Abu Simbel

 Today was a day that I had been looking forward to for many years. A trip to see the temples at Abu Simbel.

We were outside our hotel at 4.00 a.m. and things went downhill from there. A tourist bus rolled up and called 30%'s name. We clambered in and set off. After about forty minutes the driver's companion took a phone call and, in very broken English, asked if 30% was an Italian lady called Serena! We said "no" and he said we had misunderstood him.

The bus turned around and headed back to our hotel. More calls took place before we were invited back onto the bus and our journey resumed. It took three hours to cover the 280 km to Abu Simbel plus the forty minutes to head back to Obelisk Hotel. We haven't got a clue what had happened, so decided to try to go with the flow.

We eventually arrived at Abu Simbel at nine o'clock and it was packed. There were people and tourist buses everywhere. It was a stark contrast to the mellow experience at Philae yesterday.

We wandered down the slope to the temples and got our first view of their magnificent facades. Hordes of people milled in front of them like ants. Our guide gave us a quick overview of what we would see and gave us about forty minutes to view the temple. We were concerned that this wasn't enough time, but we were wrong.  We would have liked to have spent more than an hour in there but it was rammed with people ... literally a rugby scrum. It was virtually impossible to take a photo as we were jostled and barged. I put my camera away and tried to make memories instead.

Abu Simbel temple,
with careful editing of the hordes

The smaller temple was no different and by ten thirty we were back in the bus, tired and a little disappointed. 

We were both glad we got to see the temples, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. The crowded and noisy environment really diminished the splendour and marvels of Egyptian monumental architecture. 

If we were to do it again we would stay overnight in Abu Simbel city and view the temples later in the day when the crowds thin significantly. 

Health alert

 My vitamin P and H* levels have plummeted to dangerously low levels and I am concerned that I may need to seek treatment at a secular medical centre.

Alternatively, a pigs in blanket suppository might work if administered by a suitably qualified practitioner. 

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* methylated protein chains found predominantly in pork products. A good source of vitamin P is a pork pie and bacon is a rich source of vitamin H.

The Philae Temple and other sights

 It was an early start this morning. We were up, dressed and breakfasted by half past six as 30% had arranged for us to be picked up by our tour guide a little after seven.

Today our itinerary included the temple at Philae, the Aswan High Dam, the unfinished obelisk and a boat trip through the first Nile cataract followed by a visit to the Nubian village with afternoon tea.

Our guide; Mustapha was charming and friendly and his narratives at the sites were splendidly informative; ranging from broad narrative to delightful, amusing little nuggets. We can now tell the difference between the cartouches of Hathor and Isis!*

Philae temple was beautiful and quite fantastic. It took ten years for it to be rescued and relocated after the original island was flooded by the creation of lake Nasser in the 1970's. Clearly it was a monumental effort to achieve this, but the original construction with little more than iron tools and manual labour is mind boggling!

Philae temple, Aswan

A boat ferried us to and from Philae and the we were chauffeured over to the Aswan High Dam to take in the views; South over Lake Nasser stretching 500 km towards Sudan and North back towards Aswan.

After the dam we headed back in to the city to the site of an ancient Egyptian granite quarry. Aswan is the source for all of Egypt's ancient red granite statuary and this particular quarry was where an attempt was made to extract a 41m granite obelisk, at the command of Queen Hapshepsut.  Unfortunately the huge stone cracked during the quarrying process and remains there.  Again it is astounding to consider the monumental skill and  effort that would have been required to mine, extract, move and erect stelae of this size!

After hiking around a quarry we had a gentle hour boating up the fist cataract before spending a lovely hour with a Nubian family in their home. We drank sweet mint tea, chatted and met Za'atar, a huge, 85 year old African spurred tortoise. She was surprisingly sprightly for such an old lady.

Za'atar

We arrived back at our hotel in the afternoon. It will be dinner and an early night as we are up before four tomorrow for a trip to Abu Simbel. 

