Z is wakeful

 I went to Reading for Carolyn's wake and, beforehand, had lunch with Clare, Tim's neighbour.  She's lovely, a retired music teacher (in a school, not private lessons) who has many interests and is a great person to chat to.  Driving down, I felt anxious, which I had plenty of time to think about.  I was sad about Carolyn, wanted to see Clare and was curious to see what J and S have done with Tim's house, but also emotional about that.  I'm still a mess, really, but I mostly hide it well, both from myself and everyone else.  The truth is that I'm still full of grief and I can't see how I'll ever not be.  But there's no point in dwelling on it.  

The house looks really good.  Clare says they've done a lot inside - it was already great, but nothing much had been changed since Tim and Viv's renovations.  They've taken down the wall between the kitchen and scullery area - it worked well as it was, but I can quite see that it would be equally good to have a single big room.  They've added an en suite to the main bedroom - again, sensible.  Tim always said that a buyer would either split that big bedroom into two or else add a bathroom (the main spare room has its own en suite and there's also a huge bathroom).  Outside, they've put in new windows.  I knew it would happen, though I loved the original 1920s windows, but the window frames needed some attention and, with the old ones in place, only secondary double glazing was possible (and necessary, Tim and Viv very soon discovered).  The scaffolding that is up at present is for the solar panels, a lot of them.  Clare also says what lovely, friendly neighbours they are.  So the house is in very good hands, I'm very glad.

Today, I took Wink to the station, as she's having a couple of days in London.  This evening, I picked up friend Daphne and we went to the local theatre for a live-streaming of La Traviata, which was stupendous.  One can take the singing and staging for granted, but Violetta's acting was out of this world.  It's now 11.15 and I'm in bed, but I can't see myself able to sleep for a while.

Bitter chill it was

 It thawed enough and didn't freeze again, which made all the difference.  I was able to get the car out onto the road.  Wink and Pam didn't come, which I'm glad about, it could have really been a disaster for their health.  I was so cold that I didn't really defrost until I spent half an hour in a very hot bath that evening.

Today, I took eCat for her annual vaccination and checkup, which went well.  She's lost an appreciable amount of weight, to my surprise - I do weigh her food so that Wink and I don't just give her everything she wants.  Then Wink had a dentist appointment in Norwich and I had a contact lens check - luckily, the times gelled.  

I'm most grateful for my eyesight. I always recognise that it could all go awry, but it hasn't yet.  My eyes are still fine - more than fine, for my age.  Last year, I had to have new glasses because the sight in my left eye has improved.  This year, a new contact lens prescription because my right eye is better.  From -2 to -1.75 in each case, so not much and it's just tweaking.  I'm incredibly grateful, though. 

I let eCat out 15 minutes ago, because she asked - obviously, she has a perfectly good cat flap - and it was just starting to drizzle.  I just went to call her in and there's no sign of her, so I suspect she's either whinged at Wink's back door or else used the aforementioned cat flap.  The forecast isn't good, she's not outside in this wind and rain.

And she's just come to say hello, sensible girl.

It really hasn't snowed all that much...yet

 I'm supposed to pick up our lecturer tomorrow morning, but the weather forecast isn't great (this is British understatement) and I'm not confident that I'll be able to get my car onto the road.  Luckily, someone has offered to go to the railway station in my place, so now we hope that there's not enough snow to block the road or the railway tracks.  

Wink was able to get a doctor's appointment this morning - the car got stuck on its way up the slight slope at the end of the drive, I had to reverse and have another go - and she has been referred for diagnostic tests, which is very helpful.  I'm so glad to have a family member who listens to advice, which is more than Russell or Tim ever did.  

Since we were out already, we went to the local supermarket and I stocked up, mostly on vegetables - I will go to the greengrocer next time, I feel quite guilty that they didn't get my custom today.  I also bought a gammon joint and cooked it for lunch today, inviting Wink too.  I usually eat my main meal in the evening, but felt we needed a good meal and the opportunity to relax afterwards.  I scuttled round fetching coal and logs, feeding animals and sorting things out and, once we'd had lunch, had nothing to do but feed the outside cats again, which happened early.  I've upped their rations - I give them a decent helping of GoCat and, usually, 2-3 pouches of cat food in the morning, 3 in the afternoon (for breakfast, they also finish any E-Cat leftovers from the day before).  But now, they're having 4-5 in the morning and 5 in the afternoon and they are glad of it.  They can live on that, if they have to and hunting brings a bonus.  I doubt there's much to find and I'm sorry for the field mice anyway.  No rabbits, the foxes have killed them all.  

I must write to Susie to tell her that, if I can't get my car down the road, I won't be able to get to her dad's funeral.  I will do my best, however, of course.

Z doesn't build a snowman

 And then yet another friend died.  At least the others were all last year, but Valentine died on the 2nd of January.  She was nearly 94 and very unwell, it wasn't altogether unexpected - but it's really cast a dampener on our feelings, with all these bereavements and she was the much-loved matriarch of a big family.  Although she lived here, her funeral was today in Surrey - her mother church is there - and I couldn't go, as I was helping Pam.

