Z didn't take photos

Sorry - I was too busy this morning and differently busy this afternoon and now I've stopped for a break, I'm having a break instead.

There was a truly adorable baby being christened this morning. She looked with great interest and enjoyment and gave every impression of cheerful concentration when anyone was talking about her. She did take the opportunity for some bottled refreshment at the preparations for Communion, which was a good idea as the rest of us all intended to have a swig of port ourselves and meant that she would be all ready to smile again happily during the lunch that her grandparents were to host afterwards. The family party all were stunningly good-looking and very generous, as we found when we came to count the collection afterwards, hem hem. One of the godparents is stuck in Berlin as the planes aren't flying. At least one of our High School teachers is stranded somewhere in America and having an enforced extra week of holiday. Many of the people at the Annual Convention that the Sage went to on Friday in London are from the US as well, and may be spending longer here than they'd expected.

I've said to Al that he can take a dozen trays of broad (fava) bean plants to sell if he wants to. They are very healthy and well grown without being pot bound. We need to get on and fence in the unwalled side of the kitchen garden, as I've got beans and peas to put in, and will soon have other things too.

Tilly is quite over her upset stomach and is very pleased with the eventual outcome of the episode. We've decided that she's a bit old and delicate for tinned dog food and, since dry food alone is a bit disappointing, that she'd better share our food. She's been having chicken casserole (not our bantams, which live a natural lifespan and are not eaten) and very much enjoying it. In addition, we've stopped feeding her hide chews (the strips were banned a while ago, but now the chopped and reconstituted sticks are a bit much too) and are giving her, as little treats, Allsorts - not the liquorice sort - if you can be bothered to click on the link, hold your mouse over the bottom left picture and it'll leap out at you, it's the middle one. Anyway, she thinks that they are totally delicious and does her "time for a little something?" routine to me several times a day.

This is the life - live blogging

At present, I'm sitting on Phil and Weeza's front lawn relaxing while they clean my car. It's scorching hot in the sunshine here and I'm very comfortable.

I've not been entirely idle. I potted on some basil seedlings and sowed some more, but now my job is done.

What happened, we noticed how dusty the car has suddenly become, as have others, and I said that I wonder if that's dust/ash from the Icelandic volcano. I added that it needs a wash anyway as there are cat pawmarks all over the bonnet and roof from being parked in their drive for the last couple of weeks. And Weeza said their car is dusty too and maybe Phil would wash them both while she hoovered them.

And then, noticing me tapping away on the phone, she said to Phil, "I think we're being live-blogged."

Well, they weren't, until then. They are now.

It is a beautiful day though. And the hedgerows and trees in blossom are beautiful. The countryside is at it's very prettiest at this time of the year, I think. I love it when the blackthorn and then the hawthorn are in flower and the fresh, pale green leaves are new.

Z finds people Lovely

I spent the morning thinking how jolly lovely people are.  Because I cheerily said to someone whose granddaughter is getting christened here on Sunday that we'd decorate the church, that meant I landed four other people with the job of doing nine flower arrangements.  And they are all really busy but no one complained a bit.

And then afterwards, I helped carry out three dozen cups and saucers and a hot-water urn to one of their cars so that she could take it to someone else's house (she came and did her flower arrangement this afternoon) as I'd offered them for her coffee morning tomorrow, which I said I'd go to before I realised it clashed with something else.

And after that, I walked home, and there was the dustcart and the dustmen just emptying the wheely bins into it.  The chap didn't see me coming, but I saw him, bending to pick up a few bits that had fallen on the ground and tossing them in the dustcart.  Then he carefully and neatly lined the bins against the wall.  "I'm just in time to take them home, thank you," I said jovially.  "And, thank you for picking up the odds and ends," I added.  It's not what dustmen are reputed to do - but actually, there's never anything left lying around.  And the bins were rather overfull as we forgot them last time, but they didn't mind.

Later, I went to have lunch with a friend and we chatted so much that I rather overstayed and had to phone Al to ask him to let Tilly out.  When I got home, I had a lot to do in the three-quarters of an hour before I was going out again, so I slammed a chicken leg into the oven, did Tilly's dinner, chopped an onion and put it in a pan with some stock, let it cook for a bit, added some some vegetable soup I'd made a couple of days ago and a couple of tomatoes from a tin, put some new potatoes and a carrot on to cook separately (real cheat's cookery here), belted down to the greenhouse to put the heater on and do the watering and close up - there was an air frost last night - took Tilly for a walk, came back and put the nearly-cooked chicken and the carrot in the sauce and back in the oven, phoned the Sage to check he had caught the train back from London, got a slice of bread and a chunk of cheese, ate some of them, emptied and refilled the dishwasher, put the potatoes in the casserole, prepared sprouting broccoli, ate the rest of the bread and cheese, put on lipstick, took the casserole out of the oven, put a plate to warm and wrote a couple of emails.

