I wrote this on 15th April. The lecturer today couldn’t find where he was supposed to park because it’s a little side road leading to a private car park, and his SatNav didn’t recognise it. Although he had written instructions, he’s not the first person I’ve found to rely so heavily on SatNav that they can’t follow any other directions. A friend was amused when he was given a lift and his directions to his own house were ignored in favour of the satnav’s. Which got them there quite satisfactorily, he reported. I suppose this sort of thing was at the heart of my resistance.

Anyway, the weather. Dave’s absolutely right, it’s awfully changeable round here from one place to another. We used, as you know, to live in Lowestoft and my in-laws then lived in this house, half an hour’s drive away. We used, often, to have Sunday lunch with my mother and stepfather and then come over to Pa and Ma for tea. It was noticeable, in the winter (in those days, snow came more reliably each year) that the depth of snow increased as we came inland; between L’toft and Beccles and between Beccles and here. On the other hand, the spring was earlier as we came inland in equal measure. It was much windier, as you’d expect, on the coast and, once we’d moved, we’d set off for a day by the sea and find that we should have remembered the woolly cardies. Where we used to live, on P@kef1e1d cliff, if there was a beautiful sunny day, it was often followed by days of unremitting fog, whereas a mile or two inland the sun broke through and it was hot again.

It was the bands of rain that we always remarked upon though. I think it’s because of all the rivers around here. Generally speaking, it’s the driest area of the country in terms of rainfall, although as so much water flows through, it’s one area that has never had a hosepipe ban in summer. Household water comes from underground aquifers rather than reservoirs. Around the rivers, there are often broad areas of water-meadows or marshland, used for grazing animals, to soak up floodwater. These are unsuitable for building on or cultivation and farmers receive grants for keeping them in good order for wildlife and the environment – for example, by not using nitrate fertiliser.

I’ve gone off the point, sorry. Rain. Yes, it’s not unusual to drive into a band of rain across the road which, a few miles later, vanishes again. A while ago, I was with Dilly, north of Norwich and we drove in and out of black clouds and pouring rain, alternately with a blue sky, fluffy clouds and bright sunshine. It was odd.

There are particular villages where, if it’s going to rain, that’s where it starts. This one tends to be dry. It always rains at Barnby. Boringland (which starts with a P, but sometimes has its initial altered, to general hilarity) is likely to be wet. A thunderstorm sometimes rolls round the Waveney Valley for hours, seemingly trapped by the curve of the waterways.

The North Norfolk coast is supposed to be particularly sunny. Cromer, on the North-East corner, is said to be sunniest of all – I daresay there are records to back this up but, I have to say, this has never been my experience. Every time I visit my sister-in-law there, it has been dull and often drizzly.

The sun is shining now. I’m going to put washing on the line.

So, Weeza and Phil have chosen carpets and other flooring and paint colours, and booked fittings. Furthermore, their tenant has moved out, so the house is properly theirs. I started to feel excited as soon as I walked in again from waving her goodbye, but it took a while for the slow big grin to spread above Weeza’s face, as it started to sink in. She’s still pacing herself though; it’ll be a few weeks yet before she finishes work and moves here, leaving Phil to finish packing up and loading the heavy stuff and leaving the London flat empty. I will so miss my overnight London visits – I usually go up on a Friday, spend a day doing this and that, meet them for dinner – El is a whiz at finding good restaurants with half-price offers – and then we have a day together before I come home on Saturday evenings – but the pleasure and excitement of having her within 20 miles and the prospect of the baby to come more than makes up for it; indeed, it doesn’t matter at all.

We thought a barbecue last night. Sadly, the weather forecast was accurate and it rained, until I served up steak in the west-facing dining room, whereupon the sunlight streamed in again. Today, another lovely morning, but it rained at lunchtime, so it was just as well that we hadn’t tried again with the outdoor eating. We drove over to the house and then to the station for a cup of tea before the train came in, and it started to tip down yet again as I was about to leave them. It wasn’t that far to the car, but I was wet through and my hair was dripping, so that I had to comb it back and the unaccustomed sight of my pale bare forehead startled me.