Pam has become more frail in the last few weeks and I have told her that I don't think she is strong enough to go to Peter's funeral.  I've also told Wink that I don't think she should go either.  She has a chest infection and is exhausted.  It's too cold for either of them to go from the car park to the church.  They've both listened and taken on board what I've said, though the decision is theirs, of course.  

It hasn't snowed a lot, but each snow shower lies on the last, as it's not thawing, even when it's sunny.  I've doubled the barn cats' rations and am taking out bottles of warm water for them and the chickens.  I've also, sadly, realised that I've finally left my youth behind.  We haven't had any snow for the past few years and so it took me a couple of days to notice that, for the first time ever, I haven't wanted to make a snowman.  This makes me somewhat sad, but doesn't change anything - I'm not in the least inclined to build one.  Going out every day to fill a barrow with logs and get scuttles of coal is quite enough for me.  I hope the weather is good enough for Wince to come on Thursday, when he'll stock us up with enough for a week. 

Instead of frolicking, I've been cooking.  It's probably because the kitchen is guaranteed to be warm, but it reminds me of the winter after Russell died, when I felt the need to cook obsessively, even though I wasn't eating much.  My freezer is very well stocked, with single portions of soups and stews.  It's just as well, because I keep buying a lot of vegetables and something has to be done with them.  

I have just read that a requirement for eye tests for over-70s is to be brought in, to renew a driving licence.  It seems remarkable that this has never been made before, or that it's entirely up to the driver to self-report if they've been advised not to drive.  I have huge sympathy for those who rely on their cars, but I know too many older people who really are not safe to drive, whether because of sight or another reason.  

Never trust a day that seems to go well

 It had been quite a good day, in that I'd done housework - boring but useful - and helped Pam - not boring (I even made her laugh) but also useful.  Wink kindly sorted out the animal feeding and I got home around five o'clock.  She'd seen the car lights, so came through to tell me we were invited to visit friends tomorrow morning.  

I started cooking vegetables and rice for dinner and it was all going well, when I had a brief but devastating email from a friend, to say that his wife died a few days before Christmas.  I'm not a crying person nowadays, but I stood in the kitchen weeping.  I'm unexpectedly devastated.

C had been friends with Tim's wife V since primary school.  C and P married young - they were very open in saying that their first baby was on the way, which was the reason for their early marriage, but it lasted for nearly 60 years.  C had a cancerous mole removed, many years ago, from her leg, but a lump appeared 19 years later on the same vein line in her leg.  The doctors had never known a secondary cancer of that type appear, so many years later.  It was treatable with pills and, though it impacted on their lives, she'd been doing okay.  P also developed cancer a few years later. 

Tim simply adored C.  He looked on both of them as his best friends but she was on a pedestal.  I once said that to them, when I'd been asked round for dinner after Tim died and, as they didn't quite know what to say, I added "until he met me, of course," which broke any awkwardness - which didn't exist for me.  I understood.  She was delightful.  

They're holding a wake in a couple of weeks in Reading.  I'm free on that day, but need to get home the same night.  I tried to phone him, but it went to voicemail, so I've emailed that I'll be there.

Hound Land

I went to Norwich today, to look at curtain material in John Lewis.  I'd already noted down some I quite liked from their online shop - not sure that I've found the right thing yet, I'll keep looking.  Afterwards, I ambled round the shop looking at the stuff in the sale (I bought really dull household items) and, in the space of less than ten minutes, three people passed me with their dogs on leads.  Is this a new thing?  A dog being led round a department store?  They were all well behaved and one looked reasonably happy (I'm not sure a waggy tail is great around shelves of items for sale) but one of them was clearly miserable.  Surely it's better to leave the dog at home or in the car?

I've never come across this before - of course, dogs being walked in the city, but not dragged round shops. I feel sorry for small dogs being taken into crowded places anyway, such as our local street markets, but at least that's in the open air.  Were dogs so indulged during lockdown that, even years later, they can't cope at home alone?

My daughter's family had a puppy during lockdown, in fact.  She grew up with people all around her - can't remember all the Covid timeline, but the children were being home-educated when she was a puppy, Weeza was furloughed and Phil was working from home.  They made sure there was a gradual transition for her and bought a camera to check she wasn't pining.  She wasn't.  It all went smoother than they'd really expected.

These dogs were well behaved, which a lot of lockdown dogs were not, so perhaps it's just a matter of them being considered family.  That doesn't mean that being taken to a busy department store, where a dog is knee-high to a lot of strangers, is a kind way to treat it.  I didn't think much of the first one, but by the third, it seemed to be a trend.

Z relaxes with nothing to do

 It's tranquil, here at the Zedery.  Most of the family came over today, except for Al and co, whom we are visiting tomorrow.  Ro and the children stayed for lunch and the afternoon.   I have done no decorating for Christmas, except for a large piece of gold cloth that's draped over the dining table, and some cards up.  

