Frank Skinner at The Warwick Arts Centre

If I'm honest I achieved very little today.

First activity was to take Dog #4 aka The Rat up to the vets for her inoculations. All went well until the vet checked her teeth and advised that she badly needed her teeth descaled. This will involve a full anaesthetic and a bill in excess of £200. The surprising thing about this is that she has the same diet as the other dogs and their teeth are in beautiful condition. Apparently "some dogs get tartar, others don't" and The Rat is one of those that do. An appointment was made and she'll be descaled in early December.

On our return the dull, grey and damp weather did not encourage me to venture far from the house, but  I did make it as far as the veg patch, where I dug up three celeriac plants. I got as far as washing off the earth and removing the leaves and fine roots, before abandoning them in the utility room and finding something far less muddy to keep me occupied.

I finally settled on a novel, that I had started to re-read a good while back, but had abandoned as soon as the day length increased and the weather had improved in the Spring. This kept me amused and occupied until it was time to head over to the Warwick Arts Centre for the third time in the past three weeks.

This evening's performance was a stand up set by Frank Skinner and it was great.  I can't think of any particular joke or anecdote that stood out, but he has been performing live for over thirty five years and he showed a consummate ability to feed off the audience and ad lib at the drop of a hat.

We had a brilliant evening, filled with laugh out loud moments.  Some might say that his narrative might lack sophistication or structure. I just say he was bloody funny!

Of course I want typhoid!

 Now that might seem like an odd title for today's Journal entry, but all will become apparent.

30% had arranged a for us to attend a joint appointment at our local surgery for our travel inoculations. Nursey Sue went through our vaccination records and advised that 30% needed a tetanus jab and that I was up to date with all of the vaccines recommended for Egypt.

She then went on to point out that there were a few optional jabs including Hepatitis B, rabies and typhoid. Now Hep B is transmitted by exposure to bodily fluids and neither of us were planning to have a tattoo, inject intravenous drugs or come in to contact with another man's semen, so not much chance of us getting that. As for rabies, just don't stroke any cats or dogs, particularly the ones that look a bit mangy and are frothing at the mouth. 

Now we come to typhoid, it is spread through contaminated food or water. Funnily enough we both plan on eating and drinking while we are away in Egypt. We are both aware of the risks of typhoid and know that we should only drink bottled water, peel fruit, avoid street food etc. However, there is always a risk that you are going to eat something a bit iffy* and I really don't fancy going down with typhoid.  I know I could do with loosing a bit of weight, but I really don't fancy the typhoid method.

So when Nursey Sue asked me "do you want typhoid", you know what I replied.

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* I was going to make an off colour joke about waiters with shit under their fingernails, but I do have standards.

Garden Tidying

 The tomato crop has dwindled over the past few weeks and this morning I headed out to the greenhouse to pick the last of them.

After about twenty minutes I had gathered over a kilo of cherry tomatoes. Many of these had split, but that wasn't a problem as the rest of the morning was spent converting these to a batch of tomato soup. We had some with our lunch and the remainder was bagged and frozen for consumption at a later date.

Having picked the tomato plants relatively clean, I returned to the greenhouse in the afternoon and removed the withering vines. I then spent a happy hour on my hands and knees weeding and picking up any dropped fruit. 

As I weeded I saw movement in my peripheral vision and I focussed on this little fellow lurking in the corner of the greenhouse.

Who are you calling common?*

It is lovely to see wildlife in the garden, especially amphibians. We regularly see toads and have also seen the occasional frog and newt.  Their presence is quite surprising as the nearest ponds are at least 150 yards away from the house.

After finishing in the greenhouse I continued tidying in the veg patch. The pea netting was removed** and I took out the last of the runner bean plants. 30% was busy too, cutting back the perennials in the bed in the back garden.

By the end of the day 30% and I had managed to completely fill our two brown wheelie bins (garden waste). 

That's just about it for Wednesday apart from me finally submitting my tax return. I now wait for a rather nice rebate in the near future.

