Bringing on the wall, Day 37 - and a bantam moves in

I left the gentlemen to it today, just providing tea, the occasional encouragement and lunch at the end.  Yay, sausages.  Aren't sausages the finest of foods?  (For vegetarians, read Glamorgan sausages or tofu sausages or whatever Linda Mac provided as a meat substitute).

Knowing that Dave doesn't really do green, I served tomatoes and carrots (no chips, sadly) but he ignored the latter.  Emboldened by this, so did the Sage.  Wonderful as he was during my convalescence, I did yearn for more vegetables.  He actually likes veg, but I suspect he doesn't think they are quite manly.

Anyway, nothing spectacular is happening to the wall at present, but excellent progress is being made all the same, because it's the finishing-off stage.

Pugsley laid a tile (the behatted Sage is just behind it).

This section of the wall is now complete.  Tomorrow, we hope that the wall will be finished up to the corner.
This afternoon, as it was warm - it was supposed to rain this afternoon, but I was not surprised when it didn't - I left the door open.  I heard an amount of banging about in the porch and, suspecting bantam activity, picked up my camera and went to look.  There was our oldest girl, having decided she'd gone far enough, about to leave.

Later, I heard sounds in the passageway.  She had clucked* up more courage and come indoors and was checking out the kitchen.  She strolled out eventually.  I'd taken the precaution of shutting the drawing room door, Tilly would have been affronted.  She wouldn't have done anything, but she would have been very put out.

*see what I did there?

By the way, for those of you who think we've been mean, shooting a rabbit, a picture of a flageolet bean that it didn't eat, and one of two that it did.

Today's app (these are not necessarily only just downloaded, just things I use/play regularly) is Bottle Hunt.  Keep on the sound effects, the sound of breaking glass adds to the pleasure - it's not a game to take seriously, just to enjoy for a few minutes at a time, and you may want to turn up the brightness.   I've cleared the scores several times and am working on full marks (breaking every bottle) on every round. And it's another free one.  I actually spend very little on apps, and always try free versions of games if they're available - and if they're not, I generally don't bother.

Z looks forward to turning the corner

Plans are well in hand for the Village Festival.  We've had our final meeting, reckoning that the remaining details can be sorted out by email and face-to-face - we do talk to each other once in a while - which reminds me, after the interviews at the school a couple of weeks ago and before we discussed the appointment, two members of the panel popped out of the room and the Head and I took the quiet opportunity to check our emails.  His PA came in with some tea and laughed at us.  There we both were, tapping away at our iPhones, looking as if we were carrying on a silent conversation.

I am as besotted as ever with the phone, I'm afraid, and spend a happy few minutes, two or three times a week, checking out apps.  Rog thinks that four or five pages are normal; I'm afraid I have eight and a half.  I do like to have a couple of games on the go, as well as lots of information, some of it in game form (I'm not half bad on the Highway Code now, nor on anatomy: I finally know my arse from my elbow).  then there are books, audio books, newspapers, the radio (which is a bit rubbish in this poor-digital-reception area) and Spotify, never mind the things that come as standard anyway.  And I still sleep with the phone under my pillow.  It's not the last thing I cuddle at night, but it's generally the first that I handle in the morning.

These dull, mild days are wonderful for the greenhouse plants, and the rain - not that we've had whole lots here - is splendid for the veggies.  I haven't had to water outside since Saturday, which is a bonus at this time of year.  Of course, I don't water flowers or lawn.  I have plants that are suitable for sandy, gravelly soil in a sunny spot, instead.

Weather permitting, Dave is coming over tomorrow and we hope to complete the longest section of wall this week.  Then I can weed and dig and plant out the bed beneath and after that we can start on the final stretch.  It's something like 35 feet long and 5 feet tall, so it's more work than I'm making it sound, but the end will be in sight.

Today's app - iAssociate 2.  Which is free.  I'm enjoying it so much that I've paid for the original iAssociate as well.

Z gets some work done but is anxious about it for a while

I can't deny that I got a bit frustrated.  I remembered that I'd promised to do a write-up for the newsletter about the Scottish visit and that I'd said I'd have it to the editor by Tuesday morning.  So I started on that this morning, though I'd intended to do it at the weekend but forgot.  I was getting on quite well and said to the Sage, who was hopefully talking about starting on the photos for the catalogue and website, that I'd be about 15 minutes more.

Then the phone rang.  Doesn't it always? - it was something I had to talk about, to do with Meals on Wheels, and it took nearly the whole of that 15 minutes and then I'd lost the thread, so it was a further half-hour, with tweaking and correcting, before I sent it off.  And then I had an email that had to be dealt with - it was so much slower and yet so much easier in the days when you weren't obtainable so easily.  Still, at least it wasn't another phone call.

After that, I went and talked to the plants in  the greenhouse for a bit, in a friendly way, told them how well they're doing and how much I care for them, and tied up the new growth in the tomatoes and cucumbers and all that sort of thing.  It's perfect growing weather in there, warm and humid with no sun to scorch or wilt anything.  I've been watering thoroughly so didn't today, not to bring down the temperature.

