You can't have too many tealights

 ... or, perhaps you can!

The recent spell of warm dry weather meant that the lawns looked a little straggly and, having procrastinated for the latter half of the week, I finally dragged the ailing porn mower* from the shed and attended to all but the front lawn. I'm glad I did, as the transformation made the effort worthwhile.

Having attended to the garden, 30% and I lunched and tidied ourselves up for a trip over to The Regal in Evesham to see Susie Dent present her Secret Life of Words lecture.

I hadn't been to The Regal for the best part of forty years and it has benefited from refurbishment and a reimagining and now hosts a variety of entertainments from films through to live performances. The seating is now comfortable and well spaced and food and drink are now delivered to your seat.  It is a really pleasant venue and I was very impressed by the whole experience.

Susie's performance was relaxed, informative and amusing and I thoroughly enjoyed it. As someone who has, perhaps, slightly more than a passing interest in words** I was familiar with much of her narrative, but I had a great afternoon relaxing with a large gin and tonic listening to well presented, interesting stuff. 

On the way out of Evesham we popped in to a supermarket to pick up a couple of essentials and one of these was a packet of tealights.  One might wonder why I regarded tealights as essentials and I have to report that this is massive and recent change in my perspective.

Warning! There now follows a rambling and, probably, uninteresting tale ... 

For almost all of the time that 30% and I lived at The Pile*** there was a Tesco carrier bag hung on a hook on the right as one descended the stairs to the cellar.  In that bag were many tealights and I cannot recall a single occasion when one was removed from the bag and lit. The fact that we had so many of the damned things and never bloody used them was a running joke in the family, as was the decision to throw them out when we did the pre-move clear out in the Autumn and Winter of 2020.

Well! Today I finally needed a tealight as my new cold smoking tray was scheduled for delivery. The cold smoking tray is filled with sawdust and a tea light is used to light it. I was keen to get the recently cured bacon smoked hence the elevation of the humble tealight to an essential item. The irony of the disposal of a couple of hundred of them after fifteen years was not lost on the two of us.

A pack of fifty was the smallest quantity available and these were added to our shopping basket. Back at home I eagerly opened up the new cold smoking tray and read through the instructions. I quickly learnt that the tealight is only lit for about two or three minutes to get the sawdust burning and also that a tealight was provided.

We now estimate that I will be able to smoke foodstuffs on a daily basis until I pop my clogs and I will still not run out of tealights.

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* It's really not sounding healthy now

** Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson is a good introduction to the madness that is the English Language.

*** September 2004 to February 2021

Post Script: The new cold smoker worked beautifully on its first trial and the slab of streaky bacon is now hung bathed in smoke in my little tea chest smoker.

Nothing to see here

 It was another quiet day today.

30% headed out to the hairdresser early, and then on in to Worcester to pick up eye drops from the clinic.  While she was out I grabbed a hoe* and headed out to the garden. I spent some time on the many weeds making an appearance in the veg patch, before heading out around the Three Miler with the dogs.

My return coincided with that of 30% and both of us were starving, so lunch was taken early. I had planned a long snooze on the sofa, but this needed to be abandoned when a member of the coven arrived.  I was required to remove a large clump of plants from the large perennial border at the back of the house and transport them to the back of her car.  This was mutually beneficial as "P" is keen to increase her plant stock and we have plans for this area of the bed. There is a repeat flowing geranium and a "Yellow Popsicle" Kniphofia that are currently sat in pots in the holding area. They will look lovely there.  

Before I could even consider planting, I needed to fill the large hole left after removing the plants. This involved a couple of trips to the orchard to collect topsoil and a few mole hills. Mole hill soil is a beautiful loam heaped up as the they work their way underneath the orchard. It was well worth collecting and adding to the soil in the bed.

That was my day, other than an hour of watering and feeding the plants in the greenhouses and vegetable patch. 

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* Sharp bladed garden instrument for removal of weeds, not a lady of ill-repute sex worker**

** Reviewed and edited by the Thought Police

Meh!

 I definitely peaked way too early today and then started a generally downward slide. As it says in the title of today's entry; Meh!