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* European or Common Toad (Bufo bufo)

** The pea crop didn't do well. I don't know whether it was because they were planted late or some other reason? I don't think I will grow them again as they take up a lot of space for a fairly small crop and, I'm afraid to say, frozen peas are really good.

Autumn Leaves

There is a very large Ash tree standing by the gate to the lane. It is quite the magnificent specimen and I would estimate that it is easily 130 years old.*

It is now the time of year when it drops its leaves and the drive is covered with them. Normally I would leave them until the last of the leaves have fallen before I collect them up, but the weather is dry and I would much rather sweep up dry leaves than soggy, wet ones. 

So, a couple of hours were spent sweeping up the leaves. These were then deposited in a couple of mesh lined crates up in the orchard. I prepared these back in June with the aim of producing leaf mould for use in the garden. I guess I will now need to wait a year or two to see how this experiment turns out.

The realist in me was also resigned to the fact that the drive would be covered in leaves again tomorrow.

In other news; I tweaked my tax return at the suggestion of my FA and I also dug up the last of my second crop potatoes. The tops on them have died off in the past week and I wanted to get them out of the ground before it gets too wet. The variety was Maris Peer and the crop was reasonable. The earth was washed off prior to them being stored in a cool dark place. However, I am fairly certain they will get eaten before there is any risk of them going green or rotting.

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* I knew that degree in Biological Sciences would come in useful. One nugget I recall is that you can estimate the approximate age of a tree by measuring its girth at chest height; 1" of girth equates to one year of age.

Busy doing nothing

Today was one of those days when I seemed to be occupied for most of the day, but, in retrospect, I didn't seem to have achieved much.

The roofers arrived early this morning.  The chimney at the rear of the cottage has been redundant, since we removed the old Stanley oil fired range* back in 2021 and today was the day for its flue to be removed. 

I am pretty sure that I have mentioned that we have had a number of leaks associated with this chimney and, after three or four attempts to prevent them, we decided to just have the damned thing removed. Our roofer said it was for the best. Apparently chimneys are notorious for leaks and if you don't need them, you are better to have them removed.

Anyway, back to the narrative ... The roofers arrived nice and early and blocked the drive with their flat bed wagon. This was no problem and it simply meant that I had an early morning walk down to the local surgery to pick up a prescription.

Once home I returned to my lamp project and finally assembled the components and plugged it in.

Of course it's been wired
by a qualified electrician

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* I'm not a fan of Range Cookers, but was amazed at how many people expected us to install an Aga or Rayburn in place of the festering Stanley Range that lurked in the corner of the kitchen grumbling and burping out the occasional waft of heating oil. Allegedly it provided hot water, central heating and cooking facilities. In practice it seemed to do none of these particularly well. This was evidenced by the fact that the previous owners of the cottage had an electric cooker sat alongside it and the cooker had seen a lot of use.

Basically Range Cookers are pretty much obsolete, they belong to a long gone age when women were at home all day and slow cooked brown, tasteless food on these inefficient monsters. Tastes have changes and I mean in both fashion and palate. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good slow cooked stew as much as the next man, but I'll cook it in a 100 watt slow cooker rather than a Range that is burning several litres of fuel oil an hour.

We've got more sense that to spend thousands of pounds on an Aga and then moan about the running costs ... I've met people who have. And our kitchen isn't big enough to have a Range for show and then a proper modern hob and ovens to actually cook on and in.

I've just realised that this is an incredibly long footnote, but "Hey, there you go". 

In summary; we had the manky Stanley Range ripped out in the Spring of 2021, and replaced it with a modern, efficient Worcester Bosch oil fired Combi Boiler, an electric induction hob and an oven. Our house is now warm, we have hot water on demand, we can cook anything we fancy and our oil usage has plummeted.

10cc ?

Or, perhaps more accurately, today's entry should be entitled 2.5cc.

This evening 30% and I headed over to the Warwick Arts Centre to see a performance by 10cc. Anyone of a certain age is likely to recall the Stewart, Goldman, Godley and Creme lineup. However we were well aware that Godley & Creme quit the band years ago, so we had performed a pre-event Google to find out exactly who we were going to see.