The forecast was rain, but we've only had a couple of light showers, hardly enough to wet the ground.

Anyway, it was after lunch when we got going.  And it just wasn't going to work.  The light-box and the lights weren't right (we used to take photos outside but decided to be a bit more professional) - and I got a bit agitated.  As you can see, I don't do things early as Dave does, but I don't take them to the wire either.  I leave time in hand for those sorts of problems.  The Sage doesn't, but is lucky.

In this case, he was lucky to have me on hand to say "It Won't Do" rather than let him get away with poor pictures and finally to suggest taking them outside after all.  For the last catalogue pictures, I hadn't long had my operation and couldn't help except by making encouraging sounds and tea (and they ended up a bit dark, in fact).   Fortunately (today and outside), the breeze had dropped, it was still cloudy and, although there was a short shower through which I resolutely kept snapping (no water on lens, camera in light box as was china) we got it done.  I've sent everything off for the catalogue to Weeza, who has already started work on it.

I realised afterwards I'd missed a meeting, but it didn't really matter.  I was quite glad to have genuinely not noticed the time, as I didn't feel I had a lot to contribute but it might have been thought I did, and someone who was much better went anyway and has already emailed a report.  Gosh.  I emailed back to apologise, of course.

Now, I've got to get on with that work for the Meals on Wheels lady.  I explained that I was too busy today but I'd do it this evening.

Ooh, Weeza is good.  She emailed to say how she's getting on with the catalogue (up to lot 34 which is more than a third of the way) and mentioned it was raining.  So I asked her to direct the rain this way and here it is.  Splendid!

Gloat. Of course.

Ooh dear, this is turning into a habit.  I wake too early, the Sage wakes because I do, snuggles up and goes to sleep, and I lie there until it's getting-up time and then have a nice little nap anyway, putting me behindhand for the rest of the day.

It'll have to stop now though, I've got a busy week on.

Today, we went over to see Weeza.  Well, first, I'd played the music in church.  I received the hymns after I'd been down to the church yesterday to do the flowers, so couldn't be arsed to go back and practise - I mean, darlings, one can lose freshness so easily by over-practising, don't you think?  The fact that I didn't actually know two of the hymns is neither here nor there.  I bluff, I bluff, hear me.

*now trying to remember what the original was.  I know what it's from, of course, but what the second (and fourth, in repeat) word is, I can't think.  If I can by the time I finish, I shall mention it of course.  As ever, CBATG.

Apart from repeatedly playing C sharp in one place in each verse, when the key was G, it was fine.  I nearly had a small hiccup when, finishing the final verse of the final hymn with a flourish, I suddenly noticed another 'final final' verse on the next page.  I noticed it in time not to miss it, fortunately.

Phil was doing a hundred mile bike ride today, the Norwich 100, which starts from the Cathedral, goes up through mid-Norfolk to Sheringham (buggering up the traffic in Cromer en route) and then returning by the coast road.  He did it in just over 7 hours, about 6 1/2 without the compulsory lunchtime stop.  Good job it wasn't yesterday, when it was boiling hot.  He phoned from the Cathedral when he got back (only another 4 miles uphill to go, to be home) to suggest meeting at the pub for a Broadside.  I took photos.

Yay, photos.  Obviously, not all of them are here.  Most had faces in.

Afterwards, they walked home and we left to drive home.  Phil said that there had been torrential rain for a while - he didn't have time to get on a coat and overshoes and, while waiting to be checked in at the Cathedral, he'd taken off his shoes and wrung rainwater out of his socks!  Mind you, he was quite sweaty too, as I found when I kissed him hello.  It didn't seem quite polite to wipe my face, so I just had to be careful not to lick my lips - it's not within the bounds of propriety to taste a son-in-law's sweat.

The good thing for me was that I was very comfortable walking a quarter of a mile or so in 3 inch *approx - the height of the length of my middle finger) heels. I'm so sorry, darlings, if I'd known I was going to take my photo I'd have had a pedicure first.

yet more pictures of Zegetables

"Um", I said, with a rare burst of lucidity, "have you got a gate for the wall?"  The Sage said he had, and where it is, leaning against the barn.  I had observed it.  "Is it the right width?"  "Should be, I've measured it."  We went over to it and looked silently for a minute.  "Um," said the Sage, who talks much as I do, "it's not rabbit-proof, is it?"  It's a very attractive wrought-iron gate, but a slender rabbit would have no difficulty getting through.  "We'll have to put wire against it," he resolved.

Rather dismayed as I was by this, I let it pass.  "It'll need cleaning and painting, anyway."  "There's no rust," he said over-optimistically.  "Um," I replied - there's a wealth of meaning in these two-lettered words, isn't there? - and pointed out where there was, distinctly, rust.  It hasn't eaten into the metal and it's a very sturdy gate which will, with its weight, be the first test of the strength of the wall, but it would be silly to paint over it.