Then it was time to leave.  On time.

The Sage had a lovely time in London.  But he'd accidentally locked his phone and didn't realise it, so didn't know how to ring me.  Isn't he sweet?  Lucky I checked, I was going to go to the Vodaphone place in Norwich tomorrow and say it didn't work.  I'd have felt such a fool.

Holiday over

I've been resolutely ignoring emails about school until yesterday, but then I really had to get going and do things.  And then I noticed that I was supposed to phone someone last Friday, so I procrastinated - with literal intention, of course.  So I've done that, and received two more long calls - I don't really talk on the phone much, usually.  I was quite glad of a glass of wine by the time all was done, and then I turned round to find that the Sage had finished the cooking of the dinner.

I have my car back for a few days - that is, the likelihood is that Weeza and Phil will get their own back within a few days, but if not I'll keep mine over the weekend, as I need it tomorrow, Saturday and Tuesday.  So do they, so if the need arises I'll go over there on Monday night and Weeza and I can share it on Tuesday.  She and I went to a wool shop, because she wants to knit her grandma-in-law a shawl for her 90th birthday - she and Phil's parents are planning to go on a cruise in celebration and Weeza thought that a light and elegant shawl for the evenings might be rather well received.  Grandma used to do a lot of knitting and sewing and will appreciate the effort.  She really doesn't want to be given stuff that she'll have to find somewhere to put.  It was a lovely shop, and the lady in charge knew what she was talking about.  There were also bags of washed fleece to buy if you wanted to do your own spinning, which vastly appealed to me.  Not that there's any real likelihood of my taking up spinning as a hobby.  With all the brambles around here, the place is enough like Sleeping Beauty's palace already.  If the palace was a 16th century cottage, that is.

Zerlina was very good.  There were all these open compartments with different wools and she just wandered around looking at them - I kept an eye on her in case she started pulling them on the floor, but she does know it's not allowed.  I never removed things from shelves when my children were small either - I expected them not to wreck the house, although I was pretty relaxed about untidiness.  When I did housework, I used to clean a part of the room and then dump the babies there with toys and they could mess it up again, except cleanly, leaving me to finish the rest of the room.

The Sage is going to London tomorrow on an early train.  I've set the alarm for 5.30.  I've got to be out by half past 8 myself.  Several of us are going to the church, to spend the morning arranging flowers.  I expect to do very little of that, but to do more menial tasks.  I'm glad to say that the others involved are all much better at flower arranging than I am - I mean, I'll always have a go, but that doesn't mean I know what I'm doing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Still sliding, but remaining uncut for now

It was cold this morning.  I took the optimistic route, with lightweight trousers and sandals and went out to try the air.  When the Sage came in, merrily saying that he'd already put my bike in his van (two hours early, anyone would think he was looking forward to seeing me leave), I said that I wasn't sure, it was jolly chilly for a nearly six-mile bike ride in quite such a fresh wind.  He said, with carefully disguised reluctance, that he'd run the quirks of driving his van past me and I could borrow it.

Later, I felt guilty about my laziness, so I went and changed into warmer trousers and boots, and fished out a woolly hat, scarf and gloves, and said that I'd bike after all.  Just then, the sun came out (honestly, I'm not making this up).

Of course, downhill all the way turned out to be anything but - for a flat-loving person, Suffolk undulates more than it needs to, but it's notably easier for me to manage now that I've got some strength on my right side.  It was quite pleasant in fact, if you like cycling.  The road was very quiet - I only saw half a dozen cars and a tractor in four miles.  It was still windy, but the sun was warm enough to disregard that.

I stopped at a few shops in town for this and that.  After waiting to be served, I then found that, walking out of the shop, my left leg had a tendency to give way.  I've had that happen before, whenever I take much exercise, either cycling or walking, I'm fine as long as I keep going or if I sit down, but I can't stand still for long.  I can stand, if I haven't been taking exercise, and then walk with no problem.  I don't know why this happens.  It's the very top of my leg, not the knee or the hip.  I assume it'll get better.  The operated side is absolutely fine.  It soon goes and isn't worth fussing about, just noting.

