Mostly surrounded by people

Yep, the title pretty much sums up my weekend.

I'm "funny" about people. I am quite happy in my own company and can spend days alone without feeling lonely. 30% will be disappearing for a few days this coming week, as she is off for a Spa break with Jules. I have no problem with this. I will be quite happy pottering and preparing for our upcoming holiday.  However, I do enjoy company, it's just that I am very selective about the company I keep.

I am happy to meet new people, and some transition from acquaintance to friendship. The problem is when I have to spend meaningful time with people, who I would prefer to be acquaintances, but seem to have inadvertently managed to cross into the friendship camp.

Fundamentally, I am choosy about the company I keep and this weekend was spent with groups that definitely included family, friends and acquaintances.  Consequently my experience ranged from "enjoyable" to "kill me now".

Saturday morning started with a quick trip to the supermarket where we divided and conquered. 30% toured the aisles for essentials and I visited the bureau d'exchange and converted Stirling to dollars for our upcoming Egypt trip.

We then headed down the road to 30%'s brother's house. He and his wife had agreed to host a family get together to celebrate his and TP's recent birthdays. It was a pleasant enough few hours, but you know how it is with in-laws ... they have their own little in jokes and a strong tendency to start to talk about events and people that mean abso-fucking-lutely nothing unless you were present ... and I wasn't. 

There is also the undercurrent of tension resulting from the recent rounds of in-fighting and personal slights.  As a "non-family" member of this group I am either unable to participate or not permitted to voice an opinion. 

As a result I tend to sit on the periphery of these events, joining in when I can, but well aware that there is a Venn digram of them and us.  30% sits in the intersection.

So that was Saturday. Sunday was similar, but I think I sat in the larger Venn bubble.

It was time for mine and TP's annual pilgrimage to Motorcycle live at the NEC. This year we were joined by Bubbles, Bubbles' father-in-law; Steve and TP's mate; Charlie. 

We had a great day wandering around. The show was very busy and a group of five was never going to work. However sub-groups formed and re-formed throughout the day when we bumped in to each other. Bubbles is working his way through the labours of Hercules* more commonly known as the UK Motorcycle Test and this was his first experience of just what was on offer. He had a great day and now has a germ of an idea about what sort of bike might work for him.

As for me, I got to sit on the BMW R1250R and, hopefully, will be contacted in the near future for a test ride ... Mind you, the low seat version of the new R1300 GS would be tempting ... If I won the lottery!

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* Completing these is probably more straightforward than getting a bike license in the UK.

Opera, steam, teach ...

... They're all good words to start the daily Wordle puzzle.  The Wordle Witch had her favourites; opera was one of them, whilst I always preferred to pick a five letter word that related to a significant event from the preceding day ... mowed was often used!

Today wasn't great. It was the Wordle Witch's funeral. I have been to three funerals in the past month and I think this is the one that has affected me the most. I have already mentioned that WW was a ray of sunshine and always a delight to spend time with. At sixty four years of age, she has gone far too soon and she will be missed.

Both 30% and I have noted that we frequently think "Oh WW would like that", we expect to see her at a local event, or think about inviting her along to one of our upcoming excursions. And then there is the sad realisation that she is with us no more.

I completed today's wordle puzzle in three guesses; TACKY and thought "I wonder how many Lou would have got it in?" I know three is a damned good score, but I bet she would have done just as well, if not better.

We'll miss you Lou.

Mr Fix-it

 Today was not the busiest of days.

This morning I was called upon to fulfil one of my fatherly/husbandly duties. Apparently, upon becoming an adult in a relationship, I became responsible for the repair of anything my ham-fisted wife/progeny manage to break. 

Today 30% advised that she had managed to break her spectacles chain within two days of purchase. I took a look and, initially, was tempted to throw it straight in the bin. Basically the chain had snapped close to the end where it is attached to the arm of the glasses. The chain was incredibly fine and re-attaching it to the end was going to be challenging. I won't bore you with the detail, but I got creative with super glue reinforced with baking powder and was able to make a loop in the chain and bond it to itself.

30% was happy with the repair and I was able to slope off and spend the rest of the morning achieving absolutely nothing apart from scrutiny of the New Scientist website and cataloguing a couple of recent additions to my vintage Hornby Dublo collection.