I tried out the new satnav and am a happy convert. I am a Luddite at heart, rejecting most innovations, but I rather liked the unnagging tone of the directions and, although I ignored the voice at one stage and went my own way, there was no fuss but a few seconds of quiet reconfiguration and then a polite suggestion of the next turning, which was the one I wanted to take all along. On the way home, it was entirely good-natured and caused no dissent at all, unlike Dilly’s sister’s, which tried to send her several miles the other way to the main Lowestoft to Norwich road, quite unnecessarily. Next weekend, I’ll be driving to their London flat and I’ve got lost doing that before (on a rainy November night; the only other time I’ve driven there I was all right) and I just don’t want the anxiety: which is the reason for the satnav.

Hard not to snap back to good humour when you go into Yagnub. Helped by the westerly wind behind me, I pedalled hard up the hill by the post office and was puffing a bit as Penny crossed the road in front of me. “I’m slow, you’ve plenty of time,” I called. “Mind that hip!” she returned. I went into the butcher and asked for thick sirloin steaks. Adrian remarked that the Sage had enjoyed the meat he’d bought himself for his lunch the other day (he’d been eating fish or veggie all week and maybe felt a little deprived). I said that he’d offered to share, but I’d already cut a lovely artichoke from the garden. Tracy in the bakery started to put my rolls in a bag and then said “Ooh, better not, Alex wouldn’t like it!” I agreed, and said I’d get the blame. “Mind you don’t drop them as you cross the road.” “If I do, that’ll be Al’s fault.”

I went along to the library – I forgot that I’d been in last time on a Friday, so I had a 75p fine to pay – and stocked up on canvas bags for Al, who sells them at cost price in the shop. Then I went back and picked up some lovely local lettuces, Webbs Wonder and Cos, for tonight and chatted to several customers, including Penny who had worked her way round town and was getting her heavy vegetables last. An elderly car was parked on the yellow line and the traffic warden was standing there. “That’s Bill’s car,” said Al. “I know,” he said. “Go on, then, give ‘im a ticket!” The warden grinned. “I’ve warned him often enough.” “He’s in the butcher, he’ll be out as soon as he spots you.” Bill saw him and he shot out and into the car. “I have told you, you know, this’ll have to be a final warning.” Bill didn’t believe him, you could see. “You’re parked on the pavement drop too, for wheelchairs, that’s worse than just the yellow line,” I said and, to the warden, “You’re a good, kind man.” “Hm, up to a point…” he replied. “I’m not buttering you up, I’m on my bike,” and he grinned at me.

There’s a link I want to put in to a newspaper article, but the EDP’s search is really quite poor and I’ve never found out how to find a particular thing I need to find. The town and the person and the date doesn’t do it – I’ll have to have another try later. I must go now to fetch my girly and her chap from the station.

Later The local paper only puts in headline news on the day, you have to pay for an e-edition to get the whole of the paper’s contents, which is all right, because the article was in yesterday. But it doesn’t seem to be there yet. Maybe they don’t update at weekends.

The Year 9 music pupils in today’s lesson were having their work recorded, for playing back and evaluating at the next lesson. It’s been an ambitious project – each class was split into small groups, usually of 4 or 5, and they had to write, arrange and play a piece of music in their chosen style. Some of the groups tackled this with a lot more confidence than others, but I’ve been impressed by the work they’ve all put in and the results. It’s not the way we were taught music when I was at school.

I was tired and had to walk up the hill to the school. I knew I looked drawn and miserable and I couldn’t help it – it was all right when I was with someone and had an animated expression, but in repose my face drooped. On the way home, I noticed the gardener in the churchyard mowing the grass and I went along to tell him the date of the festival, so that he could cut the grass and tidy up in the week before. As I came back, an old lady was walking through the side gateway followed by her granddaughter (I suppose) who had driven her there. They were both carrying flowers. The older woman’s were bright, pretty colours of summery flowers and it made me cry, to think of her visiting her husband, with nothing to express herself with but pointless blossoms that he wouldn’t see her carefully arrange and lovingly water.

This afternoon’s meeting, which was to confirm or disallow the permanent exclusion of a school pupil, was straightforward, but depressing.