Eloise cat has finally come back through.  She steers clear when the family turns up - to a degree, that's because she's wary of a lot of people about, but she's normally fine with Ro and co.  It's when E-daughter arrives that she vanishes, because they used to bring their dog, when she was a puppy, and E-Cat hates dogs.  Sadly, that branch of the family is permanently tainted.  No matter, she has Wink's place for refuge, though hunger eventually prevails.  Wink doesn't normally feed her in the annexe, though she does through here.  

Anyway, now that everyone has left, it is very quiet.  I made a salad sandwich for dinner - I'm still not eating much, but I did drink some red wine.  The second glass was too much and I poured half of it back into the bottle (I take the view that I'll drink it eventually, so it's not unhygienic) and I rather wish I had a spare chocolate right now because, while I don't feel undernourished and I'm not hungry, I do feel unsatisfied.  

Still, I have wrapped all the presents except Wink's - gotta have something to panic-wrap at midnight on Christmas Eve.  She's already received her main present, which is Friendship of the National Gallery (you can go to all the exhibitions at no extra cost, without booking - there are various other perks, but they're relatively little use if you don't live near London).  

I remembered a tube of Extra Strong Mints.  I am no longer unsatisfied.

A breach, dear friends and supper

What struck me most in the news today was the breach in the canal in Shropshire.  We didn't go on that stretch, when Mig and Barney kindly took me on a canal holiday in April 2015, but only because we went westwards over the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct into Wales.  A canal breach is always serious and this one was horrendous.  It was the good fortune of one man waking to use the loo in the night, at the right time to realise what was happening, jump off his narrowboat and warn his neighbours, that saved them.  I'm not sure what effect it'll have on boats stranded either side of the breach, they could be stuck for a long time.  

We went to visit Pam this afternoon.  I'm so awfully sorry for her.  Her family seems to squabble among themselves and her and they don't appear to recognise her loss of a husband of 50 years.  As difficult as she can be, she's the one whom all attention and kindness should be focussed on.  Having always been very capable and in charge, she now is very dependent, which is tough to cope with.  She needs to be listened to and helped, not argued with - it doesn't matter if there's a better way of doing something, she's at the centre of the circle and and complaints should go out, not in. 

Look up the circle of grief ring theory - summed up by "comfort in, dump out."  I saw what could happen when my father died, leaving my mother a sudden widow at 46.  "There! Now you'll know what it's like to be lonely!" is not the thing to say.  Nor "sell your big house and move to a nice little bungalow in Worlingham." I didn't get any of this, in fact, I didn't seem to attract unkindness.  Nor kindness, for the most part.  Numbered fewer than the fingers on one hand were local friends who asked me round, in the first year after Russell died.  Blog friends did considerably better and are so much loved - they already were, but appreciated even more.

If a friend is widowed, please ask them over.  Invite another couple or a few more friends, nothing to challenge but don't try to match up.  Within the first year, they may not notice, but after that they'll feel it's an attempt to pair with another single person.  Just include them, relaxedly.  They'll be incredibly grateful and may tell you so, years later.   Just a kitchen supper is fine.

Z seems to be too darn hot - just temperature, though

 I haven't been very well for the last few weeks.  I've tried to ignore it but I am finally acknowledging it.  

It started, early in the month with a threatened cold.  I didn't have time for a cold, so I took Lemsip and carried on and that seemed to be okay.  The two days we had in London were tiring, so being too tired for dinner and going straight to bed in the early evening, three days running, seemed understandable too.  The aching head - not a headache, my entire skull - and the aching jaws, so I couldn't eat chewy food, weren't that bad, because I was too tired to eat much anyway.

Just a virus, I assumed, which may well be right.  Not terribly likely to be cancer, weight loss is understandable because I'm hardly eating and the symptoms seem too sudden.  Glandular fever?  I've looked it up.  It might fit, actually.  Except, I've not knowingly absorbed anyone's saliva for well over four years. 

Anyway.  I'm not planning to snog anyone, so I'm not infectious.  But I slept all afternoon, having slept ten hours last night and been in bed for twelve.  My right lower jaw is tender, as if I've been punched.  I don't feel especially ill but, according to my watch, my night time heart rate and temperature have been appreciably raised for the last couple of weeks.  I'd just ignore it all, but I have a scheduled blood donation for the 2nd January and I think I'd better postpone it.  

When I'm not asleep, I'm sitting around reading, so there's that.

It's the season, so Z will be jolly

 Things don't get completed and I don't want to whinge, so I say nothing.  That is, I say nothing here, my sister and I, for different reasons, enjoyably whinge to each other and sympathise, so that job is done without adding to anyone else's burdens.  

Wink is away at present, having gone to Shaftesbury (near where she used to live) for a funeral.  She's glad that she saw her friend in September, because they hadn't been together since before lockdown - Wink moved in December 2020 and there had not been an opportunity earlier.  She was in her 90s, but so vibrant that it's hard to take in.