My friend, whom I had lunch with, had her operation a month after mine - her second hip.  She's also doing very well, though still using a stick because her surgeon advises it, but is hoping to be allowed to discard it after tomorrow, when she's got her follow-up appointment.  Tomorrow,  I've got lunch in Norwich.  It's all such a mad social whirl around here, darlings.

It's also Wink's birthday.  Happy birthday, sis!

The Z garden

Today, mostly gardening, all of us.  The ground in the further greenhouse has been getting too built up with the annual addition of ferrrrrtiliser, so when it's watered the water runs off onto and under the paths, so we've taken a few inches off the top.  I'm going to go back to growing tomatoes etc in bottomless pots, so as to channel the watering better again and see how that goes.  The cucumbers will still be planted in heaps of cow manure as the roots need plenty of room to spread out.  Back in the days when I had limited greenhouse space, I used to use growbags, and it was not hugely successful.  The plants would grow apace and need loads of watering, and then one day they would suddenly stop and sulk, and I'd not notice and within a couple more days they would fall over because the roots had got waterlogged.  I didn't ever get to the bottom of it, but I never had more than a month or so of cucumbers before the plants collapsed.  Now, they go on the whole summer.  Though I only sowed the seeds last week, they're only just showing their first leaves.

Some of the removed topsoil has been put on the lawn to replace what's been scratched out by the chickens.  It's still a disaster zone, but at least we're starting to do something about it.  The Sage is enclosing a fresh piece of grass for them to go on while other things recover - it won't be enough for them for long, but they're so ... well, I don't want to say "destructive" as it's so negative, but it's hard to find a better word, frankly.  If only they'd concentrate on the front field for a while it'd be all right - there's nearly 4 bloomin' acres there - 1 1/2 hectares, if that's the way you think - to keep them happy, but they like the garden and the other field.  Still, if push comes to shove I'd rather have happy bantams than a lawn.  I suppose.

Tonight, the Festival Committee, of whose doings I am the scribe, had the splendid idea of holding a meeting at the village pub.  Dilly and I trotted merrily home afterwards, although she'd been on the wagon. She is far more grown-up, in a good way, than I am.

Z's thoughts have legs

You know how it is when you spend ages writing a post and then decide it isn't right and delete it, and then have nothing to write?  Yup.  Me too.  That is, I just have.  I'm still lazing about not doing much - pottering in the greenhouse, doing a bit of cooking, reading, letting the work build up - actually, can't do that much longer.  I'll be sorry if I do.  I've promised two things in the last two days and haven't started on either of them yet, let alone anything else.

Weeza still has my car, as the part that's needed for her car is expensive, and the excellent garage chappie suggests getting one from a breaker's yard instead - which makes sense as her car is as old as mine is.  But it takes longer.  A week or two back, I made an arrangement to visit a friend as I'm taking over from her on a committee and she wants to do a hand-over, and invited me to lunch at the same time.  I gave her a list of dates, and she suggested this Wednesday.  Having accepted, I've belatedly realised that I don't have any way of getting there - it's only 5 or 6 miles away, but there's a hill I'm not prepared to cycle up.  I'll have to borrow the Sage's van after all if Weeza doesn't bring my car back in time.

On the other hand, he could give me and the bike a lift and I could cycle back.  That's a thought, actually.  It might have legs, as they say.

Z is having an Early Night

I haven't managed to identify my handsome spider yet - the one it looked most like in one picture was the false widow, but when I went to the description it said it had cream markings, which this didn't, being smooth and brown all over with a rounded body and red-brown legs.  And it was completely unaggressive, so if it is a false widow, it's probably a male one, females being the stroppy ones who might nip.  British spiders are not dangerous and should never be killed under any circumstances, as it upsets me.  A spider bite doesn't hurt, I've had lots - it's the hunting spiders that might nip and they live outdoors, an indoor spider isn't like that at all and knows its manners.

The first stage of my being defrocked as churchwarden has taken place, with the vestry meeting - the nominated churchwardens have been voted for by the (tiny) congregation.  I put up two hands.  Oh, and I chose the hymns today so I made sure they were very cheery ones with good tunes, one of which was Hyfrydol, which I mention only because it is also a good name.