I can see I have a horrible job in front of me.  Wire-brushing and scrubbing an intricately-patterned gate, sealing it against rust and painting it.  I'll have to do it.  Left to the Sage, he'll cheerily put it in place, promising to do the job properly soon and it still won't be done in five years' time.

Still, I'm going to measure it first, to be sure it fits.

Last night I went to bed with a headache and woke with the same one.  I had meant to get up early and garden but, as I lay there feeling bleary, the Sage half-woke, put an arm round me and fell asleep again.  So I got up rather late and didn't do the gardening until later in the day when it wasn't so hot.

I've put some of the pots out, in the bit of bed that I've dug.  This is not how they will stay - it won't be long before there's more room when the next couple of sections have been completed, and I'll give these a bit more space, put out peppers and some flowers and aim to make it a bit more attractive - though I probably will stick to the flexibility of keeping things in pots this year - and more weeding has been done in the rest of the veg garden.  This has knocked the artichokes about a bit, but they seem all right.

The plants all suffered somewhat from having been kept in pots for too long, but the hardy things had to wait until the fencing went up and the rest was delayed by the cold weather.  It'll all recover and it can't be helped anyway.  The headache went too, by the way.  I sensibly lounged about drinking water for a bit, as I think I've been overdoing things in the heat of the day.

Me! Me! Or, in this case, meme

From Mago

1) Do you believe in ghosts? So many questions don't have a straightforward answer.  The word has connotations I don't care for (spooks in sheets, being afraid of the dark, which I'm not, superstition, which doesn't interest me).  But I do know people who have an awareness of otherworldly things.  I'm prosaic and have never felt such a thing, but I don't discount the possibility, and I think that my father is still around here somewhere, though it may be just in me rather than as a spirit presence.
I do believe I have a guardian angel.  He is a very good one and I don't take him for granted.

2) Are you content with your life? Yes I am.  I have much to be content with, but I'm an accepting type and would probably make the best of any situation.  Having said that, there have been times when I've not been happy and have been unable to do anything about it and have had to stick it out.

3) Have you ever been at or close to point blank?* As in, breaking point - I think you mean, in the sense of losing control of my temper.  This is extremely rare and brief at that.  I remember once, in a row with my husband, feeling myself losing control and about to become hysterical - it was quite a tempting prospect at the time.  This was about 30 years ago.   I can't see that happening ever again.  I am rarely angry, though often indignant, but anger is most effective when you don't lose your temper, in any case.

4) Is philosophy necessary?  I once gave a job to an Argentinian guy who wanted to be a teaching assistant for the work experience, with the eventual intention of becoming a teacher.  "I am a pheelossopherr" he said several times during his interview - and he was too, his degree was in philosophy.  He was great.
Anyway.  Yes, it is.  But don't look to me for it.  I'm far too down-to-earth.

5) Do you live with books?  I do, I always have and I'm not comfortable without books to hand.  I used to read voraciously, but I've mysteriously stopped in the last couple of years and read about a tenth of the books I used to.  However, books are more important to me than anything else for furnishing a home and I'm not happy unless I've got a couple of books on the go.

6) Have you ever been on stage? Only to give speeches.  I last acted when I was 10, when I played the Walrus in the school production of Alice in Wonderland.

7) Do you regularly read a printed newspaper? I do, two every day except Sunday, when I read one - which usually takes the rest of the week to finish.  I read The Times and the Eastern Daily Press.

8) Are you afraid of the future? No.  But I used to be.  It will be four years ago next month when I realised that I was no longer afraid to look ahead.  For several years, I could only manage by living in the present and didn't look back or forward.  As this was behind me, I was then able to talk to my daughter about how I'd felt.  Since I stopped being afraid of the future (specifically, my old age and losing my husband) I've been happy.  Which is cause and which is effect --- it was recovering, from a stressful time followed by bereavement, that made me lose my fear.

9) Do you know yourself? I think I do, I've given a lot of consideration to the subject.  I do accept myself, even the parts I don't care for - although I work on changing the bits that can be changed.  But I'm very forgiving.  I try not to make excuses for myself, all the same.

10) Will you play on? Possibly not.  I don't know about thinking up the questions, nor about whom to invite.  Not everyone likes doing memes, though I do.  But I'm diffident about passing them on.

Thanks, Mago.  I've been very earnest!

Z visits the dentist and buys shoes

I broke a tooth last week - not horribly, just chipped a substantial piece off when munching on raw carrot. Thanks to the holiday weekend, this was the first day my dentist had an appointment - they'd have fitted me in with another dentist if I'd asked, but I didn't mind waiting as it didn't feel as if it was all going to fall apart.

Afterwards, I thought I'd go and look for some clothes and shoes, but I couldn't face the ci'ee cen're (the glottal stop reached Yagnub some years ago) so toddled off to the shops at Riverside.

I seem to be quite sorted now, as far as shoes are concerned, for the summer. It was nice to be able to try on shoes with heels that weren't limited strictly to 1 - 1 1/2 inches. So I've got both flat shoes and heels. Clothes, I wasn't so lucky with, although I bought a pair of trousers. Most stuff was far too young for me or irredeemably dreary.