Yesterday 30% blagged a free pallet from the driver who delivered our new poultry ark.  They are a pain in the arse to dismantle,* but they are a supply of free softwood,** so I set to with a hammer and crowbar and spent a merry hour dismantling it.  It produced some reasonable timber and the few split pieces will serve as kindling come the Autumn. We may need a trellis to support the rose and the honeysuckle that have been planted up against Rose Cottage, so that may well be its new purpose.

Having dismantled the pallet, I breakfasted and then seemed to spend the rest of the day attempting to get my smoker to work.  I failed miserably and, in the end, bit the bullet and ordered a cold smoking tray on-line. These are a simple metal tray which is used to hold sawdust. The tray is constructed with a spiral path. One lights the sawdust at the outer end of the spiral and it smoulders slowly towards the centre over the next ten hours.  My current device is similar, but home made by Barbecue Dave. It has worked well in the past, but has always been a little temperamental, so we'll see how the new stuff works early next week.

Apart from watering the vegetable patch I did little else and was feeling somewhat frustrated and demotivated.  I have about twenty kilos of bacon to smoke and slice and am making no progress with this task at present.

I'm certain 30% was relieved when Mr Irritable headed out for an evening of fishing with Bubbles and Ben.  

This evening we were on the Avon at Fladbury and by half past six we were settled down on a large peg in search of barbel and chub.  It sounds so idyllic, but in reality it was an evening of snagged lines, lost rigs and virtually no bites. It is a good job that the conversation was witty and varied. The strong breeze became chilly as soon as the sun disappeared from view and we reeled in our lines a little after ten o'clock. The final score was zero fish caught,*** but I had a couple of half-hearted bites. When I checked my bait as we were packing up it was apparent that it had been well nibbled by a smaller fish, but it was clearly too small to take the 1" cube of garlic marinaded luncheon meat and associated hook.

Once again garlic flavoured bait seems to be the way forward as Bubbles and Bens' curry powder coated chunks were untouched.

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* Especially the removal of all the nails

**My little honey stand by the front gate is a testament to what can be done with a little creativity and a very strong aversion to getting in the car and heading over to B&Q.

*** This is not an unusual score

There's no smoke ...

Christ, It was hot today! It is fair to say that not a lot was achieved in the garden as a simple wander around the vegetable garden was enough to bring on heat induced fatigue.

The day started with a trip in to Bromsgrove for a check up at the dentist and a quick wander around the aisles of Morrisons. I then headed home* and attempted, key word attempted, to smoke the slab of cured belly pork that should, more accurately, now be called streaky bacon.

I set up my tea chest smoker and packed oak sawdust in to the little tray where it smoulders and produces wafts of smoke.  I lit it with a blow torch and blew on it to ensure that it was smouldering nicely, before placing it in the base of the smoking cabinet and closing the door.

After twenty or thirty minutes I checked and the ember had died and no smoke was being produced. I tried other batches of sawdust and even hickory pellets but nothing would take.  I must have attempted half a dozen time, but I couldn't get the damned thing to smoke.

It has worked perfectly on previous occasions, but not today. I gave up in the late afternoon, wondering whether the sawdust was damp and, like a drowning man clutching at straws, put a batch in a low oven to dry.

At this rate I'll be slicing green bacon rather than smoked.

It is fair to say that I was quite frustrated by the inability to get the smoker going and felt that I needed some sort of win. I therefore made preparations for Autumn by lining a couple of large wooden crates with chicken wire. These will be used to produce leaf mould later in the year. I transferred the crates up to the orchard and concealed them behind Rose Cottage. 

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* The large pallet in the car port did not escape my attention ... I guess the new poultry ark has arrived then. 

Thanks for sharing

Today was scorching, so apart from ensuring that the garden was watered little else was achieved. I will however report on this morning's social event.

After the hypothermic visit to Rowberry's Nursery a couple of weeks ago, 30% arranged that we should meet up with the Tweedys for brunch* and today was the day.

The weather was far better and I arrived closer to death due to the passage of time rather than the previous occasion where I was closer to death due to a crashing core temperature. In other words, I was much warmer and in a better frame of mind.

We joined the Tweedys for coffee and, Oh God I've got to say it again, brunch.** It was after a few mouthfuls that things started to go horribly wrong ...

Mrs Tweedy is an opinionated shrew at the best of times and today she decided to inform 30% and I that diabetes isn't really a disability and that we should consider ourselves lucky that it can be treated so effectively.