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* The cartouche of Isis features a throne, whilst that of Hathor has a house.

A traveller's nightmare

 Yesterday's flight into Cairo landed about an hour later than scheduled and we had a mad rush across the airport to make our domestic flight to Aswan.

As we collapsed in to seats A and B, row 30, we wondered about our luggage. I casually bet the contents of my wallet, that our suitcase wouldn't make it on to the Aswan flight.

We landed close to midnight and, after checking the domestic and international luggage carousels, it became apparent that I was right ... BOLLOCKS!  A friendly member of the airport staff shepherded us through a deserted airport and we stumbled our way through the lost luggage procedure. We were told to call the airport in the morning. Neither of us was particularly optimistic about seeing our suitcase again.

Fortunately our taxi driver was waiting to meet us and it was a fairly short drive to the Hotel Obelisk. 30% fired off a couple of emails to cancel Tuesday's planned trip and we collapsed into bed.

This morning we got the hotel receptionist to call the airport and we were advised that we should have our case by midday. We couldn't establish if they had definitely found it, or whether this was optimism polished and honed way beyond the level of standard bullshit.

We filled our morning with a wander around the Nubian Museum. I think each of us was still travel fatigued and dreading the thought of shopping for clothes.

Noon time came and we returned to the hotel. Amazingly our case had arrived. With the stress dissipating, we took the local ferry across to Elephantine Island and explored a little.

Gardens behind the Nubian village
Elephantine Island, Aswan

Now we can relax and start our holiday.

Mostly travelling

It was an early start this morning. I was up before six and we were out of the door by seven.

The dogs were loaded into the Defender along with a mountain of food and a selection of beds. It was then a quick run in to Redditch to drop them off at the Boarder's house.

We then retraced our steps to let the chickens out, pick up our bags and swap cars.

By eight thirty we were heading towards Heathrow.  It was a trouble free drive and we were parked and entering Terminal 2 before the eleven o'clock.

 
It was at this point that I encountered the general public and it appears that most of them had never experienced a lift* before.  Fuck me! There were only 5 floors. How the hell do you manage to cock that up? In my eight months of retirement I'd forgotten about stupid people.

Anyway, I'm now sat at an altitude of 11,200 metres with an airspeed close to 900 kph. Zagreb is off to my left and we should land in Cairo in two and a half hours.
I'm not sure how often I  will be able to post in The Journal, but I'll do my best. As for pictures, you'll just have to wait until I get home.

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* Elevator, if you're from across the pond.

One bag, 23 kg maximum

Storm Bert was still blowing across the Midlands this morning and I woke to a grey blustery day.

There's not a lot to report for today, as the weather just made us want to stay indoors.

My main achievement was to pack our clothes into a single suitcase, keep within the baggage allowance  and not initiate World War 3.*

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* by asking "why the fuck are you taking that?"

Winding down?

 With two days to go before we head off to Egypt, our focus has shifted to holiday preparations.

We are only away for eight days and our holiday mantra has always been "provided we have passports, insulin and a credit card we'll be fine".  Consequently neither of us is getting in to a flap. Holiday wear and other essentials have been placed in relatively neat piles and, at some point on Sunday, I will be called upon to pack them in to a suitcase.

I have prepared a mental list of what the dogs will need at the boarders and that will get chucked in to the Defender at some point tomorrow too.

So that was it for Saturday.  A lengthy snooze took place in the afternoon, and a little light reading took place.  Also, the winds and rain brought in by Storm Bert discouraged me from venturing outside, unless it was absolutely necessary. It was definitely an indoors sort of day. Egypt's sunshine and warmth will be a welcome change.

Carrot Cake - part 2

 Friday's baking got me thinking about my original carrot cake recipe, so I googled again and actually managed to track it down.

A pdf of the user manual for a Sharp microwave/oven grill* was found and here is an excerpt.