When I got home, I went to water the greenhouse, and found that the flageolet bean plants in the kitchen garden had been severely nibbled. The runner beans had received some attention too. We saw a very small rabbit in there last week. I told the Sage.

I'm afraid that the bunny has breathed his last; the Sage is a crack shot - although he prefers target shooting (1,000 yards is his favourite distance) and never shoots animals for sport. Still, a naughty rabbit at 10 yards was a straightforward target.

I feel guilty.

Z goes out and hears sad news

Today, I went to Cookham on a Stanley Spencer-related jolly. I'm not yet completely won over to Spencer but appreciation is there, at any rate. Don't care for the landscapes he called "pot-boilers", but then, neither did he.

So, had chances for chats with friends. As I mentioned in comments earlier, one person has 14 varieties of fig, in pots. Some of them aren't completely hardy so have to live in the greenhouse - I need to find more out about this, I've just got a Brown Turkey, not in a pot but with restricted root run and that's pretty large - but I do love figs.

I've discovered I've only got the rest of this week to do a write-up about our Scottish trip for the newsletter. Oh well. That's all right.

I did learn one terribly sad bit of news. You may remember, about three months ago, that I told you that the son-in-law of friends had been badly burned in a garden accident. In fact, with inexplicable carelessness, he'd lit a fire using petrol. No need for us to be wise after the event, it happened. After awful suffering, he died a fortnight ago, with septicaemia and multiple organ failure. In a last desperate attempt to save him, both legs were amputated. But in the end, there was no chance of recovery and it was agreed to turn off his life support.

A member of my family received terrible burns 40 years ago, and recovered, but it's still something that resonates more horribly than anything to Wink and me. I'm so sorry for him, and for his wife and young children of 20, 14 and 12.

Sorry to end on a depressed note, but here in blogland we all feel things together - there's a lot of kindness here, so please send some loving thoughts to Susannah and her family.

Z digs again

Squiffany chose to spend the afternoon with me, which was a delight. I was digging the bed at the base of the section of wall that Dave finished last Friday - here follows the dullest photos of the year -

and Dilly came along to fetch something from the greenhouse. She said to the children that she was about to prepare lunch, and Squiffany whispered to her, received approval and invited me and the Sage to join them.

After lunch, Squiffany helped me in the greenhouse for an hour, then we came in and played board games, then cuddled up on the sofa together with orange juice and biscuits to watch a DVD - it's such a compliment when a child wants to spend time with you. And it meant that Pugsley had some time alone with his mother.

I'm vacillating a bit on whether to plant things in that bed or put them out in pots. Next year, I'd like to plant some fruit trees, but this year I'll use it for peppers, aubergines and tomatoes. I think I'll probably do the pots - it'll mean more watering, but then the bed would need daily watering in any case. Apart from the asparagus bed, which wasn't weeded at all last year and is beyond redemption, the veg garden is getting quite tidy. Oh, and apart from the bed where I used to grow herbs. There still are some, but they've been overcome by such nuisances as tansy. I think that I'll have to chop it all down and smother it with old carpet. I can't dig out those roots. I've taken cuttings of perennial herbs. As for the asparagus, it's a very old bed and needs to be replaced. Again, I'll cut it down, cover with old carpet to smother the weeds and start again with new asparagus in another bed.

Dull post today darlings, sorry.

Birds, mostly

Some highly magnified and, therefore, nvg photos - but I found the situations interesting and entertaining, so please forgive their quality.

The first two were from Scotland. We were staying in a modern hotel some 15 miles from Glasgow, with a golf club, health spa and all the usual malarkey attached. The staff were delightful - I must tell you about Tracy, whom I kissed - remind me if I forget in the next few days.

One evening, we heard a lot of noise from some birds, clearly an alarm call. We saw a pair of oyster catchers chase away a crow. The next night, the parent birds were out foraging for food for their babies who, presumably, had left the next the previous evening and were in need of protection. It was very entertaining to watch - the parents seemed to find plenty of worms on the golf course, and they flew up to the ridge of the roof where the three babies were waiting, who then legged it enthusiastically to their parents to be fed.

Today, I saw a French partridge (this is the breed, not the nationality, I expect it was born here) on the garage roof. It stood watching the world go by for a few minutes, so I took this snap - this is the same picture in each case, but cut down and therefore enlarged in the second version.

What amused me was its descent to the ground. Clearly unconfident of its taking-off ability from a roof, it carefully sidled down the ridge towards the gutter and then hopped off, using its wings for balance. It looked as awkward as I would have in the circumstances.

I only discovered a few nights ago that Mike, whom you probably all know as Troubled Diva has been, this month, doing his "which decade is tops for pops?" poll here on Freaky Trigger. Now, he put me on to this excellent site some time ago, but what with going away and all, I've fallen way behind in my reading and it was only by skimming through before a hasty delete that I found it. Actually, watching and listening to several sessions of chart top-tenners from 50 years has left me more than a little jaded, being done over two nights as it was, but I enjoyed it vastly, as ever. I am probably Mike's most ignorant fan and one of his oldest, but I am unperturbed by that. And I'm immensely grateful to him for introducing me to Shearwater's album "Rook", which is entirely divine (particularly if you're expecting a falsetto countertenor very high voice, which I wasn't). When I enthused to Ro (this is going back a couple or more years) he kindly told me all about it and said he thought I'd like it because of my fondness for Okkervil River - so why didn't the child tell me himself?