The afternoon saw me slightly tinged with guilt after such a lazy morning, so I wandered out to the veg patch and laid a weed inhibiting membrane around three sides of the raised beds. This was then topped with a healthy layer of shredded bark and I must admit that it does now look rather tidy. I cannot complete the fourth side of the raid beds until I install the Victorian edging that we acquired  back in August.  That can wait until the weather is warmer and the ground is not so wet.

So that just about covers Thursday's activities apart from the confirmatory call from the drainage contractors ... They will be here on the ninth!

Insurance annoyance

 Wednesday morning wasn't particularly busy, but it was certainly productive. His Majesty's Inspectorate of Taxes have completed their review of my tax return, so I was able to submit a request for my rebate.  It is a reasonable sum, but I am pretty sure that it has already been spent on the upcoming drainage and paving work ... bugger!

I also carried out a quick motorcycle insurance comparison and then contacted my current insurer to ask them if they could do any better than this year's renewal quote.  As an aside they had decided to increase my premium by about 23% but offered no explanation for this.  After a very long wait they advised that they could make a reduction of about fourteen pounds on a four hundred and sixteen pound premium. I'm certain that it comes as no surprise that I politely, but firmly, declined to renew with them.

It looks like tomorrow morning will be spent on Insurance comparison sites working out the best deal.

In the afternoon I ventured out to the garden for a couple of hours. The verges were mowed and I swept up the last of the leaves from the Ash tree by the gate. As my leaf mould crates are full to the brim, I had a small bonfire to dispose of the last of the leaves.

The garden is looking quite tidy at the moment and far, far better than it did this time last year. I am, however, a little concerned that it will look like the Somme after our drainage contractors have completed their works.

Rodin's Kiss

The dry weather continues and, as a result, I was out in the garden again.

This morning I dug the last of the carrot crop from the smaller of the raised beds and discovered this homage to Rodin in vegetable form.

The Kiss

I then spent a merry hour hand weeding both the beds and the path around them before applying a manure mulch to the smaller bed.*

In the afternoon I dragged the Beast from its lair and mowed the lawns at the front of the cottage. The garden is now looking a lot tidier as Winter draws closer.

The spell of dry weather also meant that this evening's walk with Bobbyn and the dogs was pleasant, rather than the muddy chore that is more usual in the wetter months.

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* The larger raised bed will need to wait until the leeks have been harvested

Oh, it's olive green

 In recent Journal entries I've mentioned that the weather has been grey and dreary for many days.  Grey it might have been, but it has also been very mild and the lawns are still growing.  They were last mowed at the beginning of the month and the bloody things need doing again!

It's always a challenge to keep them tidy at this time of the year as they never dry out properly, but if they are left to grow they will be a tangled, yellow mess when they get their first cut of 2025. I therefore planned to cut them this afternoon, once the worst of the dew had dissipated.*

This morning was taken up with chauffeuring 30% for an eye test. Normally she would drive herself, but the test involved dilation of her pupils and driving is never a good idea immediately after that. On our return I had some time to kill before lunch and my gaze fell upon my gardening hat.

It is a manky, sweaty item, but an absolute must in a garden with many overhanging branches. I'd love a pound for every time it has save me from a scraped or bumped pate. Anyway, back to this morning. My eyes fell upon my grotty gardening hat and I decided to try to do something about it. The care label said wipe clean only, but it was several years of use beyond a that treatment, so I dumped the damned thing in a bowl of hot water with a generous measure of detergent and gave it a vigorous drubbing. 

After a few minutes of washing the water looked more like the Avon in flood and I pulled out the hat to take a look. It looked much cleaner, but extremely dishevelled. It didn't look like a happy thing; almost like the clothing equivalent of a soaked sheep.  I gave it a damned good rinse and, as I type, it has been re-shaped and left to drip dry on a rack in the utility room. 

We had assumed that the hat was a dirty brown, but, as is says in today's entry title; it's actually olive green.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the garden. Leaves were raked and piled in the crates up in the orchard and the lawns at the rear of the cottage were mowed. The forecast for the next week suggests that it could be cooler, whilst still fine. 

Hopefully that'll slow the grass growth.