The current touring lineup still includes Graham Gouldman plus a supporting cast, several of whom have been touring with the group since the 1970s.

I must admit to being dubious about a rock show where the most of the band were in their 70's and Gouldman is a couple of years off his eightieth birthday. I should not have been such a cynic. The show was absolutely brilliant, delivering the distinctive sound and arrangements that were true to the original releases. We both absolutely loved the show and there were no disappointments with the set list. It included many of their singles including I'm not in love, Wall Street Shuffle, Dreadlock Holiday and an a cappella version of Donna was featured as an encore.

At this point I will give a brief mention to the support act, a solo guitarist going by the name of Seb Wesson. He was fucking awful. He could play well enough, but he made us endure twenty five minutes of self-penned monotony that made the listener want to slit their wrists. It was truly dreadful and I am struggling to understand why he was picked for the tour ... he must have been cheap.  In summary; I've heard better buskers.

In other news, I had a fairly easy day. The morning was spent pottering in the garden where I mowed the verges that border the cottage, took a short walk with the dogs and cleaned the stagnant mess that had accumulated in bottom of one of the garden water butts over the Summer. It was during this task that I think I may have discovered the entrance to Hades.

Obviously cleaning out the stagnant mess involved dumping several buckets of water and sludge. I decided to empty them at the base of one of the boundary hedges and as I poured water from the first bucket I noticed a slit in the ground leading to an obvious void. The slit was about eighteen inches long by about five inches wide and it was very easy to pour the water in to it.  The noise the water made as it entered the void made it clear that the space under ground was large.

My deductive powers reasoned that I had clearly found an entrance to the underworld and I looked diligently for either Cerberus or Orcs and Goblins. I found none of these creatures, but today is Sunday and it might have been their day off. 

Alternatively I may have just located the mythical overflow pipe that runs from our septic tank across the pasture next door.

Another tube of eye drops

This morning we headed in to Alcester to visit the opticians. 30% needed to pick up her new spectacles and I needed a short consultation with the Optician.

For the past three weeks I have been treating my eyes daily with steroid eye drops.  The Specialist who prescribed them had made clear that I needed to be referred to a Cornea clinic if the condition had not significantly improved. My eyes are still not great hence today's consultation.

The Optician agreed to make the referral and we both left as satisfied customers. 30% was particularly satisfied as she negotiated a very good deal on a new pair of prescription sunglasses. All I got was some greasy gunk to smear on my eyelids before I go to bed each night.

We then popped in to see Dot 'n Dave and spent a lovely hour catching up on their news before heading home.

My afternoon was focussed on projects and the garden. My lamp base was given another coat of Danish oil and I then exhausted myself by dragging the beast from the shed and spending a taxing ninety minutes mowing the rough grass in the orchard.

If it's not getting stuck in one of the many ruts and dips, it gets lodged on windfall cooking apples. It is a real struggle but well worth it. In my mind's eye I can still see the overgrown and cluttered mess that the orchard was. It is still far from perfect, but it is so much better.

What hell is this?

Having audited and conditioned my shoe collection earlier in the week, this morning found me headed over to our nearest IKEA store in Wednesbury.

IKEA stock some rather good shoe racks. They are quite utilitarian, but perfect for my four pairs of shoes and some other footwear that we really don't need to count or discuss here.* 

After struggling with their less than user friendly web portal, I eventually managed to get the racks ordered and paid for. And this morning found me trundling up the M5 to Wednesbury to collect them.

I found the store and encountered signposting that was, shall we say, somewhat erratic! I eventually located the click 'n collect car park having performed a circuit of the store grounds. It appears that one either needs to be telepathic or be one of those maze solving rats to find the direct route to the goods collection point.

I really should have thought about this. Anyone who has visited an IKEA store is familiar with it's maze like layout and the fact that, once you enter the store, you have committed yourself to a soul destroying traipse around this plasticky retail labyrinth.** 

Apparently they have developed this retail concept further and now apply it to the layout of their carparks too.

