Juniper berries

The spices were ground with a hand blender and then thoroughly mixed with the salt and sugar. This was bagged up and will be rubbed in to the pork tomorrow when I actually have time to get the pork cure underway.

I also cleared the foam from top of the 30lb tub of honey that Pete dropped off yesterday. Again, I didn't have the time to start to clarify, filter and bottle the honey. That too will need to wait for another day.

At lunchtime we headed over to 30%'s brother's house for a joint celebration of the ELF's birthday and Father's Day. It was a pleasant enough do, perhaps a little formulaic, but we had a pleasant lunch and chat before we needed to head home.

30% had planned a trip to Birmingham to see a musical performance of The Wizard of Oz with one of her friends, leaving me home alone this afternoon.

First job was to plant out four tomato plants that we had picked up from a local nursery on our trip out this morning.  For some reason one of my tomato plants has wilted and is now dying, while its neighbours are flourishing. I can see no signs of insect or other infestation and am at a loss to understand its demise.  My approach was to simply remove the dying plant and replace it. I also filled a couple of gaps in the greenhouse with the other new plants.

I was now on a roll and dragged the porn mower from its den. I was well in to the afternoon at this point and settled on just mowing the lawns around the greenhouses, the garage and the verges at the front of the cottage. The front and back lawns can wait until tomorrow.

By the time I had put the mower away it was definitely time for a glass of wine and dinner. I settled down with the dogs and realised that I had managed to start three different jobs today and finish none of them.

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* The bacon cure is becoming an annual event. Over a period of about two weeks a pair of pork loins will be dry cured for about a week, followed by air drying for another week. They will then be hung in a little "tea chest" smoker and cold smoked over smouldering oak sawdust for about 24 hours. Finally the bacon will be sliced, vacuum packed and frozen for consumption over the next year.

A lazy day.

 The forecast for today was rain, lots of rain, so any gardening plans were put on hold.

30% headed out for a supermarket visit and I headed to my desk with the aim of locating a few documents for the FAs. Well, one thing led to another and, before I knew it, it was lunchtime and I was about half way through my on-line tax return for 2023/24.

I still have a few points to clarify, but I hope to have finished the damned thing in the next week, or so.

Just as I was finishing lunch, Pete C called at the house.  Pete is a local beekeeper and it was he who provided me with the bucket of honey that I clarified and bottled for sale at the end of April.  I have managed to sell about 24 lbs of honey from my little roadside stand in the past six weeks and Pete arrived with another bucket of honey in hand.

This is probably an appropriate point to cover the current situation with the bees, or rather lack of them! I've already mentioned that I was virtually housebound for a good chunk of last year and, although I attempted to inspect my bees, there was no way that my condition would allow me to maintain my colonies.

I had four or five hives and each of these needed to be inspected once a week. Each inspection would take a minimum of twenty minutes and, as the colonies took on nectar and pollen, I would be moving honey supers weighing 20+ kilos. I did attempt an inspection early in the year, but only the one. I just couldn't do it.*

My bees were left to their own devices and, unfortunately, by the time I was able to take a look in the Autumn, all of my colonies had swarmed and left the hives empty. The vacant frames were crawling with wax moth larvae and they had eaten their way through the comb leaving behind a mess of frass and untidy webs of grubby silk. It was a very depressing task to burn the frames and dismantle the hives.

Pete was aware of my misfortune and had promised to sort me out with another colony. Over the past couple of months he has been trying to find a colony for me, but the one he has selected, is being problematic.  We had a pleasant hour discussing honeybee management and the options for sorting me out with another colony.  One way, or another, Pete is confident that he will get me started again by the Autumn.  

Obviously I will not be harvesting honey this year, so will be a honey re-seller through until next year, or possibly the year after.

The afternoon faded in to evening and we headed over to see my Alcester Mum and Dad and join them for dinner. We had a lovely evening catching up with each others' news and it was a great way of finishing our lazy day.