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* Fat chance of that!

Let's go to the pub

Today started with a WhatsApp message to wish TP a happy birthday. A card was sent and a call will take place later in the day, but presents will be ...  well presented, when he visits next weekend.

The day was then rudely interrupted when 30% took a call from Mrs Tweedy.* She had decided that she wanted to come over to view the cascade of hand knitted poppies that flow down the side of the village church bell tower ... an installation for Remembrance Sunday.  She obviously thought that we I would be delighted if she combined this with a visit and spent a fucking grim happy hour in her company.**

This would have been almost tolerable, but for the fact that within minutes of Mrs Tweedy's arrival, 30% disappeared to help out with a stray dog out on the Three Miler. I was therefore left to host Mr & Mrs Tweedy and accompany them down to the church for an outdoor Remembrance Service. Now I enjoy the company of Mr Tweedy, but his good lady is the death of mirth at the best of times and I really struggled.

Anyway, they eventually left and we were able to enjoy the rest of our Sunday.

30% and I attempted to slim down my collection of shirts,*** but I think we only managed to find half a dozen that I could bear to part with. Note to self: Try wearing a shirt with a collar, rather than a T-shirt when you go out.

A little before three o'clock we headed down the lane with Hobson to the pub on the village green.  Mid-Life Crisis had agreed to do another show after the success of their musical afternoon back in August. Today they sang inside the pub and their show was equally successful with several of the punters dancing in the tiny public bar.

Once again Hobson was the star and he received a huge amount of attention as he alternated between lying at the feet of one of the singers or perching between us on a pew to take in the show. We stayed for nearly three hours before heading home and agreeing that a takeaway was the perfect way to end the weekend.

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* My mother-in-law. I don't really need to say anything else, other than she makes Les Dawson's mother-in-law look like a paragon of virtue and kindness.

** Her happy face looks like she has just licked dogs piss off a thistle and I don't see her happy face very often!

*** 30% used to say that I had sixty shirts. This was a complete exaggeration. The final tally was a little over thirty, not counting T-shirts or sweatshirts.

I thought Saturday was for taking it easy

 Today was always going to be a busy day.

We had only just finished breakfast when our friend and landscaping contractor; Jason pulled up at the gate. I have already mentioned that we have engaged the services of a team to sort out the garden drainage and, hopefully, our friendly landscaper will then come in to replace the paving in front of the house and the low wall that borders the front lawn.

I spent twenty minutes talking Jason through the various aspects of the job and then we spent another forty minutes chatting at the gate with his mum* who, by coincidence, happened to be walking past with her dogs.

Once Jason had left I headed in to the kitchen and prepped and blanched two of the celeriac stems that I had unearthed yesterday. 

These activities consumed most of the morning. After lunch we threw the dogs in to the Defender and headed in to Redditch for a walk around the Abbey Fields.**  30% felt that it would be valuable for our dog boarder to see how our dogs behaved on a walk and with other dogs, so she had arranged this session in advance of their stay at the end of the month.

If I am totally honest I really didn't fancy a walk around a muddy field in the cold, but it was much better than expected and we had a pleasant hour getting to know our dog boarder better. She had already got a "good vibe" from our dogs as she has sussed that our three are well socialised and well behaved. This bodes well for the future, as our last experience with boarding kennels was awful. I think we both have a good feeling about Kate (the dog boarder) as she seems caring and practical ... this will allow us 30% to go away and not worry about the dogs.

Having walked with Kate, we then headed home and had a quick cup of coffee before heading out again. This time it was over to Worcester for a check up at the eye clinic. It was pretty much as expected, they are concerned about my intraocular pressure, but it could simply be a side effect of the four weeks of steroid treatment prescribed and recently finished.  They want to see me again in a week to see if the IOP has reduced. If there is no reduction I will be prescribed another set of eye drops.

Well, that's just about it for Saturday, at some point the blanched celeriac got put in the freezer too. I said it was a busy day. I didn't say it was exciting or interesting.

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* Grubby Sue

** This was a bit of a blast from the past. 30% used to live very close to the Abbey Fields and we would walk Sell-by-date there most days. That was twenty years ago, as we have lived in the village for twenty years, this September ... we're still classed as newcomers.

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.