Tomorrow, Weeza and Phil are coming up to meet the carpet fitter at their house in Norwich, to where they are moving next month. The train service has been horribly delayed by track problems all week and the lastest thing was a derailed goods train yesterday. They will be bused from Colchester to Ipswich and the journey will take nearly an hour longer each way. I’ll ferry them around to do some shopping – paint and the like – take them to the house and also buy the Sage a birthday present for next week. We’ll celebrate on Saturday evening, while we’re all here.

Al panicked this morning when he discovered an order on the board for stuff he didn’t have – lollo rosso lettuces, endives, several pineapples, 20lbs of tomatoes, herbs, 15 lbs of strawberries — it went on. He rang and there was no reply, so the Sage went out to visit the customer and see whether they were for today or tomorrow. Her husband was there. “Um, no,” he said, “the order’s for next week.” The Sage went back and reported to Al who had, by then, noticed the date clearly written and who has meekly accepted the description of ‘plonker.’

Another day over, thank goodness. Tomorrow won’t be an easy one either. Today, that is, as it’s after midnight again. And one piece of upsetting news after another this week – nothing personal to me, you understand, but affecting friends. Though I did just find a rather cold and withdrawing sort of email from someone, out of the blue which, as I was already low, has upset me. I sent a slightly too polite reply, rather formal – if I’d left it until tomorrow I might written in a different style but fuck it, why should I? I’m always the smoother over and the one who absorbs other people’s moodiness and I don’t feel like it tonight. I can’t be bothered.

Oh damn, I’m going to go and have a lovely hot bath and then I’ll wake up my husband and he will cuddle me and I’ll feel all right again. Sorry darlings, I’ll be better once tomorrow afternoon is over.

xx

Plain Scones

These are not very sweet or rich, but if I’m putting jam and cream or butter on, there’s no need for them to be.

8 oz self raising flour (or plain flour with baking powder* as recommended on the pack)
1 ½ oz butter at room temperature
1 ½ tablespoons white sugar
pinch of salt
5 fluid ounces milk
A little extra flour for rolling out.

Sift the flour into a bowl and rub the butter in until it resembles fine breadcrumbs, ad the sugar and the salt, then add the milk, stirring in with a knife and then making a dough with your fingers.
Turn the dough onto a floured board and roll out gently to about ¾ of an inch – don’t make them too thin, but thicker is all right. Cut out with a pastry cutter or knife, put on a floured baking dish, bake for about 12 minutes, depending on size, at gas 7, 425F or 220C (not sure what you use!). When cooked, they will be golden brown and look cooked underneath too. Cook on a wire rack, eat while slightly warm.

Fruit scones

6 oz self raising flour (or 3 oz white SR flour, 3 oz plain wholemeal and 1 teasp baking powder*)
½ teaspoon powdered cinnamon
1 oz soft brown sugar
1 oz butter
1 ½ oz mixed dried fruit, or just raisins
1 large egg
2 – 2 ½ tablesp. milk
Make as before, adding the cinnamon and fruit before the egg and milk, which you beat together.
They take 15 -20 minutes to cook.

Cheese scones

6 oz SR flour (or as in previous recipe)
½ teasp dry mustard powder – if you don’t have that, a little prepared mustard mixed with the milk.
½ teasp salt if you wish
1 oz butter
3 oz grated strong Cheddar or similar cheese
1 large egg
2-3 tablesp milk

Mix dry ingredients, rub in butter, add most of the cheese (reserve about 1 tablespoonful), mix to a dough with the egg and milk beaten together.
Cut out the scones – it’ll make 6 – 8 – and brush the tops with milk and sprinkle on the reserved cheese.
Bake (same temp as before) for 15-20 minutes, serve warm with more butter if you like.

Exact proportions don’t matter with any of these, I just chuck it all together until it feels and looks right. You can’t go far wrong, just don’t roll them too thin and if you accidentally do, call them rusks.

*Baking powder is a mixture of cream of tartar and bicarbonate of soda – for half a pound of flour you’d need 1 level tablesp., which is 15 ml (sorry to switch to metric suddenly) baking powder. If you’re mixing your own, it’s 2/3 cream of tartar to 1/3 bicarb. I said to Yoga Gal that I replace some of the milk with buttermilk or plain yoghurt, but I didn’t mention that, if I don’t, I might add another teaspoon of baking powder, even if I’ve used SR flour.