I am struck, yet again, by how kind people are.  I cheerfully committed us to having lots of flowers in the church next Sunday for a christening, and then had to ask those who actually can arrange flowers to help with them - actually, to do nearly everything.  They are all far busier than I am, but instantly agreed and are really putting themselves out to help.  I'm terribly grateful, and also secretly quite gratified that I have, at last, learned to ask for help, accept offers of help and not feel guilty about receiving kindness that I don't deserve.  If they hadn't been able to, I'd have done it myself of course - but I'm very relieved that it will be done better than I could.  Because the family concerned are lovely - it's the baby's mother's parents who live here, in the nicest house in the village - well, the most beautiful in the loveliest setting.

I've been lazy about cycling - largely because I still don't enjoy it one bit.  But I do need the exercise, largely because I'm getting most awfully chubby.  I really had to be quite resolute in fastening my newly-washed jeans the other day, which was quite dismaying.  Back to the dry toast and plain yoghurt regime.  I made lots of vegetable soup tonight too, which I will eat with an air of complete virtue.   I have glumly cycled into town every day since, as well.  The wind is surprisingly chill when you're out in the open going across the dam (a dam, around here, is a road built across marshland or water meadow) even when the sun is shining.

And now I'm off to bed.  Must be all this fresh air, but I'm frightfully sleepy.

Z doesn't see any spiders, all day, and posts no pictures

Ro called in today, which was a good surprise - that is, he did text first to be sure we were in.  He stayed for dinner; I having luckily bought a pound of mince, which stretched to lasagne for all of us plus a portion for him to take home.  Not that he doesn't cook for himself, and does it very well at that.

He is thinking of buying a smartphone - not an iPhone, probably, although he did rather like mine.  At one point, he was checking out a website that he uses and started to type in its name  - "you're not on the internet, you know" - "eh?" - "go on to Safari first" - "Oh, what was I doing?" - I'm afraid I did a little air-punch and a yes! for a moment there, as it's the first time ever that I've corrected him with anything technology-minded for years.  Twenty years, probably.

"Tell me that you don't want an iPad", he begged.  I admitted that I want one, most passionately.  But, I added, not until it's some use - that is, the second or third issue.  I confessed to being a complete convert to all things trendy, even faux-trendy, since buying my phone.  I have gone over to the dark side.  Worse, I don't care.  Worst, I enjoy it.

I went down to the church to check the flowers.  They are all fine, even the daffodils.  I was watering them when a friend and her daughter arrived.  Daughter is getting married here, where she grew up, in the summer.  We chatted and, when saying goodbye, she mentioned a run her husband is doing tomorrow, which reminded me - "I was excited to hear that one of Rosie Swale-Pope's marathons will be here" - I bought her book telling of her "little" run around the world, last year - it was when I was in Glastonbury, where there was a lovely independent bookshop so I bought a couple of books there.  One, I have already mentioned over at ILTV's place - it's Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, which I was hooked by, and Rosie's was a complete winner too - as is she - in a different way.  Anyway, apparently she will be staying in her camper van overnight at the Staithe* and will be running the Yagnub marathon route - it's half-marathon distance so she will, like those who will be running it the previous weekend, be doing it twice.  I won't join her, but I hope to cheer her on at some point.

*These details for Badgerdaddy, as she is one of his heroes.

Family ties

Thanks for all your help yesterday - you are kind, and far cleverer than I am.

It's been lovely today, Weeza and co came over in the morning and Phil set of on a 50+ cycle ride home (yes, I know, he did it entirely for fun by a circuitous route) and Weeza and Zerlina stayed.  Phil has had a week off work, so little z has turned entirely into Daddy's Girl and, when invited to kiss Granny hello, said "No!" with a dismissive wave of her hand.  "She's doing it to me too, this week," said Weeza with resigned consolation.  z did kiss me later, when I'd curried favour with a Mini Egg.

In the afternoon, Squiffany and Pugsley came here too, as their mother had an appointment with the hairdresser, so everyone had a lovely time.  I'd bought some coloured pencils and writing pads and Squiffany drew lovely pictures for Zerlina and wrote affectionate messages underneath.  Her writing and spelling are very good - she spells things out phonetically, but also understands that not all words are written phonetically, so says "l - o -v - e 'love'" and "y - o - u 'you'" and has very clear handwriting too.  Pugsley is better with numbers than letters so far, and has never been interested in drawing or painting.  Squiff likes numbers too - having a linguist father and mathematician/scientist mother is showing itself.