Anyway, back to the narrative, the click 'n collect process worked well and a nice chap was soon placing the racks in the back of the Defender. That was when I made a bad decision ... 30% suggested that I pop in to the store and have a look at the houseplants and perhaps see if they have a nice Edison squirrel cage type light bulb for my lap project. I did this and instantly regretted my decision. 

I wasn't in there that long, but it was just so grim; a maze of identical, cheaply produced stuff that you buy to make your house look exactly like your neighbours.  Don't get me wrong; IKEA does have the occasional nugget. A little household gem that you really do need, but on the whole their product lines are unexceptional.

It really is the death of individuality.

Right! Rant over, in other news after a morning of retail hell, I managed to get the lawns at the front of the house mowed in the early afternoon and made some progress on my lamp project. The wooden base has now been sanded smooth and the first coat of Danish oil has been applied.

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* I forgot to mention my scabby gardening boots in Wednesday's Journal entry. Mind you, boots are definitely not shoes.

** I swear we bumped in to Theseus the last time we visited and I'm sure some of the customers had a touch of the minotaur in their genetics too.

Sorting out the drainage in the lower field*

A while back I'm fairly certain that I mentioned that we had arranged for a drainage contractor to come in and improve the very basic ditch that attempts to cope with the rain that runs off the large arable field upslope of the cottage.

Well, after several delays, he finally turned up about a fortnight ago, advised that the ground was now far too wet and that his excavator would totally trash the garden. Basically we would have to suck it up until the garden dried out a bit, or we had a very heavy frost.

It is fair to say that we were somewhat annoyed pissed off by the situation a) because the delays were caused by the contractor, not us and b) because we made crystal fucking clear just how wet the garden became once the Autumn rains arrived.

As I thought more about the work he proposed to do, I became less convinced by his drainage solution, so we called in another local company to have a look, let us know their proposals and give us a price. This morning the company representative arrived and I talked him through the draining and damp issues we were experiencing and felt much more comfortable with his proposal.

For example, I asked about when they would be able to perform the work as the ground could get very wet and could end up looking like The Somme. I was reassured that they will use mini diggers and ground mats to prevent that very problem. He also confirmed that his equipment will be able to access the orchard via the gate rather than having to smash its way through the hedge.

We're waiting to see what their quote looks like, but am almost certain that Contractor A will be told we no longer require his services.

In other news, Hobson and Whiffler spent their day at the dog groomers and arrived home looking absolutely splendid.  The recent spell of mild, rain free weather has dried out the grass and I was able to spend a merry hour mowing the lawns at the rear of the cottage. I also managed to make a start on a little project in the workshop.**.  30% has got us booked in at the local surgery for our travel vaccinations and our neighbour's son has agreed to look after the chickens while we are in Egypt ... it's all coming together!

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* "Oh, if you could Ted ... yes, thank you.  Do you like Tina Turner, Ted?"

** A rather fine piece of rustic elm is being transformed in to a lamp

The answer is four pairs

 The day started with me continuing the archeological excavation of the bottom of the wardrobe.

I did not find the secret door to Narnia, but I did find footwear that I'd forgotten I owned,* and that hadn't been worn in many, many years.

They were all dusted down and the rest of the day was spent giving them a coat of polish, or the appropriate treatments for suede and waxed leather.

At the end I took stock and accurately reported to 30% that I only have four pairs of shoes.  She witnessed the array of footwear spread across the bedroom floor and spluttered something along the lines of "this is verging on ridiculous, you are not buying anymore bloody shoes"! 

I suppose the twelve pairs of boots, two pairs of sandals and the new pair of Josef Siebel mules might be what pushed her to this irrational response.

It's probably a good job I didn't point out the two pairs of Wellingtons and the Sidi motorcycle boots that hadn't been included in this audit of my footwear collection.

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* The suede desert boots, the sandals and the loafers will be useful for the upcoming Aswan trip.

How many pairs?

 I decided that I deserved another lazy day, so don't be expecting anything at all from today's entry.

Basically it was a masterclass in unproductive pottering. I managed to effectively fill an entire day with virtually nothing to show for it all. That, I suppose, is an achievement in itself.