Anyway.

In other news, Al has bought a new (second hand) shop counter. I haven't seen it yet, but it sounds splendid. What? Not interested? Oh. Sometimes, I don't understand people at all.

Tilly pwns Z

A lot of work went on here today. Weeza turned up at 9.15, when I was making cakes for church (yes, darlings, I know) and she and the Sage disappeared into the dining room to get the china in order for the next sale. I made and iced 33 fairy cakes and took them to church and, when I got home again, W & the S were just finished and ready for cheese and biscuits, which was my apology for Sunday lunch.

After a short break, we spent the next three hours doing the descriptions and condition report. I left the latter to W - I need to go out into the daylight to be sure of spotting every little mark, but she's got fantastic eyesight. I did the typing.

We'd normally spend 3 days on this. But this is the only day that Weeza has free.

I do need to check what I've written, particularly that I've got all the estimates correct, and I'll probably do a bit of tweaking to the words, but I'd got every morning next week marked down for doing this work, so giving up a Sunday was certainly worthwhile, especially in view of normal Bank Holiday weekend weather. That is, it hailed this afternoon.

Tilly decided that she was ready for her dinner at about 3 o'clock. She came and looked at me. I gave her a Tilly-treat, aka a Bakers Allsort, sometimes known as a Scooby Snack. She looked at me again. I explained that it would be dinner time soon and she'd already shared our lunch and that one was enough. She looked at me. I said no. She looked at me.

I gave her another Tilly-treat.

A few minutes later, hungry again, she came back, but we were part-way through a tray of china so I explained that she'd have to wait. She sniffed the china, to our alarm. She never goes near it. When told not to, she went and sniffed the other trayful.

I went and got her dinner ready.

Later again, I was nosing in the freezer, wondering what to cook for dinner. Suddenly, there were two peremptory barks.

Tilly had waited long enough and wanted to go and lie on her sofa. I opened the door. I apologised for keeping her waiting.

Z is keen to start pruning

Behind Al and Dilly's house there is a fairly uninteresting piece of ground, then some fir trees and then a field that doesn't belong to us. Back in the 60s, outline planning permission was given for housing on that field, so the Sage's parents hastily planted the firs - but the permission was allowed to lapse and now the field is 'outside the village envelope' and so there is no likelihood of houses being built there, not for some years at any rate. Our land is in the same category, by the way - of even less value in fact, which is why we can have such a big garden. We let the farmer put cows on the field for no rent to keep it in good order, although we do get a grant for its environmental value.

Anyway, a few of the trees have died off over the years, but they have all been looking past their best and, if they were to fall, they could damage the bungalow, so we've had them cut down. Although they weren't 'that' close and on the North side, it's lightened up Al and Dilly's bungalow no end. Today, the stumps were being removed, and we found that some of the roots were quite rotten, so it's just as well we've acted now. I went to inspect the area. Al and Dilly are planning to sow grass seed and have it as an area for the children to play on. I also looked at the scrubby shrubs and trees at the West end (which adjoins our house - some of you won't know that the bungalow was originally built, some 25 years ago, as a granny annexe to our house). These shrubs darken that end of our house and don't let any evening sun on to the area that's been cleared. There is a lot of dead wood and whole lots of brambles.

I'm itching, positively itching, darlings, to get going with my pruning saw.

I won't, yet, of course, as it's nesting season - but I have plans. I'm not letting the Sage have unfettered access, as he will take down too much, but I want to thin it out a lot.

It's not that I have time yet, in any case. I'm starting to cautiously enjoy gardening again, and we have a catalogue to put together, and I've got lots of school and Nadfas work to do. But it's so much more fun to get going on a project than just do the routine stuff, isn't it?

Later, Squiffany phoned to tell us that the bantams were all on the patch of cleared earth, pecking away busily. They must have smelled it, as it's well away from their usual stamping ground and around the corner of the house. Squiffany was concerned that they might get lost - but they were all home for supper as usual.

You might like to see the wisteria. I didn't put up a picture last year, as it didn't flower particularly well - don't know why, as there weren't any late frosts - but it's back in form again.

Bringing on the wall, Day 36 - Dave tops out

Dave soon got to work this morning, doing the capping on the first part of the longest stretch of wall. It had been lovely to see him - last time was back in October when I dropped in some shopping as he was under the weather with an illness from which he's still recovering. We stopped abruptly, having hoped to finish that section before the winter, but no harm has been done by the frosts.

The tiles underneath the final capping are the original ones from this house - we had it re-roofed, with hand-made traditional tiles from a firm in Sussex; the Sage went with a lorry and fetched them himself. We kept the old ones of course, and are really pleased to find such an appropriate use for them.