The death watch beetle is clicking away in a companionable manner.  It's not a big problem, but we do squirt some Rentokill into the walls where we hear noises.  The house has been here more than 450 years, it'll see us out *shrugs*.

I've been happily watching Fred and Ginger on BBC4.  They sang the song that I associate with the Sage - not that he knows that, of course.  We're far too buttoned-up to mention that sort of sloppy nonsense, my word we are (caught him using the 'a' word not so long ago, however - hah!).  Anyway, given that it's not "A Fine Romance", if anyone can work it out, a small prize will wing their way.

Ooh, the other thing I was going to tell you is how lovely it is to sleep for hours and hours until I wake up naturally.  I had no idea how many times I woke up, but now I don't, and if I do I just read on the iPhone and that makes me sleepy again in no time.  I do get backache, as my left-right balance still has not adjusted - I still don't know if my legs aren't quite the same length or if my pelvis hasn't quite straightened yet, but I'm quite prepared to give it six months to right itself - but I wore heels last night and I had no pain or awkwardness at all.  I really wondered if I'd be confined to ground level for the future, but it seems not.

The benefit of being a close family showed itself last night.  I was due to go out to dinner - not only do I belong to a lunch club, but a dining club too - I know, darlings, I am all you think of me! - but Weeza and co still have my car.  So I just asked Dilly if I could borrow hers, as the Sage was going to one of his clubs too and besides, I've never tackled his clapped-out old van.  It's even older than my elderly and rheumatic Mercedes.

I found a spider of a sort I've never seen before in the greenhouse this afternoon.  A big fat brown body, it had, like a well-filled tick, only brown.  I had it amble all over my hand while I took its photo, but some of you are sensitive, so I won't put the pictures up here.  I'll get a spider book from the library to find out its name.  I saw a black and white wolf spider, but this one isn't the same type - it spins webs.

A chance to prove you're cleverer than Z

You're all inventive and intelligent types out there in Blogland.  Can you please put your ingenuity to work for a few minutes to help me?

I grow a lot of vegetable plants, both for Al to sell and for us to grow.  Apart from trays of beans etc, most of them end up in individual pots and, in some cases, there are several varieties that can't reliably be told apart until they fruit.  So I have hundreds of pots to mark.  I can either buy the labels or cut up yoghurt pots, that's not a problem - but it's awfully tedious to write down each variety numerous times.  We all know how lazy I am and, besides, it's the repetitivenous that really gets to me, as I've a short attention span to boot.  I don't mind how many hours I work potting things up, as that's a pleasure, and I don't get bored doing nothing as that is too - it's a boring repetitive task that I can't stand.

The printer ink isn't waterproof, so it's no good typing onto sticky labels.  I have, by the way, written on sticky labels and cut them up to stick straight onto the pots, covering with sticky tape and this did work to a point, but the tape tended to peel off and let water in, so wasn't entirely reliable.  Last year, I tried typing the labels, laminating the sheets and then cutting them up (this is much cheaper than buying plastic labels as you get dozens per sheet), but the moisture in the compost seeped into the paper and washed off the writing.  Cutting up the sheets first and putting them in between the plastic  sheets and then laminating them really isn't an option - impossible to keep them in place and far too fiddly to attempt.

So far, I've still got pots in trays and can just mark one or a few per tray.  But I have to mark them individually before the end of this month.  Buying T-shaped labels and putting the printed label on them isn't an option - for one thing, the ink would still wash off when watered and for another, the labels are too expensive.

Later - Some extra clarification - each pot has to be marked with the name of the variety, or the customers don't like it.  That's fair enough, actually nor would I - if I went and bought some plants, I wouldn't think "but I couldn't be bothered to write labels individually" was an excuse not to have them marked.  I know this, because I tried marking the pots with the initials of the varieties and printing out information sheets, and they liked the sheets but wanted the full variety name written too.

Ro has a laser printer with waterproof ink but he won't waste it on this use.  I'm not buying a printer just for this.   That would be silly.

I have 9 varieties of tomato and 5 varieties of pepper (sweet or chilli) and 3 of courgettes.  I also have different squashes, but I can deal with them, as I plant nearly all that I grow and Al sells the crop later.  So I can keep the varieties apart - but it doesn't actually matter if they do get mixed up.

*Waits hopefully*

Bedblogging

I only remembered that I hadn't written anything as I climbed out of the bath, and now I can't recall the awfully interesting thing that I had, earlier, meant to tell you. What a pity.