I'm off to Pam this afternoon again, for the third time in a week - Christmas is just having to look after itself - and hope to help with some necessary paperwork.  I scanned various papers onto my computer and have emailed them to her, so that they can go on hers, not that she can use it.  Understandably, she wasn't interested and Peter was happy to look after things, so she never learnt.  

We went to London last week, which was excellent.  I've been meaning to go to the Wallace Collection, not having visited for some years.  Then I read that Caravaggio's fantastic Cupid is on loan from a Berlin museum, so it was a good moment.  It's a terrific painting, of course and it's just right there, without any barriers, in this most civilised of museums.  We didn't spend a lot of time on the rest of the collection, so will have to go another time.  Then my friend who's a picture frame expert took us to the National Gallery to tell us about the really amazing work the framing team has been doing and also the complete rehanging of the paintings that took place this year, following the refurb of the Sainsbury's wing.  

Next day, we went to the Tate to see the Lee Miller photo exhibition and the Turner/Constable exhibition that celebrates the 250th anniversary of their birth.  I can very much recommend both - allow plenty of time, because they're both sizeable exhibitions.  We will have to go back, because there was a fire alarm when we'd only been there 40 minutes or so and we had to trudge outside, wait for half an hour and then very slowly were allowed back in again.  We knew immediately it was just a drill, as the fire brigade didn't turn up.  I suppose these things are necessary and there's never a good time, but we were fairly pissed off, as our time was limited by the time of our train back.  

Two big exhibitions in one morning were a lot, but we'd planned to stop for coffee and there was no time for that, but never mind.  We will just plan another jolly.

But now, I'm making toasted cheese and then will head off to see Pam.

When Z gets old and losing whatever (I count on keeping my hair)

 I'll say cautiously, it's okay this week, so far.  One friend, not even one I'd mentioned, who'd had various physical problems for most of the last 18 months, increased in the last 3, was tested for cancer (not directly linked with anything else she'd had) last week and has been cleared.  So that's one piece of fantastic news.  

A wonderful lecture this morning, very well received and people already want to have her again.  The great thing about booking lecturers is that I get a lot of the credit.  People thank me!  I've done nothing except book them.  I do go to a lot of trouble and research thoroughly and make every effort to get everything to go well, but that's not the point, it's the person and their delivery that matter.  I belatedly filled in the report forms for the autumn lectures and gave three outstandings and an excellent, which was absolutely to their credit.  If there's any extent to which I get any credit for recognising potential, it just shows I'm a background person and I'm fine with that.  

I'm picking Pam up tomorrow and taking her to her house, to fetch some papers.  She'd asked one of her offspring, who's really busy.  Actually, I'm really busy too, but I prioritise and Pam is my friend.  I'd prioritise her more than anything else if she were my mother and I lived only 10 miles away.  But I also recognise family conflicts over many years and taking sides isn't my business.  I just think that one needs to do the right thing or else walk away altogether - which may well be justifiable.  I rather hope that I'll never be so much despised by my children.

I don't know if I'll have a long life - I've already outlived a short one, but I don't have expectations.  All I hope is that, if I'm destined to be an old woman, I'll be a lovely one.  Kind and willing to listen and praise.  It's honestly all I really want in my old age, if I get there.  Although 72, I don't count myself there yet.  

Z's fine, but how are you?

 Srsly, this is all getting a bit much.  It started with M's planned foot operation, so just a bit of hospital driving there.  But that friend hadn't had quite enough drama and became bored after a few weeks, so she climbed on a stool to put something on top of the wardrobe ... and then couldn't get down, so she jumped.  One foot in a splint and a surgical boot, the other knee in a brace.

Another friend had a new hip after a fall, more than a year ago and it's never quite been the same since, but she somehow jarred the other hip and now can hardly walk.

Mother of the bride in the Mexican wedding back in March has broken her hip.  It was the smallest fall, but an awkward landing and she has been in hospital for a fortnight, because she already had other complications, as well as very low blood pressure.

Friend in America has a dropped foot, following some nerve damage during a tricky back operation (that op was a success, but recovery is taking a while).

Kent schoolfriend fell off a stool while hanging up the washing and hurt her wrist, which had been broken while she was in Italy earlier this year.  It's okay, she's had it checked, but she's bruised and in pain.

Then it got worse, because my friend who had a stroke back in February has died.  It was unexpected, though his condition had deteriorated in the past few months, since he left rehab.

And a friend of Wink's, down where she used to live, died today.  Zellah must have been at least 90, but she always seemed to be at least 15 years younger.  Wink saw her back in the summer, after a break of a few years, which she's glad of, but she's very upset.

Wink is hoping to visit her Indian friend in the spring, but the daughter says, carefully, to buy a refundable ticket.  So we're rather bracing ourselves.

We're fine, thanks for asking, but it's all getting rather nerve-wracking.  We're wondering what the next bad news will be.