I clearly recall that I doubled the quantities, used two tins and baked this cake in an oven rather than a microwave. I can't remember anything about the temperature or timing, but, as a rule, I used to cook everything at Gas Mark 5!

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* When I separated from TP's biological mother, she took the cooker. I survived with the Sharp microwave, a toaster and a kettle for a good few months until my auntie Joan gave me her old gas cooker. I recall that it was dark green and the numbers on the oven control had been rubbed off. I learnt that you didn't need to be that precise about oven temperature when cooking.

The last of the carrot crop

 I dug up the last of my carrot crop back on the twelfth of the month and the final few are still sat on the bottom of the fridge.  They really need to be consumed and today I made my token contribution.

One of the first meals that I cooked for 30% was a roast lamb dinner and I had baked a carrot cake for dessert. This was back in 2002 and I don't think I have baked another in the intervening years.  The cake must have been pretty good, as 30% still speaks very fondly of it, and it only took her the best part of twenty years to agree to marry me.

Anyway, back to the narrative. A few days ago 30% suggested that it would be nice to make a carrot cake with some of our carrots, as they are very sweet.  I very rarely bake,* so I was a little apprehensive, but I didn't take a huge amount of convincing that this was a good idea.  I no longer had the recipe so successfully used to woo 30%, so I scoured the internet for an alternative.

The BBC Good Food website came to my rescue with the recipe detailed below. I did have to adjust the ingredient quantities, as the original was for a 20 cm cake tin and mine are 23 cm.

Ingredients & Method

- Oil two baking tins and line with baking parchment

- Pre heat oven to 160 ℃ (fan)

• 290 ml vegetable oil
• 125g plain yoghurt
• 5 eggs
• 2 tsp vanilla essense
• the zest from 3/4 of an orange

- Place the above ingredients in a jug and whisk together

• 330g self raising flour
• 420g soft brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 3 tsp ground cinnamon
• 2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
• a good pinch of salt

- Place the dry ingredients in a bowl and mix well, ensuring that there are no lumps.

• 330g grated carrots
• 125g rasins or sultanas
• 65g of roughly chopped walnuts

- Finally mix the wet ingredients with the dry ones and stir in the carrots, raisons and chopped walnuts. 
- Mix well and divide between two cake tins
- The recipe suggested a bake of 25 - 30 mins, although feedback indicated that forty minutes was more realistic. Note: With the increased quantities and larger tins, my bake was about an hour
- Place in the oven and bake until a skewer comes out clean. 
- Once cooked, remove from the oven and leave to cool on a rack in the cake tins 

Once the cake has cooled it can be iced, but it also freezes well. As we are off to Egypt on Monday, I did exactly that. The two cakes were double wrapped in clingfilm and then finished with a jacket of aluminium foil, before being put in the freezer.  They'll be thawed and iced much nearer to Christmas.

Icing Ingredients and Method

• 125g slightly salted butter
• 375g icing sugar
• 125g full fat cream cheese

- Beat the butter and sugar together until smooth
- Add half of the cream cheese and beat again
- Beat in the remaining cheese bit by bit, to prevent the icing splitting
- Use half of the icing as a filling and the remainder as a topping 

- Sprinkle 65g of chopped walnuts on the top 

So, there you go. Friday's achievement was a carrot cake. I'll let you know how it turns out later next month.

Note to self: Reviews of this recipe question the icing ingredients, suggesting that the quantities are insufficient and that there is far too much icing sugar.

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* Apart from the bakery course at Butter Street on the nineteenth of October, the last time I baked was when I made a sourdough loaf during lockdown. If I'm honest, I don't think the "reward" of a sourdough loaf is worth the faff of making a sourdough starter ...I'm not a fan.