Then he got on with the next section - as you see, the first level of tiles is in place, to be followed next by the second tiles and then the capping next time.

I, meanwhile, had twigged that there wasn't a job for me. The Sage doesn't believe in talking things through in advance, and I'd cancelled my usual Friday session at Year 9 music - if he'd said, I'd have gone along as usual. I'd been working in the garden for quite some time already in fact, as I had a sleepless night, awake after half an hour's nap at 1.15 and up from about 2.30. I did a particularly boring bit of work on the computer that I'm rather pleased to have got to grips with, well before the deadline, and was out before 6. It was a lovely day and I enjoyed planting the squashes that had been waiting in their pots.

I spent the rest of the morning forking over and weeding the next bed, in preparation for more squashes. I was quite tired and my back ached and the Sage was going to help me, but first he needed to make a phone call and then some people arrived to see him. How lucky can a man be? Anyway, I got it done. I was interested to note that I have become a left-footed digger, having been right-footed all my life. For the last two or three years I haven't been able to dig at all, having not enough strength either to put pressure on the spade or stand reliably on my right leg. I carefully placed all the plants with the use of a yardstick. The ground is very dry - I've watered thoroughly this afternoon. I've also weeded the greenhouse. I've put tomatoes, aubergines and peppers, sweet and hot, into pots this year, which are filled mostly with very well-rotted and completely odourless manure, and only planted the cucumbers direct into the bed. I found it impossible to keep up with the watering last year and am doing it differently this time. The pots are bottomless, so the roots can find coolness and moisture in the bed beneath.

There's still loads to do, though. I've got a busy weekend to come.

We had lunch on the lawn, with bantams, the cock pheasant and a large rabbit wandering around. They hardly bother to move out of the way when we approach.

Burrelling again

I'm still not thinking straight, yesterday was quite draining. So you can have more pictures of the Burrell Collection.

Although it's not large, there's a lot to see. One of the things I liked was that it was the collection of one person, in the main (he left an endowment for future purchases, but his collection still makes up at least 90% of the whole) and he kept it at his home, so they are incredibly rare and precious pieces, but not grand - you can live with them. Apart from one large tapestry, they are all quite small. His stained glass collection was fitting in the windows of his house, until the war when there was danger of bombing.

The terms of his will were that the collection should be housed in a woodland setting in Glasgow, which wasn't easy to manage until someone left a suitable parkland area to the city, and that it should not travel overseas, for fear of a ship or plane going down. So items can be lent out in mainland Britain but nowhere else. There are about 9,000 pieces, of which a third are on show at any one time

I want to go back and have another browse. However, at least I bought the guide book - which I haven't unpacked yet. All that's been taken out of my case are clothes to be washed and clothes to be hung up. And my toothbrush.

Anyway, here are pictures.

I thought, irresistibly, of Reeves and Mortimer - a Ponderer, for anyone who remembers Big Night Out of about 20 years ago (we taped it for Ro, who was too young to stay up and he was the coolest kid at the Middle School for watching them before anyone else had heard of them) and the Dove from Above.

I can't remember who she was - but a lovely piece of stained glass.

Three more cabinets. The simple silver brooch appealed to me.

Eugène Boudin - The Jetty at Trouville, I think. Being a seaside girl at heart, I loved this. The hugging oneself against the wind.

An early self-portrait. Doesn't he look spiffing? We saw a couple of Rembrandts later, in his less confident and hopeful older age. Fine.

Remarkably, these are Chinese, dating from between 1550 and 1650. Incredible condition and looking far more modern. Beautiful. I want.

A wonderful and witty tapestry, which bears long and close study - though not from this photo which isn't clear enough.

Tomorrow, weather permitting, Dave will come over and we'll return to Bringing On the Wall.

Art in a woodland setting

It was worth the journey for the Burrell Collection alone. It was a delight. Since I am too tired, as I predicted, to write anything much (although I have drunk enough wine to make my typing a whole lot more accurate than it was an hour ago), I'll give you some pictures, mostly of animals. These are all Egyptian or Chinese, I think.

The nuisance of Blogger now is that you can't type while pictures are uploading, although I'm sure the blurb said you'd be able to. Anyway, here are the photos. I've got lots more, darlings, in case I'm similarly afflicted by an inability to form coherent sentences tomorrow.

Happy joy

I've actually been singing the song ... which reminds me, whatever happened to Ren and Stimpy? They were ace.

There is a reason - there's always a reason, darlings. The Sage has just left for a meeting...a PCC meeting...a meeting of a committee of which I was a member for many years, first as secretary and then as churchwarden, so I've always had a lot to do. The last two meetings, I've taken minutes as well as giving reports on churchwardenish stuff - and now, nothing. Poor lovely Sage hasn't got out of its clutches - but I HAVE.

There's another reason too. Home grown veggies. Tonight, we had the first courgette, as well as asparagus and coriander, and radishes that Squiffany grew at school. And the wisteria is beautiful. I've just been out to take pictures. Not that we're going to eat it.