Oh, I thought I’d written a post – I just came on to alter the date to just before midnight; but I haven’t. It was typing out those recipes for Yoga Gal.

Right. Um, I didn’t do a lot today – just a meeting this morning, for which I have to write up notes …that reminds me, I’ve got some from last week too because the secretary forgot the meeting and so I did minutes. I looked after Pugsley this afternoon, cycled in for fruit and veg – I’d asked the Sage to take my car this morning and fill it with petrol as Weeza and Phil are coming for the weekend and need to use it – and then biked in again for a new intake evening at school. One father seems to be interested in becoming a governor and I gave him my email. One of the other governors came in at about 20 to 9 and said it was just started to rain, so I hastened home (yes, provident woman that I am, there was a raincoat in the pannier and -AND- I’d remembered to put new batteries in the front light.

Actually, I’m a bit gloomy at present, because I heard today of a third friend who has died. None of these were young; one was just 86, one was 70 (that’s pretty young really) and this one was 85. She and her husband (an old teacher of the Sage’s) live some 120 miles away and the Sage is pondering whether he’ll manage to go to the funeral. I can’t, I’ve got an engagement that day.

In addition to that, two friends have just found they have cancer – both of them are around 80 – worrying news.

But, to finish on a happier note, a hen pheasant has been proudly bringing her babies to show us. She has nine of them and they’ve had several fine days to give them a good start in life. The rain this evening was only a shower – but it gave me a good excuse to get home in time to watch the final of The Apprentice. As ever, Siralun chose unwisely and will deserve all he gets.

(A few minutes later) – back again to backdate this to yesterday – it’s 1 am, but you wouldn’t want two posts on a Thursday, would you?

I arrived at the shop at 8 this morning, which does help as there’s a lot of plants to get out at this time of the year. I went out at 11.30 to do some shopping for the doo this evening, bought some chops for the Sage and Ro’s dinner and a ham and salad roll for my lunch from the bakery. As my bike panniers were crammed full, I was glad to see the Sage (with car) outside the shop and handed it all over for him to take home. Dilly arrived soon after Tim left at 12.30 and she served while I bunched up asparagus (if you leave it loose, customers break it as they handle it and a lot is wasted) before my meeting.

We left the Chairman of governors with a lot to do, I’m afraid, but in a supportive sort of way 😉 and then I went back to the shop, advised Dilly (yes, she did ask first) on the contents of a regular fruit box and went home. Al was going in to help pack up and the Sage and Ro would look after the children, while I prepared food.

First, I put on eggs to hard-boil, then I made a batch of scones, then I sliced a cucumber into quarter-inch slices, then I whipped cream, then I took the eggs off the stove, then – nearly too late – I removed the scones from the oven. I decrusted and buttered a small loaf, mashed the eggs with seasoning and mayonnaise, packed panniers and left for the church. There, I switched on the water heater, topped bread with smoked salmon, more bread with egg mayonnaise, cucumber slices with Boursin cheese, scones with cream and strawberries and, as other food arrived, put it on plates. I’d brought biscuits, crisps etc, but didn’t open them as there was loads.

The bit that nearly scuppered me was having been asked to play for a hymn at the start. But it did give me a sit-down, and I had a quick swig of port at Communion time and belted back to make coffee. I’d already put out cups and saucers. Sue and I put out the food – we had put that outside, as chairs were in the meeting room and the hall isn’t big enough. I put milk outside too, to force people out.

45 people emptied 4 cafétières, 3 teapots and nearly a litre of milk. Afterwards. they went in for their meeting while I washed up. At the end, I stood bearing foil plates and plastic dishes and asked people to take more food with them. As it was a meeting of religious types, I pointed out that it would have to be thrown away otherwise, and by the end very little was left. I finished washing up and left for home at 10.15.

I’m glad I won’t be doing it again tomorrow.

I know, you can hardly believe it and nor can I. But I was stood up; not with disdain aforethought but through sheer amnesia.