Bless us, every one

 Nothing gets less complicated.

We were taking friends to the local theatre to see a one-man performance of A Christmas Carol.  I love this story.  You might think it's mawkish (God bless us, every one) but it really isn't.  It's lovely.  It's kind and true and heartfelt and, though I recognise that I'm getting more sentimental as I get older, I'm holding to that.  It says that people matter most and I know that's true.

Having said that, one has to know that oneself is a person.  Sometimes, everyone comes before oneself and that isn't good.

After the CC, our friend came home for the night - she was in an even worse state than the last time we saw her wearing her surgical boot.  She'd managed to mash the other knee too.  I won't go further, except to say that, when she said it had been her own fault, we didn't argue.

I have car problems.  Not saying more about that as yet - if ever - because I don't want to raise my blood pressure with a rant.

Other stuff too, including a message from the person who was going to cut the roadside hedge last week, to say his tractor was out of action and he couldn't do it.  I'm a bit dismayed and trying to find someone else.  And the guy clearing the beck pointed out that he couldn't clear round 'that' tree, covered in ivy, because it's plainly dead and, if it falls one way it'd go onto electricity cables and, on the opposite, onto phone cables.  There are two other directions, so I've asked friend Rob for advice.  I have Tom up my sleeve.

Today, more Stuff and then I went to the weekly antiques talk.  I had several calls - luckily, I hadn't forgotten to silence my phone.  But I didn't get back to S. until 3 pm - she's the daughter of Pam and Peter, whom I've mentioned.  Peter had a serious stroke back in February and they moved to a care home a few weeks ago.  Unexpectedly, Peter has died - that is, I had sadly recognised that he would not live all that long, but not that he was so ill.  But he hated the thickener that he had to have with drinks and avoided it whenever he wasn't watched and, getting liquid into his lungs as a consequence had caused pneumonia.  I have no comment on whether that should have been picked up, because I genuinely don't know.  But he was too frail for breathing problems.  

As soon as I spoke to their daughter, I went over to visit Pam.  I stayed until Susie arrived.  I've emailed her with good advice (re funeral etc) but said she's welcome to ignore it, which I mean.  Russell died just over three weeks before Ronan's wedding and three days before a holiday weekend, so I had to crack on with arrangements.  It's no disrespect.

Another friend texted me yesterday to say that she broke her hip a fortnight ago and is still in hospital.  I plan to visit in the morning.

Another friend, with several health problems, has now told me that she may have cancer and is having tests shortly.  I'll email her next.

If you have been, thanks for listening.  And if you are relatively well, as I am, let us all be grateful and help those who aren't.  

Z waffles as if it's the old days

I felt a little alarmed when I realised the date.  But the C-word date is inexorable and it doesn't really matter whether I feel ready for it or not.  In any case, I've got a social life to sort out before that.  Today, we're having lunch with friends in Norwich - they're really my sister's friends, but I'm the driver of the family and so she can't go without me.  My car is back in the garage, though.  

For some months, various warning signs came up when I started it.  These were just notifications that alerts didn't work - but they did, so it was evidently the warnings that were faulty.  It started up as an occasional fault and then increased in frequency, but it took me a while to get around to having it looked at.  Finally, it was sorted out in September except for one, which was about the electric traction system and that notification, it seems, was a known fault and would be replaced free.  Six weeks later, the part finally came in and I was lent a car while mine was being dealt with.  The replacement car was enormous.  Both much wider and longer than mine, also electric - it was actually a pleasure to drive, but I felt ostentatious and was glad when I returned it.  It was also a problem to park, as it needed so much space.  But it has been good not to have warnings pop up any more - until Friday evening, when it happened again.  So I phoned the garage - this time, someone came over to fetch the car, so I'll use the other one when we go out.  So nice to have the car picked up, just like the old days when lovely Graham from Charlish's used to offer.

However, we've had a lot of frost since I last drove the BMW and I'm not quite used to a reliable battery on it, so I think I'm going to take it for a spin now, rather than risk having to jump start it when we're due to leave.  I hope that 'spin' won't be literal, as - for complicated reasons that I'm sure I've explained before - it has summer tyres on it, so I don't usually take it out much in winter, though last night's frost has lifted.

I'll have time for shopping when we get to Friday afternoon, I think.  I wonder what people would like?

Ladies who lunch

 My mother and a group of friends used to meet for lunch once a month in Norwich and this has kept going, as a semi-formal club, since 1988.  Now, I drive several friends there, who are of an age to have given up driving.  

I told the tale once of, at about this time of year, asking Jo what she and her sister Lilian were doing for Christmas.  "We're going to die over Christmas," she said casually.  I blinked.  "Say that again, darling?" "We're going to Di for Christmas," she repeated.  "Oh, that's lovely," I said, while Rose, in the back of the car, tried not to laugh (she's been laughing about it ever since, though).  Anyway, Jo did die in the end, of covid, in December 2020 but I still drive Lilian over for lunch - she's now about 97.  I also drive Diane, who is 89.  Both still very sharp of mind, but becoming sadly prone to anecdotage.  