It has been a few weeks since I last walked the Three Miler with Bobbyn and, today, we finally got our collective acts together and managed to walk the dogs. B has taken this week off work, so we walked in the late morning and then lunched together. 

After B's departure 30% and I decided that a snooze was in order and a sizeable chunk of the early afternoon was consumed by that activity.

I then decided that doing nothing is quite challenging and looked for a something productive to do. I had recently cleaned my walking boots and today's walk down the filthy lanes had left them looking like they hadn't been cleaned in weeks. I therefore decided that I would dig out all of my shoes and give them a polish.

Unfortunately I had forgotten how many pairs of shoes and boots I own.* This is going to take a day or two to complete.

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* I love buying shoes. I am a shoe addict. 30% and I think it is possibly because they offer instant gratification. Let me explain; I have an odd body shape and trousers always need to be shortened and I prefer to buy custom shirts that have a shorter sleeve length, rather than off the peg items. The result is that  there is always a delay between buying trousers or shirts and actually being able to wear them. Shoes, however, are a different matter all together. I buy them and can wear them straight away ... basically instant retail gratification.

Sods Law

You really could not make this up!

After weeks of hard work on the hedges, we looked out this morning and saw a tractor pull up at the gate to the neighbouring pasture. Within minutes it was trundling around the field boundaries beating the overgrown hedges into submission with a flail cutter.

As is says in title of today's entry; "Sods Law!"

Now I appreciate that we would still have had a huge amount of work to do, but if the hedge cutting contractor had turned up at the beginning of the month he would have taken the top out of about 75 yards of hedging that borders our gardens ... That is not an insignificant amount.

Ho hum, I'll take an optimistic perspective on this and note that the hedging contractor has removed the few, but irritating out-of-reach stems that I had not been able to cut. The job is finally finished.

In other news; Dog #4 aka The Rat was taken for a follow-up appointment at the Vet's. She is fine and can return to being her normal self.* Interestingly the vet suggested that a dose of paracetamol** could be administered if her back injury flares up again.

As for me, I did very little for the rest of the day. The past few weeks have been quite intensive and we both felt that we deserved a rest.

30% took this to extremes by booking a holiday and I can report that we will be spending a week in Aswan later on in November. I cannot wait.

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* That being, spending all day snoozing on a bed and then leaping around like a pig on springs when there seems to be a chance of a walk.

** One half of a 500mg tablet for a dog her size. 

Finished!

We've finally finished cutting the hedges. Well, for this year anyway!

No home should be without one

For the past two days I have been mostly stood at the business end of this little monster, feeding it the huge amount of brash that we had accumulated in the orchard and garden. 

brash, in British English, noun.  loose rubbish, such as broken rock, hedge clippings, etc; debris 

30% and I finally finished early on Sunday afternoon and the pumpkin patch is now home to an enormous pile of shredded wood, leaves and stems.

We started work on the hedges at the beginning of the month and have been hard at every day, except when it was pissing down with rain, or a family funeral needed to be attended. I've already mentioned that the hedges hadn't been cut for at least two years and needed at leat 6' of material taking off the top of them. 

We have dealt with branches up to 4" in diameter and covered with evil spines that are 2" long. As for the brambles, don't mention the brambles! They were twisting, branching stems up to 20' long with thorns that snag and grab at everything; your arms, your legs. They do their best to hinder every attempt to cut them, gather them and feed them in to the shredder. It almost became a vendetta to deal with the bloody things!

Our hands and legs are scratched and, despite gloves, splinter removal became a nightly occupation, but we have finally finished. 250 yards of agricultural hedging has been tamed and shredded.

This evening we celebrated this massive achievement with a Chinese takeaway. as neither of us had the energy to cook.

It's been a busy couple of days ...

and I don't expect the weekend to be any quieter.

Let me explain. Having finished the hedge cutting, I spent Thursday morning tidying up my workshop. It had become a dumping ground for hedge cutters, chargers and fuel cans and these were put away.