Looking at the state of the lawn today rather dismayed me. The chickens have scratched up most of the grass, managing to leave only moss behind. It has acquired humps and dips, I'm not quite sure how. It really needs a lot of work to be done on it, and frankly imnot I'm not the woman to do it. In any case, there's no point while the chooks are roaming free to scratch it up again. I'm trying quite hard to put their interests first - after all, it's only a patch of grass and it doesn't matter that much. And at least there won't be any need to get the mower out.

They are certainly earning their keep at present, anyway. The Sage is very adept at watching them to find out the latest hiding places for eggs. When he spots a hen sneaking off after breakfast, he watches to see where she goes, and later checks out the place. He always leaves a marked egg so that she doesn't become suspicious. Surpluss surplus eggs are sold in the shop - there are tight controls on selling eggs not stamped now, but you're still allowed to sell your owneggs own eggs, as it were. They are very popular at 80p per half dozen.

Excuse poor typing. Can't be bothered to go back and change all mistakes. I'll do it in the morning. Goodnight, darlings.

Flown with indolence and wine

Obviously time I read Paradise Lost again.  Milton taught me more about English than anyone but my Latin teacher.  But I did enjoy the conversation of the fallen angels on the burning lake, especially Belial.  When I do reread it, I will, no doubt, remember why.

I spent most of the day outside, because of the gorgeous weather.  Still breezy, but warmly sunny.  I say outside, but I'm including the greenhouse in that.  I've still got a lot of potting on to do, but I thought I'd let the newly-potted tomatoes have another night in the propagator first and I have run out of room.  I do have another potential propagator, but setting it up just for a couple of weeks would be a nuisance - if there's frost forecast for a few nights I can cope, but another prolonged cold spell will mean some faffing about.  Still, it'll keep me out of the mischief for which I'm normally renowned.

Anyway, as a result of all that sunshine and awfully hard work (all the beds in the veggie garden are now dug [actually, I should admit that I didn't do the actual digging (I'm not allowed to dig yet)]), I'm terribly sleepy now.  I'm being entertained by a programme about Louis Armstrong on BBC4, which includes Hoagy Carmichael, Billie Holiday, Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald and various other delights, and not planning to do much else this evening.

Tomorrow, I'm looking after Squiffany and Pugsley for the day, so that should be fun.  The playground if it's fine, cooking and/or painting if not.  Dave says it's going to rain, and he's so rarely wrong that I disregard the possibility.

Z is Useless

Well certainly, if we were fortunate enough to have a lovely day, I'd be out in the garden.  And if the sun shone a bit, I might spend a couple of hours in the greenhouse.  There's a lot of potting up to do and I will have to do it tomorrow.  I might even be all hearty and energetic and go for a bike ride, if it were not for a chilly wind.  As it is, however, I'm taking the opportunity to do pretty well nothing.  I'm lounging about eating chocolate, listening to Jimi Hendrix and reading.  It's an ideal opportunity, being a Bank Holiday and I haven't the least anxiety that I ought to be doing something useful.

At least I'm awake, which can't be said for the Sage.

I suppose I'm easily entertained.

Weirdos

The day would have been perfect if Weeza's car hadn't broken down.  It all worked out all right - she's vastly appreciative of the RAC breakdown man who came out on Easter Sunday and took it to the garage, and of Ro and his friend who, having just arrived here from Norwich, turned round and went back again to fetch her and Zerlina.

I knew nothing of this until I arrived home from church.  Phil had cycled over so wasn't involved it the kerfuffle.  It didn't actually delay lunch at all, as I'd planned it for 1.30 and they all were aiming to arrive early, so we carried on with the birthday celebrations as soon as everyone turned up.

I forgot to take a picture of the birthday fairy cakes, but they had either chocolate or strawberry icing (some of each, that is, it's not that I've forgotten) and the candles were in the shape of letters, so spelled out "birthday" and the last one said "girl".

Afterwards, most of us went on a health-giving walk over the Three Bridges and across the marsh as far as the weir.  Here is a picture of the weir.  There are pictures of the weirdos, but I suspect permission would not be given to publish them, so sorry.

I checked my diary and I don't need my car for the next few days - actually, as long as I can borrow someone else's in the family on Thursday evening, I don't need it for ten days - so I've lent it to Weeza and Phil.  He had to leave his bike behind, but if he wants it they can always come over and he can cycle back again.  He's got this week off, so he doesn't need it to get to the station.