I woke up just after 6.30 this morning, which was an excellent time to sleep to, but my pleasure lasted less than a minute before I realised I was developing the aura of a migraine.  Luckily, I knew I had some pills in the next room - I usually keep them in my handbag, for emergencies - and went straight to get them, then stayed in bed until they worked.  But I did feel a bit out of sorts all day, so perhaps that's why the same stories they talk about every month were a little harder to take this time.  I nodded and smiled and responded in all the right places as usual, but my heart wasn't in it.  

But there was good news this evening.  Another of our number found a lump on her jaw and, as she had been treated last year for cancer, this was very worrying and she had plainly assumed that today's tests would bring bad news - she'd given permission for us all to be told.  But Doreen phoned this evening to tell us that Ann has rung her to say it's just a cyst.  It's just a cyst, nothing more.  So maybe I'd been grieving, in advance of expected bad news and that also fed my irritation.  Luckily, I hadn't shown it.

All the stories are good the first time, but not necessarily the 50th.  All the same, I feel churlish.

Z almost feels optimistic, but that's always a mistake. Realistic mild pessimism is safer

 I think I'm making progress.  The trouble with a to-do list is that new things keep coming along that have to take priority, so it's not so easy to keep track.  But I have done a few things that have been hanging over me for a long time, so there's some satisfaction there.  I've actually got a more complicated life than one might think to look at me and I can't always cope, even with essential business stuff that, if left, gets more complex.  Anyway, I'm cautiously satisfied with progress over the last week or two.

Today, a friend had invited us over to see his lovely china collection - there were four guests altogether and probably I was the most involved with china, though we all appreciated it.  He's been collecting since 1963 - his wife has collections too, mostly antique fabrics and costumes.  They are lovely, very hospitable and we enjoyed the morning very much.  Then this evening, I went to the next village's gardening club for a talk about bulbs from a very knowledgeable man from Lincolnshire, who's won lots of national awards for daffodils and whose company has huge expertise in bulbs, corms, rhizomes, tubers and whatever other bulb-esque things there are.  

The company I'd written to at 5.15pm with a query replied at 8.15pm, which was very impressive.  Another company, in a similar field, that had been excellent a few years ago, required two emails for every reply, so they have lost out on quite a lot of business from me as a consequence. 

Tomorrow, a lecture in Norwich about the period, 100+ years ago, when Russian and European monarchies were collapsing and their jewellery was bought by wealthy Americans.  Then lunch, then a hospital appointment for Wink.  She is incredibly stoical about her eyesight problems, for which she is getting exemplary treatment by the hospital in Norwich.  The NHS gets plenty of flak, some of which is deserved but, at its best, it's still superb, caring and proactive.  I'm very grateful for my good eyesight - I get my eyes tested annually to be sure that any (so far non-existent) problems are picked up early - another thank you to the NHS, which pays for it.

Thursday, a monthly lunch with friends, when we pick up several people who no longer drive, Friday is the very entertaining antiques club - yes, we're all fairly antique ourselves, but we are regaled with a lecture on, this term, porcelain, by a fabulous and very knowledgeable chap, every week.  And then home to wait for Glen to fit the last bit of kitchen flooring - he ran out of materials for underneath the dishwasher.

Craig is still mending the roof.  No more water is running down the walls.  I have not yet washed the streaks off the walls. Maybe tomorrow, but more likely on Friday.

I went to the greengrocer for tomatoes, became excited and spent £32.01.  It's a good thing that I don't often buy clothes and other extravagances.  

Fridge soup

 For no reason that I could think of, I wanted to cook today.  So I've made two batches of vegetable soup and a tomato and onion sauce.  Usefully, I've used up most of the vegetables in the fridge and, as I've frozen most of the soup, I can eat straight out of the freezer for a while.  Not that I couldn't have already.  Trouble is with turning out freezers is that you find things that you'd conveniently forgotten - such as the shin of beef that I took out and made into a casserole for Thursday night.  We had a friend coming to stay for the night.  So the three of us ate it on Thursday - and I've frozen five more helpings.  I also made mashed potatoes (and other vegetables, of course) and I'm still eating those.  Tonight, I made a potato cake and fried it, serving it with sugar snap peas, sprouts, the tomato sauce and two fried eggs.  

Ever since reading about someone's granny who, apparently, asked what were man get out peas, I've been unable to think of mange tout or sugar snap peas as anything else.  

I like playing with words, but it was my father who enjoyed mangling sayings or aphorisms or proverbs, or any sort of phrase.  When things turn unexpectedly crowded, with a queue of people turning up at the house, I think "close the doors, they're coming through the windows," though it's completely meaningless - which, I suppose, it what appeals.  "Fingers were made before thumbs" is true, but not the actual saying.  "In and out the windows, like Uncle Weewee did" was a family anecdote, so perhaps it doesn't count.