I then headed over to Bromsgrove to pick up poultry food and wood shavings from the agricultural supplies store  and then on to the Industrial Estate, where I collected a couple of oil filled heaters. 

One of the bedrooms in the cottage has a fitted wardrobe that can become a little damp during the Winter months. We hatched a plan to install a couple of low wattage, oil filled heaters to see whether that helped alleviate the issue.

It will be no surprise that the afternoon was spent installing the two heaters.

Moving on to Friday, I headed in to Redditch straight after breakfast and picked up a few electrical supplies from the DIY store. On my return I headed back to the bedroom and spent a couple of hours sorting out the electrical supply for the two heaters ... let's hope they work.

In the early afternoon the local hire company's delivery driver arrived with the shredder. We have hired it for the weekend and hope to deal with the huge piles of hedge cuttings* that currently decorate the property.  The driver gave me a comprehensive walk through of the machine. It is a tracked, self propelled machine capable of, allegedly, dealing with branched up to 3" in diameter. If it is as good as it is described, it will be perfect for the material we need to shred and the fact that it will need to be manoeuvred up in to the orchard.

30% and I then spent the next couple of hours working through the first pile of cuttings and familiarising ourselves with the shredder. It seems to work well and, at the end of our first session, we filled a builder's bulk bag. Allegedly this is close to a cubic metre of mulched material for use in the garden next year.

As the light started to fade we headed indoors and got ourselves clean and tidy. We had arranged to meet up with a few members of the coven for a Thai buffet at one of the local pubs ... I really wish that we hadn't bothered. The food was average at best, not particularly warm and the group at the next table were so loud that we couldn't hear each other speak.

A group decision was made not to linger at the pub, so we were home before nine o'clock and asleep not long after that. As I said in the first line of today's entry "I don't expect the weekend to be any quieter".

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* I was going to use the word "trimmings" here, but that doesn't describe 6' to 8' long branches that are easily wrist sized at the thick end and covered in evil thorns!

I'm not planning anything beyond Thursday

I opened my underwear drawer this morning and there were only two pairs of underpants remaining. Normally this drawer is crammed with them, so I am taking this as an ominous portent. Clearly I will not be needing pants* after tomorrow, hence the title of today's Journal entry.

This morning started with a trip in to Alcester to drop off a jar of honey and a pack of home cured bacon for Nelson at the bakery. I received a freshly baked sausage roll in exchange and walked away thinking that he had got the better part of that deal. 

On the way home I filled up a can of petrol at the local petrol station, as this was needed to fuel the long-reach hedge cutter.

Back at home, I mixed up a litre of 40:1 two stroke mix fuel and refilled the hedge cutter. The rest of the day was spent up in the orchard, where I finally finished the last length of hedge.

There may be a couple of hard-to-reach twigs that still need lopping, but we can now see out in all directions.

As I have now finished this monumental task I wonder if I am now surplus to requirements ... hence the empty underwear drawer.

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* or anything else that is essential to life, such as air, water, comestibles, a well organised workshop and so on ...

The end is in sight

 It was another day of hedge cutting, but, as it says in the title of today's Journal entry, "the end is in sight". 

The final length of hedge is up in the orchard, bordering the upslope, arable field and is about thirty five yards long. It is mostly hawthorn with the occasional elder, holly and ash tree and, like all of the other boundary hedges, hasn't been cut for a couple of years.

It needed a good five or six feet taken out of the top of it and, using a short ladder, loppers and the long reach hedge cutter, I have completed about two thirds of it and I plan to finish it tomorrow.

Obviously our pile of brash grow bigger daily and 30% has arranged the hire of a wood chipper for the upcoming weekend to deal with it.  So no prizes for guessing what Saturday and Sunday's entries will be about.

The only other thing to report is that we spent the evening meeting a lady who boards dogs.  We both quite fancy a few days of Winter sun and, obviously, the dogs will need to be looked after while we are away.* The meeting went well and Whiffler, Hobson and The Rat all got on well with her dogs. 

All we need to do now is fill out her forms and find out when she has availability for them.

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* The chickens will too, but that is relatively easy. I am fairly sure that the son of one of our neighbours will do that for a few quid.