I'll get pictures up in a day or two. Probably tomorrow, I've got a busy day tomorrow. The lovely and wonderful business manager at school has left - it's a terrific promotion, so can't begrudge her it but we will really miss her - and we're interviewing tomorrow. Presentations in the morning and interviews in the afternoon. The School Council are also meeting the candidates.

There have been letters in the papers recently about the thing of getting school pupils involved in the interviewing, but they've partly got the wrong end of the stick - and partly, they have a point as it appears that some schools haven't explained to the students what their brief is. It's not a talent show, it's a job interview, but it won't be their choice, it'll be down to the governors and Head; who will, nevertheless, look carefully at the students' findings and use them to back up their own judgement.

It's normal to involve pupils at our school and they take on the responsibility well. Teaching assistants, for example, work closely with children with learning or behaviour difficulties, so it's entirely appropriate for them to show the candidates round the school and give their opinions afterwards. It is not at all uncommon for their markings to be much the same as ours. They are often very perceptive.

Anyway, that's how I'll spend tomorrow. Tonight, I'll ... oh. I don't know what I'll do. Something frivolous.

Oh, another bit of good news. I just got a bank statement. Last month, I spent less than came in, which has to be an excellent sign.

From square to prime

I've been home for an hour. The Sage came to Norwich to fetch me. I'd said that I'd probably eat en route, but I wasn't hungry at the small transport caff, so I was by the time we got home.

What is it with (some) men? There was hardly a vegetable in the kitchen. I found garlic and three tomatoes and that, literally, was it. Not an onion, nothing green. In the end, I chopped a couple of cloves of garlic and two tomatoes, fried them a bit in olive oil, added some dried chillies and some salt, opened a tin of chickpeas, rinsed them and chucked them in and, since the Sage entered the room at that moment to offer me some hot-smoked salmon, put in a bit of that too.

The only other remnant of vegetable I found was a single chip which had fallen unobserved to the edge of the counter.

Sad to say, I'm too tired to write anything more, but tomorrow I shall upload pictures and may post a few. Or whole lots, who knows?

Oh, you may wonder about the title. It's our wedding anniversary. I've brought him back some fudge.

Catching Oysters

There's a pair of oyster catchers staying at the hotel. Not in one of the rooms, you understand; they have nested in the garden and are rearing three babies. A couple of nights ago, the parents were calling and flying about agitatedly, and last night the youngsters were on the ridge of the roof waiting for their parents, who were foraging for worms for them. We watched for some time and it was most entertaining to see because of the scuttling of the chicks as they legged it along the ridge tiles towards the parent bird who had landed, worm dangling from beak.

I've taken some pictures, but I don't know how clear they will be. If they're any good, I'll put them up here in a day or two.

We're off tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. It has been a lovely visit and we've seen some beautiful things and enjoyed good company. I am not marvellous at too much togetherness and did need some solitary time yesterday but, as I got it, I've felt thoroughly sociable again today.

Z suns herself

I'm sitting on the grass outside the National Gallery in Edinburgh, all alone apart from a few hundred other people enjoying a relaxing lunch hour. The rest of the party, apart from another eight who have similarly opted out, are on the coach being given a tour round the city. I like to explore cities on foot and, besides, it's a gorgeous day and I'm not spending it in a bus.

There are, in fact, notices which politely ask people to keep off the grass but we are, quite properly I believe, disregarding them. Everyone is just sitting or lying apart from some well-behaved little children running up and down the slopes, the older ones looking after the toddlers - it does an elderly maternal heart good, to see children being kind to their smaller fellows.

It was suggested by my friends that I was being overly optimistic, bringing sun cream instead of an umbrella, but my prescience is now commended.

Z continues into Uncharted Territory

For those of us who are lifelong Southerners, heading towards the Highlands gives rise to a certain trepidation. I feel that I need to hold on to my seat ... I wonder if that was the effect that the prospect of Glasgow had on the young man yesterday?

Today, we're off to Loch Lomond, via Stirling Castle, and then to Hill House in Helensburgh. I was unimpressed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh's house (reproduced) yesterday. You sit on one of those very low, though uncomfortably straight-backed chairs and it would be quite difficult to get up again without help. Appearance over function is not much use in a chair.

However, the Burrell Collection is fantastic. I could spend another day there very happily.

This post is brought to you by Z's iPhone, from Alistair's coach, whilst Tom the guide tells us about the Battle of Bannockburn.

Z pokes fun

My friend Jill and I laughed so much we had to prop each other up. We had taken our final glasses of wine - the four of us, two Jills, Pip and me - to sit in comfier chairs and chat after dinner. Jill and I noticed a short, dapper man come out of the dining room and, a few minutes later, return. We both saw his hand gesture low down in front of him and sniggered. "He's having a little scratch" chuckled Jill. "He could have been doing up his flies," I suggested, slightly more charitably.

An hour later, he came out of the dining room and vanished in the direction of the loo again. We made observations about the amount of beer he had been drinking or the weakness of his bladder. Then he came back.

