Eight Things That Happened Today

 It's only just gone 6pm so who knows what I might still do before this day draws to a close but anyway, it's Saturday night and I this thing needs to be put to bed.

1. Got up at sparrow's first fart, drew jeans over a voluminous Victorian-style nightdress, put a coat on, a mask, dragged a comb through my snowy mane and headed to the New Garage to buy a paper. This is not the experience it once was. No Darwin to have the craic with, just a soulless trek to the newspaper stand, then off to the self-service till, five pounds in, thirty bob out, no human contact whatsoever. It does have its charms.

2. Back to bed with coffee and the news. A ponder on my early morning dream which was all about the day before my return to university as a (very) mature student. I had two essays to write but partied instead. 

3. I'm up again and Ben emerges before I complete my 30-minute chore blitz. We chat about the previous night when we entertained ourselves YouTubing on everyone from Willie Drennan to Robert Plant and Tricia Moriarty ft. Naoise Casenove. Ben was very impressed with Tricia's music and I was unimpressed with the mullet Plant sported in his Big Log days.

4. Bert's up now and after a small breakfast, they head to the long shed to play with Bert's new air rifle. Apart from the clarinet, that's all Bert has done this week, playing with guns and bows and arrows with various of his friends aged from twenties to sixties. Adulting is over-rated.

5. Ben's girlfriend arrives then the Banjos. Jazzer is staying Marty is not. 

6. Jazzer and I inspect the meadow. It does look rather boring. Creeping buttercup making an appearance, a few docken plants coming to the fore. I scattered corn marigold seeds  around the edges. Just one patch taking hold will make me happy. I still haven't sowed the yellow rattle.

7. Jazzer has made a chilli. She has omitted beans, says she does not like them.

8. We have had the annual (?) reappraisal of our connection. There is a lot of birthday wine and chocolate. All is well.

10 Things I Did Today

This blog post is a steal from Ganching for I really do need some inspiration to keep this blog on the road. You do know that this Brexit shambles has a large number of people suffering from low spirits, despair and bad nerves? I am one such person and it is even affecting my night's rest. This morning I was awakened (by a dog) from a dream where a hot young priest was being fed into a hospital incinerator. Mind you that particular dream might have been more to do with Fleabag than Brexit.

So, the ten things.

1. Got up at 7 o'clock. Which was really 6 as my body is not yet used to British Summer Time. Why? Dogs.

2. Went to Newtownabbey and picked kitchen tiles with Hannah's assistance.

3. Sowed four different kinds of sunflower.

4. Watered the polytunnel

5. Went for a short walk.

6. Sat staring at the computer screen in silent despair as I realised that's all I actually did today because cooking supper barely counts as it was only mince and onions which is one of Bert's favourites.

Then...

7. Thought about charging my phone.

8. Poured a glass of wine.

9. Watched a clip of Stephen Colbert,

10. Updated Nelly's Garden. Does that count?

All in all, a quiet sort of a day.

Getting Things Done

• Booked flights to catch up with Katy and her growing family. Yea! Seeing James again and meeting Emily for the first time. I don't really mind (much) missing the first couple of weeks. It gives everyone a chance to settle down before I come crashing in.
• Cleaned the Hillbilly Hen House. Hosed it down, made it very nice. I'll do the Orchard Hen House on Friday. Two in one day is way too much.
• Got into the polytunnel for the first time this year and started getting sorted. It will be Spring before we know it!
• Sorted out some financial matters, the pension (at last!) and something else as well. I will not be scrimping when I go to Norfolk. Emily needs dresses! James needs trains! Everyone else needs wine!
• Got my tooth fixed - the pretendy one that Jess nibbled. Bad Dog!

Now with all that taken care of I can relax and tomorrow I'll enjoy the company of my two older grandchildren. Can't wait.

Garlic and Sourdough

There is a trip planned for next week and I have an awful lot to do before I leave.

• Plant garlic.
• Rack wine.
• Plant daffodils.
• Turn up new black trousers.
• Buy toiletries.
• Organise spending money.
• Buy presents.
• Wrap presents.
• Sort clothes for packing.

Today I made a list - not the one above. And collected my big suitcase from the attic. I put my long list on top of it and smiled a satisfied smile. That'll do. For today.

I also had this conversation with Bert.

I'll be wanting you to keep my sourdough mother alive when I'm away.

What! Can't you get Hannah to do that?

It's not hard.

I'll never remember.

I'll also be expecting you to put the recycling out on Wednesday night.

What!

But if you don't do that it's not the end of the world. However, that sourdough has been going for seven months now. I'd hate it to die just because no-one was able to give it a spoonful of flour, a dribble of water and a wee stir.

Can't you take it with you? If I forget you'll yell at me and if Hannah's responsible for it you won't yell at her.

This is true. But Hannah's got enough on her plate. I'll get Les to remind you.

Last year's garlic

I'm definitely not taking that sourdough mother with me. Imagine trying to explain that to airport security.

Big Chubby and a List

One of the best things about learning to write is being able to write lists. This is Martha's first list for Bert. I have a feeling it won't be the last.

Martha and Hannah are here for a sleepover as I won't see them for more than a week. Hannah and I are going to Norfolk to see sweet baby James and his people. Those girls do make us laugh. Martha being stern and serious whilst wearing a puppy dog sleep suit complete with tail. Evie poking me in the bosom area while I'm fixing her shoes, calling me 'Big Chubby'. Bert got the best laugh out of that. I had to tell him sternly and seriously  that what might be funny coming from a three year old is much less amusing coming from one's husband. Thankfully I wasn't wearing a puppy dog sleep suit at the time.

December Daily Post, No. 12

Eyes. Coming good.

Weather. Light dusting of snow.

Breakfast. Café Couture in Ballykeel.

Question. To Bert, “Should I bake something?”

Answer. From Bert, “Silly question, of course you should.”

Visitors. Young Rooney. Razza.

Walked. 21 minutes. Wore new jacket. Very cosy.

Baked. Steamed Syrup Pudding.

Supper. Toad-in-the-Hole.

Phone Call. London Sister.

Watched. The Departed. Late to the party I know. Lots of blood. Very good film.

General Mood. Happy.

Preparations for Christmas. Went outside and chose Christmas tree.

Plant A Seed

I read this somewhere - 'Forget dusting, go outside, plant a seed.'




I took it to heart. The forgetting to dust was the easy part. I don't even feel bad about that any more, Instead I feel guilty if I don't get round to planting that seed. This month I should have sown, according to the following handy list,

Amaranth
Beetroot
Chinese cabbage
Calabrese
Carrots, early varieties
Carrots, maincrop varieties
Cauliflower
Chicory
Courgettes, marrows and pumpkins
Fenugreek
Florence fennel
French beans
Runner beans
Kohl rabi
Lettuce
Salad onions
Pak choi
Peas
Pumpkin
Radish, mooli
Sweet corn
Swede
Turnip

And so far, with just one week of June left, I've only managed to sow fennel, radishes, cabbage, lettuce, turnips and peas. At least, with dusting, there are no time restrictions. And I don't even know what amaranth is!