Quote for the day

"I think I have had near fatal vegetable poisoning. That's my third visit to intensive care this morning!"

First thing this morning Dog#4 was taken in to the Vets. She developed severe stress symptoms yesterday evening and was not a happy girl. The vets think that she has hurt her back and we came home with enough sedatives and painkillers to calm an enraged Kodiak bear. 

This is an ongoing problem with The Rat, as these symptoms tend to flare up every couple of months. Normally they subside within a few hours, but this is one of the worst occasions. Fortunately she is now resting relatively peacefully* on one of the beds.

I spent the rest of the day hedge cutting and can report that the best view on the house has now been restored. This involved trespassing in to the neighbouring fields with my long reach hedge cutter, and taking out the growth that could not be reached from our property.

I've included a snap. It's not a great picture, but it shows the simple but lovely view.

Clean windows would have improved it!

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* Or, more likely, is off her tits on doggy painkillers and is dreaming of God knows what!

Nothing, nada, zilch

 There is nothing to see here.

After a hectic and emotionally draining week I did very little today. Vegetables were dug from the garden for dinner and I assisted 30% by rolling and timing a stuffed breast of lamb joint.

I made a minor modification to a little stand that supports one of the poultry drinkers and that is just about it.

Back on the hedges tomorrow ... sad face emoji!

I know I've lapsed again ...

but I've had one hell of a week!

For Christ's Sake, I've cremated my father, attended his younger sister's funeral and wake, been to two gigs and lost a dear friend. I think it's fair to say that we have had a fair amount of shit to deal with over the past few days.

I'll now attempt to fill in a few gaps and get back on track.

Wednesday, 16th October, 2024

I know that I've already covered Wednesday's events but I also managed to complete the first draft of my tax return.  For some reason I procrastinate for months and then, when I finally get my act together, it is far more straightforward than I expect it to be. The draft has been now forwarded to our "chap"* for his approval before I submit it to my former employer HM Revenue & Customs.**

We also and an "intimate evening with Martin Fry" at the Palace Theatre Redditch. For those of you who are unfamiliar with 1980's pop, Martin was the lead singer with ABC and he was touring to promote a recently written autobiography. The evening was a mix of conversation and acoustic versions of some of his hits. It was interesting to find out more about the man and band and his voice is still good. The only observation I would make is that ABC's music was known for it's huge orchestral arrangements and Trevor Horn's production. Acoustic versions are always going to sound a little lacking.

I bought ABC's Lexicon of Love when it was first released back in the 1980s. I still have the vinyl LP and a CD version too. The songs have been part of my life's soundscape for the past forty years and several of them are present on my current MP4 playlists.

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* Our chap is our Financial Advisor. In the final stages of my employment with the Neat & Tidy Piano Movers I discovered that my employer would part-finance the engagement of a Financial Advisor. A very good friend recommended a firm that they had used for many years and we made the call. That was back in April 2023 and we have been amazed at the services they have provided. One of the best days of my life was when we had a consultation after their initial analysis of our finances and expenditure. They simply advised "You don't need to work any more, Badman"

** I was employed by the Inland Revenue SFO from October 1987 through until December 1998. SFO sounds exciting; Serious Fraud Office? Nope, it was the Superannuation Funds Office back in 1987. It was forced to change its name to the Pension Schemes Office so that the Serious Fraud Office could use the acronym ... true story!

Thursday, 17th October, 2024

The plan for today was to take it easy,

I managed to stick with that for about an hour and then headed out to the garden to attack the hedge that borders the arable field upslope of the cottage. The local farmer's hedging contractor had failed to cut the hedges bordering the property and the best view from the house* is becoming obscured by 14' of hawthorn. The farmer indicated that he would get the contractor to return and finish the job, but I doubt the hedge will be cut until Autumn, next year.

I therefore assembled tools and ladders and started to hack a good six or seven feet off the top of the hedge. I still have plenty more to do, but was pleased with the improvement.

