Monthly Archives: June 2010

Happy families

The Sage and I spent some time missing each other’s phone calls last night, and I found another slightly edgily affectionate message again this afternoon.  I phoned his mobile, which wasn’t answered, and then tried Wink’s number and, sure enough, the Sage picked up.  So we billed and cooed for a while, I explained why I hadn’t been about when he rang and he explained that he hadn’t meant to leave his phone in his Gladstone bag where he couldn’t hear it, and we agreed that we miss each other awfully.

Actually, mostly, we talked about the bantams – fortunately, he approved of how I’ve been looking after them.  And I have, I’ve taken ever so much trouble, giving them soaked bread in the morning, corn at lunchtime and leftovers of more bread, salad and pasta from last night, with a bit more corn, this evening.  They have looked very well, though the old black hen was very noisy yesterday and the only way to stop her was to feed her – she’s greedy and chases away any other girl who comes to eat, even though there’s plenty for everyone.

We went and had lunch with Al and Dilly and afterwards Weeza and I came back here to put Zerlina down for her nap.  The phone rang and it was the son of our friend Daphne, who is staying with his girlfriend in Southwold for a long weekend and wondered if it would be convenient to call in during the afternoon.  Indeed it was, we haven’t seen him for years.  He’s a couple of years, nearly, younger than Al, and we all have spent a lot of time together, on and off.  His father died when he was in his mid teens, he referred to him several times – not in a particularly reverent way but it showed the influence still there, half a lifetime later.

This evening, I looked at the random collection of food I’d got – a cauliflower, a few new potatoes, some tomatoes, onions, shallots and garlic, a red and a green chilli, a few slightly wizened young carrots and some broad beans, and two large open-cup mushrooms.  I put away the cauli and potatoes until tomorrow, and the green chilli and cooked the rest with an assortment of spices.  It was fine.  Slightly unusual.  You’d not call it a recipe, mostly a matter of getting out everything beginning with c, plus some mustard seed.

Don’t you love the way mustard seeds pop when you fry them?

Anyway, I thought you might like a couple of happy family photos.  The first is of Squiffany and Zerlina doing some drawing together and the second of Zerlina and Tilly having a cuddle.  Tilly has had such a happy time this weekend, she loves the children.

 

Z is left to look after the bantams

Dilly and Al had a party today.  They relied rather on fine weather because they planned a barbecue, with more guests than indoor chairs, but the Luck of the Sage held, even though the man himself wasn’t there and the sun shone reasonably hot, which was more than it looked as if it was going to do.  All week, rain has been forecast which hasn’t fallen, but the dry day that was predicted looked quite unlikely for a while.  Almost the whole family came, Dilly’s parents and one of her sisters, with her family, Ro and his girlfriend Dora came and so did Weeza and Zerlina, though not Phil because he’s visiting other friends this weekend. Various other families came too and the children all played cheerily together, without bothering us at all.  

The Sage has gone away for a couple of days.  Today, there was an Old Boys’ Reunion at his school.  I find these things a bit bemusing, but then, as you know, I’m a bit of an old misery at heart and, if I hadn’t kept in touch with people from several decades ago, I’d think it a bit odd to catch up with them once in a while just because we shared the same Latin classes.  Actually, I’d not recognise people either, by name or face.  I’m hopeless.  Anyway, I digress: the Sage was thoroughly looking forward to it, because various people who were in the school shooting team with him were going to be there.  They are older than he: he was a crack shot from an early age.  This is target shooting, of course, he has never been a hunter.

He is staying there tonight and tomorrow has some business to transact on the other side of the country, so will go from Derbyshire to Wiltshire and then home again on Monday by way of Towcester (which is, rather fabulously, pronounced Toaster, for those of you who do not herald from these shores).

So I’d be all alone tonight, were it not that Weeza is staying over.  Zerlina is staying with her cousins next door, so Weeza can relax.

And I’ve got to get up early tomorrow, to set up everything for the 8 o’clock service, so now I’m going to let Tilly out and in again, and go to bed.