Hope you're having a lovely Easter, darlings.

Whether the weather

I spent half an hour or so this morning standing still in the cold, talking to someone out in the garden, which wasn't a good idea.  I hobbled back to the house, limping on my *good* leg.  Then I had breakfast, then picked daffodils on the way to the church with the flowers I'd bought, and spent some time doing a flower arrangement and dragging tables around.  I felt a bit fragile by the time Wink and I set off for Norwich.

However, things went swimmingly after that - we fetched Weeza and all went out for lunch, and then shopped for birthday presents.  I'd already got Weeza's present, but it's a bit sensible, though something she wanted, and in the end she plumped for some cosmetics - but she particularly wanted the sort of deal whereby, when you buy two items, you get a nice freebie.  Bonds didn't have anything on offer.  Nor did Debenhams.  However, Jarrolds came up trumps with Lancôme, and in the end I bought lipsticks too, so that I could get my own freebie, because we were all having a jolly time.  I also bought Wink's present, and some of Weeza's favourite chocolate which I could have got locally but forgot on the way to Norwich so had to pay Norwich prices for (ouch) and so I was all shopped out.

By the time we arrived home, I was just in time to get the chicken into the oven for dinner.  I'd planned to make fairy cakes for church tomorrow, but will have to do that in the morning as I didn't care for the thought of cake and chicken cooking in the same oven at the same time - so I've got all the vegetables ready instead.  Most of them, that is, now I think about it.  Champagne and other wine in the fridge, but the table isn't laid.  Oh well.  It'll all happen, and the worst that can happen is that everyone grabs a handful of cutlery on the way to the table.

Sunshine this morning, then clouds, followed by rain, sleet, sunshine again, then a chilly wind before evening mildness.  April weather is entirely dependable.

Typical

So in addition to those sort of evaluations of people's 'types' (that I daresay all you on Facebook do already), like being a Horse, a Bird or a Cow, or the physical ones like Ectomorph, Endomorph or Mesomorph, or else Apple, Pear, Banana or Hourglass for a woman, or else your learning type, known for short as VAK, which is effectively seeing, hearing or doing - Christopher now tells me that the length of your arms relative to your height decides whether you are a square, a rectangle or a gorilla.

It's like that bit in Pretty Woman where it said that your forearm is the same length as your foot, and every woman in the cinema instantly checked it out.  That is - really? oh! who knew?

Anyway, I knew I had short arms because I've never bought a garment with full-length sleeves where the sleeves were not too long.

I shall leave you pondering these matters while I cook Wink's lunch - she's just arrived for the weekend.

Zwinds down for the holiday

Well, the good thing is that Weeza's present, which I only got around to ordering on Monday night, has arrived.  The firm didn't email me to say that they'd despatched it, and since I wasn't here when it arrived, the even better thing is that Dilly happened to be at home to receive the parcel, as otherwise I'd have to go to Norwich to fetch it.

A long morning at school and then over to the crematorium, half an hour's drive away, for the funeral of a lady I never met but whose daughter I've known slightly for many years.  No time in between for shopping for dinner, so we've had fish and chips, which were excellent.  We've got good chippies here anyway, but they got it just right this time and there were only a few pieces left for Tilly.

The sun came out and warmed the greenhouse sufficiently to do the watering.  I also potted up a couple of dozen courgette seedlings.  Next week, all the tomatoes will have to be done.  I hope the weather is better by then, or else I'll have to sort out another propagator.  This can be done and will only take half an hour, but will only be needed for a couple of weeks and hardly seems worth it.

The Head is seeing a new side of me since I took on an extra responsibility and started to not disengage.  He looked slightly hmm when I told him that I'm not taking it at all personally.  I explained how I know - that is, I haven't lost a minute's sleep, unlike when there were the problems at my last school.  But I was a bit on edge at that time, what with one thing and another, and I'm blissfully relaxed now.

Encouraged by Ziggi's example, I bent (straight-legged, of course, or that would be cheating) and touched my toes.  It wasn't easy, I can tell you, which startled me a bit.  Even with a very dodgy hip, I could still touch my toes.  Of course, I haven't been allowed to do so since my operation - I couldn't even put my right sock on for more than six weeks - but I thought it wouldn't be a problem.  I got within about 3 inches and thought that was it, but gravity managed to take over, like coming downhill from the moon (hmm)  and I did the deed.  I haven't demonstrated this ability to the Sage, as I thought that once was enough for today.

