I’ve just eaten dinner which, when I went to cook it, was still just a twinkle in my eye as I’d overlooked there being a bank holiday when the shops were shut.  That is, I don’t suppose the Co-op was, but I hadn’t got on my bike and shopped, as it was jolly cold and windy.  In fact, I’ve been out to the Dutch light greenhouse and covered over vulnerable things, as they were talking darkly about frost tonight, earlier on.

Anyway, I had a head of celery (is that the right word?  I think so but it looks strangely impolite) and a couple of parsnips and some onions and not a lot else.  But I did have some chicken stock.  So I decided to see what parsnip’n’celery risotto tasted like.  And to serve it with a nice Norfolk Little Gem lettuce that I remembered was in the fridge.

This was nearly cooked when the Sage came in and I remembered that he had, earlier, mentioned asparagus.  So I asked him to pick it.  The asparagus, that is.  Darlings, there was lots.  I also remembered a small amount of fillet of pork in random sauce (basically shallot and red pepper, can’t remember what else) that a small amount of was in a bowl in the fridge.

It all got served up together and, having chattered away to the Sage’s complete entertainment, I explained that I was going to observe a respectful silence for the first home-grown asparagus of the season.  Silence didn’t last for long, as my groans of delight soon pierced the air.  I have, of course, saved the cooking water and trimmings as the basis for another stock.  Frugal, me.  And greedy.

The Sage has suddenly decided to waft himself off westwards tomorrow.  He will stay overnight with Wink (having saluted Stonehenge with an uplifted heart on the way) and then head for Gloucestershire, to three destinations and then other places on his way home.  I have a meeting here at 7.30 tomorrow night, but after that I can watch episodes of Deadwood (I’m really slow, I’m only just on Series 3, after months and months) without having to put on headphones, because the language is too strong for the Sage’s tender ears.

Ooh, I can hear the coffee grinder.  The Sage is looking after me again.

I have caught up with the business paperwork, which is v good, but I’ve been neglecting other stuff – that is, voluntary business, which is v bad.  Still, as tomorrow is a Bank Holiday, there won’t be any post to deal with so I should be able to get on.

I’ve realised that we’re going to have to crack on pdq with the next catalogue – the auction is mid-July and the printers want it before the end of May and I’m going to be away for a week.  So the Sage has a week to get the china together (he’s only got three-quarters of a sale-worth so far) and then we’ll have a week to do the work, then Weeza can prepare the catalogue while I’m away.

Hm.  I may have to relinquish my lazy ways for a day or two.

I had a lovely time in the shop yesterday, Al’s customers are wonderful.  One lady came in with an adorable spaniel puppy, 12 weeks old.  She was very friendly and affectionate (I mean the puppy, Dave*, although the lady was charming too).  A little girl came in with her mother and cuddled the puppy too.  “We may be getting a labradoodle puppy,” she said hopefully, “If Daddy says we can.  He’s away cycling across Australia just now.”  I advised getting it as a welcome home present, but apparently Daddy doesn’t really like dogs and is arriving home this week.  So maybe they’ll be able to get him to say yes when in the first enthusiasm of homecoming.  “Remember,” advised Al, “He can say ‘no’ any number of times, but he only has to say ‘yes’ once and he’s committed.”

That’s my boy.  Teach a 6-year-old how to negotiate successfully and run rings round her parents.  It has always been my speciality to do the same thing.

Today, it’s jolly cold again.  I haven’t been down to the greenhouse at all and hope that cucumbers aren’t suffering – everything else will be all right.  I’ll go and have a look in the morning.  It’s not been frosty, just a chilly wind, and I thought it would be better to leave what heat there is still in there and not open the door.  I’ve got lovely plants ready to go out, but the garden is still not rabbit- or bantam-proofed, so they will have to wait.  At least we’ve had some rain, but I may have to start watering before I can do anything else at all.  It’s been a very dry month.

I’ve remembered that I’ve got half a packet of wine gums somewhere, but I can’t remember where I’ve put them.  Now I’ve thought of them, I really want a wine gum.  I’ve got chocolate, but that Won’t Do.

I shall have a cup of Rose Pouchong instead.

*The puppy is not called Dave, I was addressing Dave.

Though it could be as well phrased by saying Aidez-Zoi.

The sale went well thanks, but it’s all got too busy to write about.  I’ve reached my limit, I think, which doesn’t often happen.  I’ve had to talk so much and write so many emails that I’ve run out of words.

Still, I’ll make the effort.  It’s for you, after all, and you’re Worth It.

It wasn’t until 8.30 that I found out that Al had kindly given his Saturday assistant the day off.  A sixteen-year-old boy, his parents are on holiday and his mates were coming over on Friday night and staying over – it would have been churlish, don’t you think, to make the young man get up and come to work?  Well, so Al thought anyway.  I didn’t know any prices so spent most of the morning lugging sacks of potatoes and bushels of apples about and stacking shelves rather than on the till.

I lost my iPhone.  Someone found it, tracked me down and returned it.  I am still the luckiest person I know – and he’s one of the nicest – he’s a fellow iPhone user himself, so understands.  And is a Yagnub person, so is lovely.

Oh, and Al had a parcel to post, something he’d sold on eBay, so I went along to the post office for him.  There was a queue and two people who knew each other were chatting – both had come along to pay their car road fund licence, both had tried to pay it online and had been refused – one didn’t recognise the number on the log book, the other said she hadn’t paid the insurance but she had the certificate.  The Sage tried to pay his online this year and it wouldn’t take the 16-digit number either.  So they had to trail along, as both will be at work when the PO opens again on Tuesday.  Which was quite annoying for them.

On the other hand, the internet is very useful when finding out how much postage to charge when posting £1,000-worth of china to Australia.