Now 30% are both Type 1 diabetics and Mrs Tweedy isn't. Our collective experiences of managing the condition over a combined ninety years are nothing when compared to the ignorant bitch's ill informed opinions.  I did challenge her views and she had the fucking temerity to attempt to maintain her argument.

Fortunately Mr Tweedy has far more sense and emotional intelligence and wisely suggested that she continue with her meal.

30% and I were both bloody incensed by this display of complete and utter ignorance and the brass necked attempt to maintain her position when challenged by two individuals with considerable personal experience of the condition.

She is an obnoxious, ignorant, know-nothing bitch with less social intelligence than a chimp that investigates its own turds.

Rant over ... for the moment!

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* Do you really need to ask whether I am a brunch person!  Do I look like a twat that wears sunglasses indoors, at night?  Do I refer to a group of aquaintances as "Guys"? No I do not and neither do I see the need to mess up my calorific intake by either adding an extra meal or partaking of my lunch an hour before normal. 

** I've just had a crawly flesh moment.

Domesticity

 I was out and about early this morning and had a lovely chat with an Uber driver that clearly had no idea that he should stop and give way to traffic that is already circulating the roundabout on the outskirts of Alcester ... the fucking moron just pulled out in front of me!

Anyway, I managed to avoid a collision and went on to "win at shopping".  It was one of those days when I wandered in to my local hardware store and they had exactly what I needed.  Let me explain, the plan for today was to prepare the cured pork loins for smoking. This would involve removing the loins from the vacuum bags, washing them off and patting them dry, before wrapping them in muslin and hanging them to air dry for a few days.

I needed something to ensure that they remain clean and not danced upon by any of my little insect chums, so what could I use?  After being guided to the location of cotton string, the helpful assistant suggested muslin squares. I doubted these would be big enough, but wandered over for a look. In passing my eye fell upon a roll of mutton cloth and the heavens opened and a choir of Angels sang. I grabbed a roll and was delighted that this was absolutely perfect. The mutton cloth is a seamless tube of soft cotton material that can be cut to length.  Its modern use is for polishing, but in the past it was used to cover sheep carcasses prior to them being butchered in to smaller cuts.

Delighted, I grabbed a roll and hurried home.  The rest of the morning was taken up with the cured loins and these are now hanging in the cool of the workshop dressed in their mutton cloth jackets.

The afternoon saw me mentally prepare for the next job by having a quick snooze on the sofa.  I then mixed up a batch of SBK Brush Killer and headed out to spray the nettles in the orchard.  It is not a job that I enjoy as it is very much a "painting the Forth Bridge" type of job. Despite spraying or brush cutting, the bloody things come back with a vengeance and the job repeats.

30% and I have decided that we need to get the ground in the orchard levelled so that we can get it seeded with a grass mixture. The levelling will allow us to use the ride-on mower up there and mowing will encourage a strong sward which will easily outcompete the nettles. The only problem is that the access to the orchard is a narrow gate and a mini digger is about the biggest device we can get up there. 30% has contacted a chap to come over and give us a quote.

I had enough SBK for three batches* of spray and I estimate that I covered about two third of the nettles. The rest of the bloody things can wait for a couple of days.  Hopefully the sprayed plants will have wilted by then and I'll have a better idea of what I have already treated ... fingers crossed.

Back in the garden I joined 30% on the patio and we watched the fledgeling dinosaurs on the feeders in the garden.  After an hour watching young thrushes, greenfinches, robins and great tits, I planted another short row of Spring onions and think that there may be signs of growth in the  3' row that I planted ten days ago.

It was now mid afternoon and, as I put the sprayer away, my eyes fell upon the Horticultural Club annual show signs that are currently sat in the car port. I've recounted the tale of my resignation from my role as co-chair, but the signs are likely to sit here until they need them to advertise the annual show in early September. Two of the signs have damaged posts, so I decided that I would fix the damned things and then I could walk past them without feeling a nagging of responsibility or obligation to repair them. It was a fairly straightforward job to cut and replace the posts from some timber that I had in store, and by six o'clock I was finished and sat in the evening sun with a glass of red wine.

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* 15 litres in total

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.