He scratched his groin again. We were helpless with mirth.

Scots wahay. Or something like that.

Do you know, I'm further northward than I've ever been before. Considering that Buchanan is my middle name (yes, honestly, darlings, it's something I usually keep quiet about, it may seem odd that I have never been over the border, but it's something I've managed to miss out on.

Anyway, here I am in not-so-sunny (esp considering it's 11pm) Glasgow after being on the road for over eleven hours. Including stops.

I have already embraced an hotel employee.

What a difference...

... a couple of days make.

Before.

And, with the addition of some well-rotted (and completely odourless) manure, afterwards.

The stuff on the left, with the exception, of course, of the tomatoes in the big pots, is available for the shop, as are peppers and aubergines on the right. The sweetcorn and several varieties of squashes and pumpkins are going to be planted when I get home.

I meant to take a photo of the veg garden too, with its rows of five sorts of beans, plus herbs, lettuce, spinach, chard and courgettes (and anything I've forgotten about) but I didn't get around to it as Tilly was hoping for her dinner. Well, I went out afterwards to pot up aubergines, but when I finished the Sage was hoping for his dinner, so it still didn't get done.

I'd promised to make a card for everyone with phone numbers on - it had seemed a good idea, at one stage, to put the National society logo on them, and I fiddled round for ages because I'm not very good at this sort of thing, finally got it done and then printed out a sheet - and the blue of the logo was streaky. I tested and cleaned the print head - all the other colours were fine, it was just the blue. So, I thought, it doesn't matter, I'll print it in black and white. it wouldn't. As the ink cartridge was nearing its end, I decided to change it. The new one was no better.

The Sage had his dinner late. I've emailed it to Dilly and she will print it out for me. I've had enough.

Z's back (aches, that is)

Golly, I'm tired. I woke up at 6 o'clock, quite unnecessarily early and didn't get up at once - checked my emails in bed however, so as not to waste time - and was out in the greenhouse by 7, getting everything ready for Al. By the time he came out, I had loaded up the car. Remembering to put my eye in, I shot inside and then followed him to the shop...a quick unload and I was back for the second load. Breakfast at 9, a look at the newspaper, off to church, where I'd put myself down as sidesman, for coffee and as organist - home again, quick lunch and then into the garden to start planting.

That's gone well, actually, and I've got broad beans, two sorts of french beans, runner beans, chard and spinach planted out, and the remainder ready for Al to sell. Tomorrow, the courgettes, haricot beans, some lettuce and herb seedlings to plant out and tomatoes to put into final pots, as well as aubergines to pot up. When I arrive home again, there will just be the squashes and sweet corn to plant out, plus anything in the aubergine, tomato and pepper line that there isn't room for in the greenhouse.

I was so anxious not to waste time that I decided on the time I could spare for each job and set the timer. It's a method I've used for years to get myself going - it's an illusionary time limit, of course, but it works for me. In fact, I was pretty accurate, and I was done within a minute or two either way each time. I've also restocked the trays of plants for Al for tomorrow - each variety of tomato is separate, and everything is clearly labelled. I'm out of outdoor cucumbers, but have been able to replenish his supply of beans and have potted up a few spinach and chard plants as well.

Al was quite indignant yesterday, on behalf of one of the wholesalers' driver. I was talking to an elderly lady customer whom I haven't seen for a long time, as she hasn't been well enough to get out - Al has been delivering to her - and I noticed a woman waiting to talk to him. I didn't hear any of the conversation, but afterwards he said he'd had a complaint. She had had to wait while his daily ordered was delivered at 7.30 that morning.

The road by the shop is narrow (and one-way), but there's just room for one vehicle to pass another. However, cars had been -illicitly - parked on the double yellow lines overnight so, when the van stopped in its usual place, cars couldn't pass to the left of it. She complained bitterly that she'd had to wait, and so had other drivers.

"Suffolk and what?" was my reaction, I admit - I know how quickly the deliveries are made, and how cheerfully, and I respect the hard work of the delivery men, who start their working day at some time before 3 am, loading their vans with the daily orders, in the right order for delivery, driving for several hours to do their rounds and never missing a day, whatever the weather - they've been late a few times during the snowy periods but they've never let Al down. "Too lazy to walk a few extra yards, that's his trouble", nagged the woman. I'd love to see her lift half-hundredweights (25 kilos), portly as she was, never mind carry them an inch further than necessary. A lazy person wouldn't turn up for the second day.

From his report of the conversation, although Al stuck up for the driver, he was more polite than I'd have been. I was indignant, and afterwards apologised to Al's Saturday boy (who is a pupil at the High School) for my outspoken language. He was more amused than offended.

Al is pretty unhappy at the thought of losing him after the summer. He's about to take his GCSEs (that is, the exams taken at the age of 16 at the end of compulsory education) and has gained an apprenticeship at Sizewell - one of 26 out of 170 applicants. He's going to do his initial training in Portsmouth, so has handed in his notice. Al has only once had a young employee so intelligent, reliable and good-natured. He'll be very hard to replace.