Al went to work this morning, but I was not surprised when he returned after an hour, so I went in to help Tim. Monday mornings are always busy – for one thing there’s always a big order received as so much has sold out on Saturday and then there is a lot to check and possibly throw out; and it’s often a busy morning as people need to stock up after the weekend. However, I was home by 12.30 and ate a quick but delicious lunch of granary bread (unadorned), raspberries, plain yoghurt and cherries. The yoghurt is a bit of a slog actually; I bought it a week ago, two 500g pots, but as they were out of whole milk stuff I bought fat-free and, to be honest, it’s a bit too worthy. I’ve taken to adding a spoonful of Greek yoghurt to perk it up, but it’s still taking some getting through.

I drove to the blood donor clinic in case I felt woozy and not like cycling the 3 miles home – I was fine, but was a little tired when on my way to the hairdresser later; I had to stand on the pedals to make it up the hill. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon in the shop – Tim offered to stay until the end of the afternoon and I gratefully accepted. I had a front door key, and the Sage said he’d call in at 6 o’clock with his key, to lock the back door.

At 6.20, I phoned home. No reply. I phoned Ro’s mobile. Little chance of a reply there, he usually leaves it on the kitchen table once he gets home from work. Finally (I was tired and hungry) I phoned Al and asked if Dilly could bring in a key.

Two minutes later, my mobile rang. “Are you still at the shop?” asked the Sage cheerfully. I knew he was at home, as the display showed “Us”. “You were supposed to call in half an hour ago to lock the back door,” I reminded him tersely. “Oh! My meeting went on a long time.” “It was the last thing you said to me when I left the house” – I was stern. He was abashed. Legless for standing purposes.

Five minutes later, having warded off Dilly, he drew up. I was smiling by then (mercurial isn’t in it – I am the mistress of the mood change). “There’s a bottle of pink in the fridge; have a glass poured for me”

And he did. Even better, Dilly and Co had only eaten half their chicken for dinner and she gave me the rest, with potato salad and coleslaw; I hastily washed a lettuce, sautéed courgettes to add to leftover couscous and dinner was ready 15 minutes after I started preparing it. The Sage also used a particularly nicely-shaped glass for the wine, which makes such a difference to one’s enjoyment. I don’t often use good glasses, as I put them in the dishwasher, but he is unaware of such things and that’s fine with me.

Okay, plans for the week change a bit. Al has now got The Bug. Ro and I, the only ones unscathed by it, are very nervous. Trouble is, Al has a shop to run and Eileen is still on holiday. So…I’ve a free morning tomorrow, so I can go in early and set up and stay to work with Tim, because Monday mornings are often busy. He can manage in the afternoon, when I’ve a trip to the blood donor clinic and then a haircut booked and then I’ll take over again for the last hour or so and pack up. Right, that’s sorted.

Tuesday, I can cancel the morning appointment; the afternoon one is a bit more tricky but it can go too. I’m supposed to be doing food for a meeting in the evening, but I can always do it … er…. oh, never mind, it’ll be fine. Wednesday isn’t too busy, so Tim can spare me for an hour or two for another meeting. I’m free in the afternoon. Thursday, I hope Al is better and he’ll have to be on Friday because I have something on at 2 o’clock that I’m needed for – a school thing that’s confidential but has a time limit and statutory conditions and, while I personally don’t matter, it’ll be awkward to find someone else.

If I’m ill, I suppose I’ll just have to not eat and drink, because that’s what causes the problems. I’m relying heavily on alcohol to keep me well. I’ve drunk all the wine (except the good stuff and the raffle prizes) so have moved on to gin. Unfortunately, there’s no ice and no tonic. I used sparkling apple juice, which was a bit sweet so I added the juice of half a lime; this made it taste a bit odd so I added another slug of gin and it seemed to improve it a bit, anyway I drank it.

Update, 11.15 Alex came in a while ago to say he feels better. The Sage gave a hollow laugh after he’d gone, saying that he felt better each evening for 8 days, but there was a severe recurrence of symptoms in the night (actually, he didn’t say all those words, as he doesn’t speak like an 18th Century pedant, but I’ve added the last 11 of them to explain what he meant). We’ll see what happens. I hope Al’s optimism is rewarded.