Getting on with things

Apparently The Rat aka Dog#4 has an annoying habit of bopping 30% gently with her paw at around six in the morning. The bopping continues until 30% rises and lets The Rat out for a pee.  I say this is "allegedly annoying" because The Rat very rarely wakes me. I can be up well before 30% and The Rat still rouses 30% so that she can go out and complete her early morning round of the gardens.

This morning was a case in point. 30% was away on her Spa break and I woke at around half past seven. The dogs were still snoring and, in fact, I had to call them from their beds and encourage them to go out and empty their bladders.  Part of me thinks that The Rat is well aware that 30% is not an early riser and takes an evil pleasure in dragging her from her bed a good couple of hours before she would prefer to rise.

Anyway, on to today's comings and goings.  

First on the list was to taxi Sheila in to Alcester to pick up her car from the bodyshop. I killed two birds with one stone and fuelled the Defender, as we were passing the petrol station.

Once back at home I headed out with the dogs and enjoyed a short walk down the lane. The weather is cold and bright and the dogs loved bounding over the patches of crunchy snow along the verges. 

The weather might be sunny, but it is cold and my next task was indoors. I retired to the computer and drafted a set of chicken care instructions for the son of one of our neighbours. He has agreed to look after them while we are away and I have already shown him the ropes, but I thought a brief summary might be useful.  As a parent I am well aware of the attention span of your average teenager!

The afternoon saw me attend to a couple of jobs that really needed doing before we head off to Egypt. I wrapped the tree ferns in some horticultural fleece and, as I was doing that, I noticed that 30% hadn't wrapped up her dahlia tubers.  We have had a couple of frosts and I am well aware that they aren't frost hardy.  I took a chance and wrapped them in newspaper and tucked them away in the frost free store room ... I really hope that I don't find a rotten mess when I return to them in the Spring.

The other job was to give The Rat a quick hair cut before they all head off to the Dog Boarder.  It was nothing too severe, just a quick clip of her face and paws to tidy her up and make her look a little less feral.

That's about it for Thursday apart from mentioning that 30% and Jules arrived home late in the afternoon, having aborted their Spa break due to yesterday's medication mishap. 

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Post Script: It looks like the second week in December might be a busy one for me. 30% advised that the electricity supply company have been in touch and will be felling the conifer that obstructs our electricity feed on the 9th of December.  That'll see me out with the chainsaw and axe; cutting and splitting logs for the following few days.

The best laid plans ...

 of mice and men oft go awry.

Well that seemed to be the theme for today. Let me explain. I didn't have a particularly busy day planned and apart for a trip in to Alcester to pick up a few essentials and an appointment at the Doctor's Surgery* I didn't achieve much.

The plans that went awry were those of 30% and mummy Sheila. 

Sheila's car was in for a paintwork repair and I had volunteered to take her in to Alcester at around five o'clock to collect it. Five o'clock came and went and it eventually transpired that it wouldn't be ready until tomorrow morning. Sheila's evening was totally screwed, and it looks like I'll be running her in to Alcester bright and early on Thursday.

As for 30%, she and Jules had headed off to Ashby de la Zouch for a Spa break.  She phoned this evening and I asked if they were having a fun time. "Not really" was her reply and she went on to explain that she had managed to misplace one of her insulin pens.** As a result, she is highly likely to be back home tomorrow.

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* My GP had requested that I make an appointment, following receipt of a referral request from my Optician.  I was quite annoyed by this as my GP's surgery received the referral request around the third of November, but were unable to offer me an appointment until early December ... until I made a fuss! So basically they were unwilling to make the referral until they had discussed it with me, but wouldn't be available for that conversation for a month ... another month of painful eyes and no progress being made. 

As for the brush off I got from the snotty cow at the reception desk when I attempted to point out that my Diabetic Review was well overdue ... Don't Ask!

** This is not a good thing for a Type 1 diabetic to do. We become very unwell, very quickly without insulin. Fortunately she was still in possession of her fast acting insulin and would be able to maintain a degree of blood sugar control until normal service was restored.