I was reminded of him the other day.  I was typing up a probate valuation - the helpful family member had typed out the description of the china, so I only had to add a few details and the prices - and he'd not found it easy to make out his late mother's writing and had, at one point, typed 'coronation' for 'carnation.'  Which reminded me of an election day, when Daddy had said, "with a liberal amount of labour, we'll put the coronations in the conservative".  And that's not, now I look at it, any sort of anecdote about him at all, unless you know that Mr Weavers, our gardener, was a Mrs Malaprop of his day.  And he'd talked about doing just that; potting up the carnations to save them from the oncoming frost.  Eh.  You had to be there.  Maybe I'll remember his other straight-faced funnies and they'll actually mean something to other people.

There's always another rainbow, as Ogden Nash put it

 Wince called round this morning and he's told me that there's been an outbreak of avian flu within ten miles of here.  The chickens are all kept in their run now of course, but I think I will keep them in the smaller area, though they won't be pleased with me.  I had a new henhouse built, nearly ten years ago and the outside run is about 3 metres square, or 10 feet if you're of that persuasion (of course, the measurements don't exactly equate but I don't know which is closer) and I've got an extension to that, same width and twice as long.  But the wire netting on top of the larger area is bigger and small birds can fly through - certainly their droppings could drop through.  When I went to say goodnight to them just now, I fed them mealworms and then nipped round to shut off the doorway, but bindweed had grown over and I couldn't remove it.  I had to go back into the main run and pull the weed away, by which time a couple of bantams had ambled through again.  So I've left it.  I may remember later or I'll do it tomorrow.

I don't legally have to shut them in, in fact, as I don't sell the eggs (I wouldn't be allowed to give them away either, if I did let them free range) but the last thing I want to do is risk them being ill.  I've only got 8 left and I've started to pass the word round that I'd give a good home to a young cockerel.

Since dear old Scrabble's death at the age of 10, a fox has killed two more, so I wasn't going to let them out anyway and I am considering a simple way to enlarge the outdoor run for next year.  It doesn't matter how big their run is, they eat the grass down to the roots and all they have is a dusty or muddy patch.  

I don't suppose I'll mention the kitchen situation again until it's finally completed and that will be a fortnight or more yet.  I will wait until I see J in person before having a frank discussion - he'd been on leave because he was moving house and it's apparent that no one picked up the reins and a new door is being awaited, but that's because they sent the wrong size in the first place.  A should have reported this as soon as he realised, two months ago.  I'm not discussing it on the phone or by email.  And I honestly can't be bothered to explain myself here either.  I'm so very despondent and this is a place to be upbeat.

I was going to order a new fridge to match the new upright freezer, but this will wait.  I've moved the smaller fridge from the porch into the ex-study, now nameless part of the kitchen and, once it's settled and switched on, I'll empty the contents of the bigger fridge into it and move that.  It's getting tedious, going out to the porch every time I want anything.

Anyway, I need to get back to lighthearted blogging after this.  So I won't even mention the water running down the walls yesterday.  Z wants to be happy (yes, there is always a song in my head.  All that's said or does reminds me of a song and I've usually got a quote or two in there too).  I have lit 3 candles - this isn't a religious thing, I just find candles calming - and I'll light the fire and make myself a nice cup of tea.

Z replies to comments

Thank you for asking about the kitchen, I'll answer here rather than in the comments.

I have not heard from A as yet and I'm going to have to bother Magnet as he's employed through them.  He won't get paid anything until they're happy, as well as me, with the standard of the job.  This doesn't seem to bother him.  This will include removing all the debris.  I don't know that he's lazy so much as casual and inconsiderate.  He got married over the summer apparently and I feel sorry for his wife.

I'm really thrilled with the tiles, they're lovely.  I've kept the Aga and they're on the wall behind it, as well as on the windowsills each side.  Photos will come, but not until everything is finished.  The Corian worktop chap was excellent and all is well there.  A slight misunderstanding about the sink (I can't remember if I'd mentioned this) - when the first Corian man came to do the template, he said that I was having a large and a small sink, which wasn't right, I'd chosen two the same size.  He pointed out that the unit wasn't big enough.  So I said, so it isn't and okay to the large and small.  I checked later with Jonathan, who said that somehow they'd thought I'd wanted a very large sink and that was the reason there wasn't room for two, and that the order had been correct - but by this time, the large and small one were already in place.  And this was fair enough, a minor mistake really as the big sink is useful.  A whole Aga roasting tin fits in it easily.  And I did mostly use one sink.  It's easier to decide to like it than to mind about an error that, on balance, might turn out to be a good thing.  

I'd been doubtful initially about having mostly drawers rather than cupboards, but it seems to be a good decision.  Since they pull right out, nothing will get lost at the back.  And I'm keeping half a drawer for the sort of stuff that I use frequently but which cause clutter, like seasonings, the butter dish and so on.  I even tuck bread into a drawer, so I don't need a bread bin on the counter top.  Since I have a lot of appliances, anything that reduces other clutter is a help.

