In Which Fred Narrowly Avoids A Bath

The day started off horribly wet and cold. Pigs had a duvet day. It was Pippin's first full day of freedom since her horrible accident and she enjoyed it. She actually chose to spend time in her cage although the door was left unlocked so she could leave when she wanted. 

I went shopping before I picked up the girls and bought a new bed for Judy and another clothes airer. Since the rise in electricity prices, I have decided to drastically cut down the use of the tumbler dryer. The drive to empty the big freezer is going slowly - too slowly. I managed to stew some raspberries and whitecurrants today and made a plan for rhubarb and ginger jam. There is a strange fish in there which I intend to defrost tomorrow. 

Evie arrived covered in mud, something to do with falling on the grass. I was reminded of Fred, who turned up the other day absolutely clarried in muck. I couldn't understand how it had happened. The muck didn't smell foul but it had an oily quality to it and wasn't easy to get off his fur. Brushing it out made a start and the rest of it dried out and disappeared after a couple of days. That old boy is too old to be bathed. He would despise it.

After discovering a lot of fur (that flew) in the woodshed, Bert reckons he had a territory fight with another cat. Recently Fred has been spending a lot of time there and it's likely there is a nest of ratlings in there, somewhere. The rival cat must have tumbled him into the resiny, sludgy effluent that runs off the logs. But no harm done, he's fine now, spending more time indoors and tolerating Pippin following him everywhere he goes.

At the end of the evening, Martha showed me how to edit my videos and in return, I gave her a masterclass on the history of popular music from The Monkees to the Pixies. The only tracks she knew were Monkey Goes to Heaven and Smells Like Teen Spirit. Next week she is going to teach me how to suck eggs.

In other news, I discovered I have five of the Cazalet Chronicles and have started reading number one. Sadly. two of the five were duplicates and they are already donated to the Tesco charity bookshelf. I think I'm going to enjoy this reading adventure.

Throughother

A long time ago I had a friend whose home was in total disarray. Phyll was a single woman with four children and, at that time, her youngest was only a baby. Her house was always extremely untidy and cluttered and that made it very hard to clean up. Most days she did her best. Four children made for a lot of laundry and that alone took up most of her day. Like myself she could not afford an automatic washing machine or dryer so she depended on an old fashioned twin tub and washing lines and dryers. So - what with the laundry and the cooking and looking after the baby she had little time for anything else.

My sister and I persuaded Phyll to take a holiday. We thought it would do her good. It was early summer and she and the baby went to stay with another friend in the west of Ireland. While she was away I was to look after the her children.

As usual my friend left her house in a big mess – filthy kitchen, mountains of laundry, untidy bedrooms and dirty floors. I had plenty of free time during the day while all the children were at school so decided to tackle her washing pile. The weather was fine and perfect for outside drying. I started carrying loads of washing over to my house . It was easy enough to run them through my twin tub but soon I ran out of washing line space. My next door neighbour noticed how much laundry I was doing and jokingly enquired if I was taking it in. I told her that was exactly what I was doing. She kindly offered me the use of her line and when Jean, my other neighbour, saw me hanging laundry on Dorothy's line she offered me the use of her line as well.. By this time the kids were home from school and we had quite an assembly line going. They'd haul the laundry to me in baskets – I’d wash it and peg it out on my three lines and we'd all help to fold the stuff when it dried.

When that was done we became enthused and decided to clean the entire house. For the next couple of days we cleaned, decluttered and polished. Everyone helped, even the youngest boy who was only about five or six. I even fixed the broken down refrigerator. All that it needed was a new fuse.

Beds were changed, everything was polished and on the day that Phyll was due to return I’d lit a fire and filled the living room with flowers from my garden. She was to be back late so the children were spending a last night with me. Phyll had enjoyed the break. And instead of going over to her shining house (I hadn't told her) she sat chatting and drinking cup after cup of tea. I was enjoying our chat but itching for her to see her house and hoping that the fire wasn't out. At last she decided to go home and I walked over with her. Her delight when she saw what we'd done was wonderful. She couldn't believe it! She literally jumped for joy!

I sometimes recall the joy I felt at Phyll's pleasure. Soon afterwards, she fell out with me and, despite our eventually making up, our friendship was never the same again. But even that doesn't dim my happy memory. nor does it spoil it when I remember that within days Phyll's house was well on the way back to its usual disorderly state.

With the help of her children and some friends we cleaned her house. She was more than pleased, it gave me a lot of happiness. That's enough.