The reason for attempting to have a lazy day was that we were out at Warwick Arts Centre this evening. Rhod Gilbert was performing his Rhod Gilbert & the Giant Grapefruit tour and we were joined by Bubbles and Bobbyn.

Rhod's set was based on his recent experiences with head and neck cancer and it was brilliant. It was both hysterical and touching and delivered at an almost manic pace. We loved it and it was definitely needed after the stresses of Tuesday and Wednesday.

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* The best view from the house: This is debatable, but a prime contender is the view when sat on the lavatory in the bathroom.  The view is over an arable field that is uphill of the cottage. The local geography is such that the horizon is only about 150 yards distant. The view is therefore very simple, but very effective. The foreground is a single field that varies from rich brown earth in the late Autumn, fresh green shoots in the Spring and then, as Summer comes, the strident yellow of oil seed rape or, slightly later, wheat and barley turning a dusty gold before harvest. The skyline is punctuated by the silhouettes of a few overgrown hawthorns and all of this is surmounted by the ever-changing sky. The view is eastward, so each morning it is lit by the rising sun and the rising moon greets us in the evening.

Friday, 18th October, 2024

Today was the funeral of my aunt. I'm not one for football analogies, but it felt like a friendly match after the intensity of Tuesday.

Polite conversations were enjoyed at the wake and we used the dogs as an excuse to make our way home midway through the afternoon.

As I reflect on the past week I do wonder if I will encounter any of my family again. This is not as sad as it seems. Over the years we have drifted away and formed new bonds and friendship groups. I have my own family and no problems filling my time. I don't think I miss them. In fact, the thought of being with them quite unsettles me. I wonder if it because they seem to think they have the right to openly judge?

On the subject of new bonds and friendships, we spent the evening with B&H. One might think that a quiet night in might be prescribed after this week, but it was exactly what the doctor ordered. H had cooked a simple, but splendid dinner and we enjoyed laughs and wine with caring and unpretentious company. They are treasured friends.

Saturday, 19th October, 2024

A couple of weeks ago 30% informed me that I was to attend a baking course at the Butter Street Bakery in Alcester.

Basically it was originally a gift for TP,* but his work schedule had not allowed him to attend, so I was his substitute. In all honesty, I didn't really want to go and felt almost coerced to attend. However it was a fun day and Nelson was a charming and lively instructor.

Some of the baking was done in pairs and other items were made individually. I came away having baked a small white loaf, a brioche loaf, a focaccia, a couple of croissants, four pain au chocolat and a couple of cruffins. 

The Defender smelt divine on the journey home.

30% had made chilli con carne for dinner and the olive and sage focaccia was the perfect accompliment.

The other big new for today was that 30% had managed to sell the nine young chickens. We are now a hundred quid better off and only have the birds up in the orchard coop to care for. 

I plan to do nothing tomorrow, apart from letting the chickens out and feeding them!

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* TP is my son; The Progeny and 30% is my wife and better half. I'm not sure why she has become 30%, but, as I have grown to know her over the years, one explanation could be that it is the amount of any task that remains unfinished. She is not a completer/finisher!

A thought on yesterday's funeral

Yesterday's funeral was as is to be expected. Somber expressions, polite smiles, generally dark attire, and positive thoughts and memories about the recently departed.

I am embarrassed to admit that I easily recognised Paul and Carol, my Father's neighbours, but totally failed to identify my second cousin; Judith and friend from my teen years; Winnet.*  Fortunately they were both very kind, saw my lack of recognition and saved any further embarrassment by introducing themselves.

One recurring conversation throughout yesterday was that everyone I spoke to said that there was no mistaking who my Father was and that I was his spitting image.

I'm not really sure how to take this, as I was being repeatedly told that I looked very much like the ninety two year old, lying in an oak coffin at the front of the crematorium!

Only the other day a young lady at the Ophthalmology clinic commented that I didn't look sixty. Fuck me I must have aged in the past few days!

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* This is clearly not her real name, but a cruel nickname assigned to her nearly forty five years ago.  It is a corruption of her surname and has a most unpleasant meaning in these parts. We all found it hysterical at the time and it's still mildly amusing now.