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* The rigours of a honey extraction are even more physical and involved. If I couldn't manage colony inspections there was no way I could have harvested a honey crop last year.

More Planting.

 First job of the day was to plant the cabbage and French bean plants that we purchased from Rowberry's yesterday.

This took a good chunk of the morning, as the cabbages needed to be netted to keep the pigeons and butterflies away and teepees needed to be constructed to provide support for the beans. 

The veg patch is filling up quite nicely, but there will be plenty of  room for the peas and beans that 30% sowed this afternoon.

I also sowed a few seed in the larger of the two raised beds. We bought some Spring Onion seeds yesterday and I planted a 3' row. The plan is to plant a 3' row each week for the next few weeks to give us a longer cropping of these tasty little bites.

Our gardening was interrupted for a brief chat with the FAs before we returned to the plot. I managed to clear the weeds from the final square yard of path up by the well and can therefore mark this job as complete ... until the little buggers start growing again!

Hypothermia!

 The plan for this morning was to head over to Rowberry's Nursery to meet up with Mr & Mrs Tweedy.

This seemed like a great idea, as a day of rest was in order after our recent gardening exertions. Fortuitously it would also keep us out of the unseasonably cold weather.

I'm not a fan of the cold, so having never visited this establishment before, I asked 30% whether it was an indoor or  outdoor experience.  She informed me that it was an indoor premises, so I stupidly assumed that a coat would not be necessary.

We arrived and partook of coffee and cake in the cafe before venturing out ... KEY WORD there "OUT" in to the polytunnels that formed the accommodations for an absolutely splendid array of plants.  The only problem was that the polytunnels were open ended and a biting wind blew down each and every one of them.

After an hour, or so, of wandering I was fucking freezing* and not in the most positive of moods. It was fair to say that I was relieved when lunch was mentioned and we, again, retired to the cafe to eat whilst wrapped in emergency silver foil blankets.

This is not a disparaging report of the nursery. It was fantastic. It's just that next time I would like the temperature to be a little less Baltic.

Back at home we stayed indoors away from the wind and were joined by Bubbles and Bobyn for dinner. It was Bubbles' birthday on Sunday and this was a belated celebration of his 35th.

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* actually it was after about 3 minutes of wandering that I was hypothermic!

An Offering to the Hedgehog God

 I spent most of today on my hands and knees.

This wasn't a day of worship and offerings* at the alter of the great hedgehog spirit Ar 'n Tuith,  and my back wasn't playing up either.**

Instead, I returned to the overgrown path at the front of the cottage, the clearing of which, I started at the end of last month. Previously I had cleared the path as far of the front door and now I had another twenty, or so, feet to get to the end of the path by the well.

It is fair to say that it was a long job, but it now looks really good. The only slight annoyance is that I gave up as a result of fatigue at about six o'clock in the evening, leaving about one square yard left to clear. The completer / finisher in me really wanted to complete the job, but a sit down and a glass of red wine was just too persuasive.

Clearly my offerings to Ar 'n Tuith were not well received and my request for eternal stamina was ignored ... Well, bollocks to him, I'll try worshiping one of the Badger spirits instead!

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* Juicy beetles, probably.

** Although it may well be tomorrow.

If you build it ...

Prior to the fox attack last Summer, our chickens were housed in a decrepit old shed with an attached run.*  We took the decision to re-home the surviving birds and not to replace them until we had a more secure home for them. That was in February 2021 and I have already mentioned that 30% and I managed to dismantle and burn the old coop in the Autumn of last year. 

This left us with no chickens and no coop ... up until today!

30% has ordered a poultry ark and it should be with us in seven to ten days time.

She is already reaching out to suppliers of fertile eggs.

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* The shed was already in a decayed state when we moved to the cottage* in February 2021 and I recall that TP and his girlfriend spent the first morning up there with cable ties, hammers and other tools to make the crappy old shed almost habitable for poultry.

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.