Oh, and I've just got my hands on Al's Christmas present - a blow torch for his beehives.  I shall give it to him for his birthday tomorrow and a contribution to his new beehive (a small piece of wax, perhaps?) as a bonus.  He's not very easy to buy presents for, as he already has everything in life that he could wish for (Dilly).

Day job hat on, slightly askew

The catalogue for out next sale in a month's time is up now - linked on the sidebar under 'The Day Job' if you're interested.  The Sage is happily phoning people to tell them all about it.  Listening to him, I found myself muttering "I do love you" - good job he didn't hear, not the sort of thing you want to say to a chap too often.  Have to keep them on their toes.  Remember that there's the one who kisses and the one who proffers the cheek.

Or the two who snog.  Heh.

Anyway, the app I'm working on at present is road signs - actually, I probably should have gone for the whole highway code, but that will come, I think.  I like the learning and testing sorts of apps.  I'm fine with roadsigns, until it comes to unexpected stuff on trams.  Not too many trams in East Angular and how should I know?  Reminds me of driving in Belgium, when all the road signs were in Flemish and I couldn't understand a word of them.

It looks as if there might be a whole family get-together for Sunday lunch, will be highly jolly - a whole tableful of us.  We're having pork, which is splendidly un-Easterish.  In view of the weather, which is bloody awful (though nowhere near as bad here as in many other parts of the country), I hardly think that Spring-like food is quite the thing.  The greenhouse is doing all right, though I haven't opened the propagator, except a corner to check things, for three days.  It all wants watering soon, but a drenching in icy water isn't going to cheer up the seedlings much, so I'll wait until the sun shines for a bit, at any rate.

Most of the veg garden beds are weeded and manured - yes, cutting it fine before planting time.  *Shrugs* - you got an issue with that?  No, of course not.  After all, you're kind.  Aren't you?

If required, Z could Kick Ass, or possibly even Shoulder

I was quite unnerved a few minutes ago when I checked my "to do" list and found that I'd done everything but one item on it.  I've remembered that I haven't written up the notes from two more meetings, however, so that's quite reassuring.  It is, however, quite possible that I will do all those three items this evening, and that will only leave me the things that have cropped up today - one of them I must do today or tomorrow as it's writing a letter of condolence - and that I will be up to date with all office and non-domestic (which includes gardening) stuff before Easter.

No, that is unnerving.  I'm not quite comfortable with not having a deadline on my mind.  Not that I *need* the deadline, but that I'm a bit concerned that I've forgotten something, and that if I've forgotten it this comprehensively that must mean I've shut it out of my mind because I don't want to do it, and it's suddenly going to loom up horrifyingly.

Oh wait, I have got to write up the PCC annual report, which is not due for three weeks but which I do tend to leave until the week of the meeting - that's all right, I've got that reassuring low-level anxiety to tide me over for a while longer.  Unless I just Get On And Do It, of course.

Hmm.

No, I don't know, I might or might not.  I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, I got on and did everything last night, or I thought I did - I remembered one more email after I was in bed, so asked the Sage to remind me for the morning, which he did three times before breakfast - I nearly got a bit snarky about it.  Then this afternoon I wrote up the lengthy minutes of last week's meeting and have emailed it off to the chairman, so it's now her problem to find time to check.

Ooh, there's something splendid in the hip way.  I found the courage for a highish kick and can get my foot up to the kitchen counter again.  That's excellent, but I could do that right up until Christmas, when I wasn't quite able to any more, but what I haven't been able to do for at least three years is get the other leg that high.  The other hip is okay, but it's the flexion that wasn't - well, now I can.  I'm so pleased.  Now I'll work on turning on the light with either foot.  I've actually now got a better recovery even than I hoped for.  I'm not quite there yet - after cycling, my left leg tends to give way at the top, but that's just a matter of building up strength and will happen in the next couple of weeks and really isn't important.  Doing something I didn't think I ever would be able to again is wonderfully happy-making (I'm sure there's a word for it, probably on the lines of felicitous [felicitacious?], but happy is too good a word not to use whenever it's applicable).

I worried Wink into phoning to check I'm all right.  Sorry, Wink.  No one else took me seriously - bear in mind that, if I were really in a state, I'd have rung you to lay the burden on your shoulders already.  Not that the rest of the shit has gone away, but it's not as if I could have done anything about it anyway - and, as predicted, it didn't keep me awake last night.  Actually, I think I had the best night's sleep since early November.