Belle of the Ball

At the school this morning, it just so happened that I bumped into all the people I wanted to see – one to commiserate on the death of her mother, one to congratulate on being elected staff governor, one to thank (I have already, but now he’s officially finished) for having been a governor, one to thank for holding the fort during a recent gap in staffing, one to wish good luck in a job interview for a big promotion.  She’s relocating anyway, so we’ll say goodbye to her anyway.

I had no idea that so much PR was involved in this job – last time I was chairman of governors, it was in a school with ten staff, rather than well over a hundred.

Today was a particularly important day, as I was meeting someone for lunch.  Roses and I have been really looking forward to meeting each other, and she finally discovered that I really do talk as much in real life as I appear to here.  As one does with a blogfriend, we dispensed with the cautious preliminaries of conversation and dived straight in to talk about Dave talk about ourselves.  We were just having coffee when I saw Dilly and Pugsley outside the window, so waved them in where they settled down for apple juice and chocolate cake.  Then the Sage strolled by and came in – I’d told the family how lovely Roses is, so they all wanted to meet her.  She, with considerable social skill, dealt with it all with aplomb.

Later, I showed her the wall, pointing out every small waver in the brickwork (if we’d tried just that bit harder, we’d have had a crinkle-crankle wall) which entertained her.  She met the bantams, the cows, the vegetables, the cock pheasant and several rabbits, but Tilly was asleep on the sofa so didn’t come to greet us, and Roses then had to get home, as she is going to a ball this evening.

Independently, Dilly and I had the same reaction.  “Do you have a ballgown?”  Our wardrobes are decidedly underdressed, as we don’t.  Roses does, so can dance the night away with no inconvenience of glass (or fur) slippers or a frock that vanishes at midnight.

Thanks, darling – it was lovely to meet you and I look forward to seeing you again xx.

Bringing on the wall, Day 38 – Dave is cornered

This has been a red-letter day. The whole of one side of the wall is finally complete.

The Sage brought Dave a celebratory cup of tea in an 18th Century mug. Dave quite unreasonably refused to drink it, on the grounds that the mug was both chipped and cracked.

The finishing touches.
The finished wall

The first section, which was completed last summer

We weren’t idle the rest of the day, either. All ready for planting.

Bringing on the wall, Day 37 – and a bantam moves in

I left the gentlemen to it today, just providing tea, the occasional encouragement and lunch at the end.  Yay, sausages.  Aren’t sausages the finest of foods?  (For vegetarians, read Glamorgan sausages or tofu sausages or whatever Linda Mac provided as a meat substitute).

Knowing that Dave doesn’t really do green, I served tomatoes and carrots (no chips, sadly) but he ignored the latter.  Emboldened by this, so did the Sage.  Wonderful as he was during my convalescence, I did yearn for more vegetables.  He actually likes veg, but I suspect he doesn’t think they are quite manly.

Anyway, nothing spectacular is happening to the wall at present, but excellent progress is being made all the same, because it’s the finishing-off stage.

Pugsley laid a tile (the behatted Sage is just behind it).

This section of the wall is now complete.  Tomorrow, we hope that the wall will be finished up to the corner.
This afternoon, as it was warm – it was supposed to rain this afternoon, but I was not surprised when it didn’t – I left the door open.  I heard an amount of banging about in the porch and, suspecting bantam activity, picked up my camera and went to look.  There was our oldest girl, having decided she’d gone far enough, about to leave.

Later, I heard sounds in the passageway.  She had clucked* up more courage and come indoors and was checking out the kitchen.  She strolled out eventually.  I’d taken the precaution of shutting the drawing room door, Tilly would have been affronted.  She wouldn’t have done anything, but she would have been very put out.

*see what I did there?

By the way, for those of you who think we’ve been mean, shooting a rabbit, a picture of a flageolet bean that it didn’t eat, and one of two that it did.