The best decisions are not specifically about the new kitchen units.  I love the doorway.  I also am very pleased with having moved the contents of the broom cupboard to the old larder - which needs some sorting out already, as I've been dumping things there.  The bins being in the old broom cupboard is another welcome declutter and there are some useful shelves in there, where I keep cat food, bin liners, a torch, spare light bulbs and that sort of thing.  In addition, I cleared out cupboards in the cloakroom to make room for things out of the kitchen and I'm going to carry on using them for bigger dishes and saucepans that I don't use regularly.  Usefully, as the doorway to the other room doesn't have an actual door, so one can see through to the part of the kitchen between the sink and the end of the room where the Aga is, I'll have to keep that area tidy.  I do like to have things I use regularly to hand, however, so I'm going to have a shelf all along that area, for storage jars and so one.  If they're there for a purpose and look attractive, I won't count them as clutter.

Mago, you're right about the pieces that didn't sell so well at the auction.  It was noticeable that the most common patterns in the most common shapes (common is no sort of an insult, just as potatoes and onions being common vegetables just means the most usually popular ones) were fetching lower prices or not selling.  No one wanted a nice tea bowl and saucer in the dollshouse pattern, for instance.  It's just one of those things, I don't think there's any great significance.  That rarer patterns and shapes went well is encouraging, everyone knows that there will always be a chance to buy a dollshouse piece but you can't always find a dromedary on a raft (this pattern is one of the quainter prints).  

There are some shapes that are always liked, such as sparrow beak jugs.  This are simply small, upright cream jugs with a sharply pointed pouring lip, like a sparrow's beak.  They're pretty, easy to display on a shelf and come in lots of different patterns.  The exact size and shape varies - some are more rounded, some slimmer, they may be a little smaller or larger than average, but they look good on a shelf in a cabinet.  A few collectors like to build up a tea or coffee service in one pattern, but it's not the most usual way to build up a collection.  I know one person who mostly buys saucers, from all the 18th century factories, mostly in blue and white.  He's become a great expert on the subject and has written a very useful reference book, the second edition having come out this year.

Z's kitchen is nearly usable

 I spoke too soon about my resignation from all things educational.  For legal reasons, it'll be simpler if I carry on until the end of the school year.  Of course, it's fine - though now I'll have to do the online training.  I'll look it up today and maybe manage some of it this evening.

The auction went really well and was a delightful occasion.  It was just so good to have enthusiastic, friendly people there - one pleasure has always been that knowledgeable people are very happy to explain details to newcomers - and there were more people in the salesroom (and bidding) than has been the case since before Covid.  Prices are not what they were, but that's great for collectors.  

A the fitter, having said he'd come on Tuesday and then that he'd send D on Tuesday afternoon, finally rocked up at 5.30 on Friday, having had a tart reminder that there were things he needed to do before Ed the Corian fitter turned up on Monday morning.  And then there were a couple of minor jobs he hadn't done, one of which Ed did and another that A came to finish later and told me he'd fixed the Corian in place in that spot.  When Scott the decorator came along, turned out that he hadn't.  He'd done half the job but I'd put spices in the drawer he needed to take out and, for no reason I can think of, he didn't ask me to move them. So I did, Scott fixed the worktop and then carried on painting the kitchen.  Shaun the plumber spent a day here doing both his own job and A's.  The electric socket needs to be put in place and then I can use the dishwasher.  I told Steve the electrician that there was no hurry, whenever he has time.  Now Glen the flooring guy is on his second day doing the floor - it's two rooms plus the lobby. Then A needs to do a few finishing touches and remove all the rubbish that's been building up outside over the last two months - no point in removing some of it, it's not in the way.  Finally, the new water softener will be fixed, I think that's the week after next, but I need to phone and check.  Scott will come back and put up some shelves, when I've decided on their height.  

Taking everything out of the study and putting it wherever there was space has finally confused me completely.  I can't find anything any more.  Everything has been moved too many times.  However, one adapts.  I found orzo when I couldn't find pasta and a sieve when I couldn't find a colander.  I know where the plates are, but I have to just wash and reuse two of them, because there's a chest of drawers in front of the cupboard.  I realise that I don't know where I'm going to keep everyday glasses, so they're in a drawer at present.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen looks bigger, both because it's lighter and because I've moved the dresser out.  And the fridges.  I can't focus on how I like it all until it's finished, I don't want to think about that yet.  I know I love the doorway through to the ex-study.  I don't know what furniture I'm going to have in there yet and I've a horrid feeling that I don't have the exact table that I want. For now, I'll just use what I already have.  

The family - most of them - will come over on Saturday for supper and quiet fireworks.  We don't think it's fair to make a lot of noise when it isn't Bonfire Night, on 5th November.

I'm still doing the auction accounts.  I pride myself on paying everyone within a week of the auction, but I've slipped this time.  I'll get it done by close of play tomorrow.