It's a good job I brought the Tree Ferns in

I woke early this morning and, as I peered out in to the dark, everything seemed lighter than it should be. Moonlight, I thought and then I noticed the steady fall of large, soft snowflakes.  Snow had been forecast for the North of the Midlands, but had not been expected to get this far South. Clearly the Met Office had got it wrong, as there was a good couple of inches on the ground and it was still falling, thick and fast.

Unexpected, but quite lovely

Now I love a snowy day, but this was cold, wet snow and, with temperatures above freezing, I guessed that a lot of it would be slush by the end of the day. Thoughts of walking with the dogs through dry, powdery snow were abandoned and I decided that indoors was the place for me.

This morning I gave my shotgun a long overdue clean and also arranged a test ride on a BMW R 1250 R. The test ride is scheduled for the sixth of December and, pessimist that I am, I expect the weather to be miserable. I therefore extracted my motorcycle jacket from the wardrobe and used the last of the Nikwax to reproof it. As I said yesterday "I hope it works".

My final accomplishment was to make an attempt to deal with the lodgers in the loft.  

One of the downsides of living in a rural cottage is that we do tend to get an influx of mice towards the end of the year. I haven't a clue how they do it, but the little buggers manage to climb the exterior of the cottage and take up residence in the roof space.  I can then hear the noisy little sods as they scurry around during the hours of darkness.

Bait blocks were liberally scattered and traps were set. I can report a single kill in a trap set a couple of weeks ago, but I know there are more up there.

Finally, I suppose I should make some reference to the title of today's entry.  Apparently tree ferns are not fully hardy, only being capable of tolerating -5℃, so it's a good job I moved them to the greenhouse a couple of days back.  I don't think a crown filled with wet snow would have done them much good.

Failed again

 I really need to sort out my motorcycle insurance. I have got as far as getting all the paperwork together and have even bookmarked the insurance comparison website. However, every time I settle to complete this task I manage to find something else to do instead ... and today was no different.

I settled at my computer this morning and my attention was diverted by a subscription offer to the New Scientist website.  I have read NS since I was a student and most days I tend to peruse the day's new articles and, cheapskate that I am, read the ones that are free.  Today, however, I finally committed and subscribed. That lead me down a fantastic rabbit hole of interesting science articles and I spent a lot of time, and I meant a LOT of time, engrossed in recent scientific discoveries.

It was not a particularly pleasant day so I decided that indoor jobs were the order of the day. I emptied the pockets of my gardening coats and set about cleaning them and re-waterproofing them using a product called Nikwax. Watch this space to see whether I am singing their praises or condemning them to eternal damnation the next time it rains. 

It should be noted that I hate getting wet. I don't mind being out in the rain. I just loathe it if my coat leaks. There is nothing worse than that cold trickle of rain down the back of your neck, or the slow realisation that you're starting to get cold and damp where a seam has let the rain through.

Sorry, went off on a bit of a tangent there. So, I waterproofed the coats and also wandered up to the hives. It is way too cold for an inspection, but I wanted to remove the syrup feeders and replace them with a pack of fondant. Once the temperature drops the bees will no longer feed on syrup, but they will consume fondant. Bee fondant is similar to the stuff that is plastered on the outside of cakes, but has less additives. A kilo pack of fondant was placed on the crown board of each hive and the feeders were taken back to the house and given a good scrubbing.

I then tidied myself up and headed in to Worcester for this week's appointment with the Ophthalmologist. Apparently my intraocular pressure has reduced, but not enough and I have been prescribed yet another eye drop and will be back at the clinic the day after we return from Egypt. It seems that my eyes respond to a course of steroids by pushing up the IOP. She also decided that the punctal plugs hadn't alleviated my symptoms, so they were removed ... far more gently than the bloody insertion.

So that was Monday. It looks like I might be sorting out my insurance tomorrow ... or Wednesday!

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.