Today’s app (these are not necessarily only just downloaded, just things I use/play regularly) is Bottle Hunt.  Keep on the sound effects, the sound of breaking glass adds to the pleasure – it’s not a game to take seriously, just to enjoy for a few minutes at a time, and you may want to turn up the brightness.   I’ve cleared the scores several times and am working on full marks (breaking every bottle) on every round. And it’s another free one.  I actually spend very little on apps, and always try free versions of games if they’re available – and if they’re not, I generally don’t bother.

Z looks forward to turning the corner

Plans are well in hand for the Village Festival.  We’ve had our final meeting, reckoning that the remaining details can be sorted out by email and face-to-face – we do talk to each other once in a while – which reminds me, after the interviews at the school a couple of weeks ago and before we discussed the appointment, two members of the panel popped out of the room and the Head and I took the quiet opportunity to check our emails.  His PA came in with some tea and laughed at us.  There we both were, tapping away at our iPhones, looking as if we were carrying on a silent conversation.

I am as besotted as ever with the phone, I’m afraid, and spend a happy few minutes, two or three times a week, checking out apps.  Rog thinks that four or five pages are normal; I’m afraid I have eight and a half.  I do like to have a couple of games on the go, as well as lots of information, some of it in game form (I’m not half bad on the Highway Code now, nor on anatomy: I finally know my arse from my elbow).  then there are books, audio books, newspapers, the radio (which is a bit rubbish in this poor-digital-reception area) and Spotify, never mind the things that come as standard anyway.  And I still sleep with the phone under my pillow.  It’s not the last thing I cuddle at night, but it’s generally the first that I handle in the morning.

These dull, mild days are wonderful for the greenhouse plants, and the rain – not that we’ve had whole lots here – is splendid for the veggies.  I haven’t had to water outside since Saturday, which is a bonus at this time of year.  Of course, I don’t water flowers or lawn.  I have plants that are suitable for sandy, gravelly soil in a sunny spot, instead.

Weather permitting, Dave is coming over tomorrow and we hope to complete the longest section of wall this week.  Then I can weed and dig and plant out the bed beneath and after that we can start on the final stretch.  It’s something like 35 feet long and 5 feet tall, so it’s more work than I’m making it sound, but the end will be in sight.

Today’s app – iAssociate 2.  Which is free.  I’m enjoying it so much that I’ve paid for the original iAssociate as well.

Z gets some work done but is anxious about it for a while

I can’t deny that I got a bit frustrated.  I remembered that I’d promised to do a write-up for the newsletter about the Scottish visit and that I’d said I’d have it to the editor by Tuesday morning.  So I started on that this morning, though I’d intended to do it at the weekend but forgot.  I was getting on quite well and said to the Sage, who was hopefully talking about starting on the photos for the catalogue and website, that I’d be about 15 minutes more.

Then the phone rang.  Doesn’t it always? – it was something I had to talk about, to do with Meals on Wheels, and it took nearly the whole of that 15 minutes and then I’d lost the thread, so it was a further half-hour, with tweaking and correcting, before I sent it off.  And then I had an email that had to be dealt with – it was so much slower and yet so much easier in the days when you weren’t obtainable so easily.  Still, at least it wasn’t another phone call.

After that, I went and talked to the plants in  the greenhouse for a bit, in a friendly way, told them how well they’re doing and how much I care for them, and tied up the new growth in the tomatoes and cucumbers and all that sort of thing.  It’s perfect growing weather in there, warm and humid with no sun to scorch or wilt anything.  I’ve been watering thoroughly so didn’t today, not to bring down the temperature.

The forecast was rain, but we’ve only had a couple of light showers, hardly enough to wet the ground.

Anyway, it was after lunch when we got going.  And it just wasn’t going to work.  The light-box and the lights weren’t right (we used to take photos outside but decided to be a bit more professional) – and I got a bit agitated.  As you can see, I don’t do things early as Dave does, but I don’t take them to the wire either.  I leave time in hand for those sorts of problems.  The Sage doesn’t, but is lucky.

In this case, he was lucky to have me on hand to say “It Won’t Do” rather than let him get away with poor pictures and finally to suggest taking them outside after all.  For the last catalogue pictures, I hadn’t long had my operation and couldn’t help except by making encouraging sounds and tea (and they ended up a bit dark, in fact).   Fortunately (today and outside), the breeze had dropped, it was still cloudy and, although there was a short shower through which I resolutely kept snapping (no water on lens, camera in light box as was china) we got it done.  I’ve sent everything off for the catalogue to Weeza, who has already started work on it.

I realised afterwards I’d missed a meeting, but it didn’t really matter.  I was quite glad to have genuinely not noticed the time, as I didn’t feel I had a lot to contribute but it might have been thought I did, and someone who was much better went anyway and has already emailed a report.  Gosh.  I emailed back to apologise, of course.

Now, I’ve got to get on with that work for the Meals on Wheels lady.  I explained that I was too busy today but I’d do it this evening.

Ooh, Weeza is good.  She emailed to say how she’s getting on with the catalogue (up to lot 34 which is more than a third of the way) and mentioned it was raining.  So I asked her to direct the rain this way and here it is.  Splendid!

Gloat. Of course.

Ooh dear, this is turning into a habit.  I wake too early, the Sage wakes because I do, snuggles up and goes to sleep, and I lie there until it’s getting-up time and then have a nice little nap anyway, putting me behindhand for the rest of the day.

It’ll have to stop now though, I’ve got a busy week on.

Today, we went over to see Weeza.  Well, first, I’d played the music in church.  I received the hymns after I’d been down to the church yesterday to do the flowers, so couldn’t be arsed to go back and practise – I mean, darlings, one can lose freshness so easily by over-practising, don’t you think?  The fact that I didn’t actually know two of the hymns is neither here nor there.  I bluff, I bluff, hear me.

*now trying to remember what the original was.  I know what it’s from, of course, but what the second (and fourth, in repeat) word is, I can’t think.  If I can by the time I finish, I shall mention it of course.  As ever, CBATG.

Apart from repeatedly playing C sharp in one place in each verse, when the key was G, it was fine.  I nearly had a small hiccup when, finishing the final verse of the final hymn with a flourish, I suddenly noticed another ‘final final’ verse on the next page.  I noticed it in time not to miss it, fortunately.

Phil was doing a hundred mile bike ride today, the Norwich 100, which starts from the Cathedral, goes up through mid-Norfolk to Sheringham (buggering up the traffic in Cromer en route) and then returning by the coast road.  He did it in just over 7 hours, about 6 1/2 without the compulsory lunchtime stop.  Good job it wasn’t yesterday, when it was boiling hot.  He phoned from the Cathedral when he got back (only another 4 miles uphill to go, to be home) to suggest meeting at the pub for a Broadside.  I took photos.

Yay, photos.  Obviously, not all of them are here.  Most had faces in.

Afterwards, they walked home and we left to drive home.  Phil said that there had been torrential rain for a while – he didn’t have time to get on a coat and overshoes and, while waiting to be checked in at the Cathedral, he’d taken off his shoes and wrung rainwater out of his socks!  Mind you, he was quite sweaty too, as I found when I kissed him hello.  It didn’t seem quite polite to wipe my face, so I just had to be careful not to lick my lips – it’s not within the bounds of propriety to taste a son-in-law’s sweat.

The good thing for me was that I was very comfortable walking a quarter of a mile or so in 3 inch *approx – the height of the length of my middle finger) heels. I’m so sorry, darlings, if I’d known I was going to take my photo I’d have had a pedicure first.

yet more pictures of Zegetables

“Um”, I said, with a rare burst of lucidity, “have you got a gate for the wall?”  The Sage said he had, and where it is, leaning against the barn.  I had observed it.  “Is it the right width?”  “Should be, I’ve measured it.”  We went over to it and looked silently for a minute.  “Um,” said the Sage, who talks much as I do, “it’s not rabbit-proof, is it?”  It’s a very attractive wrought-iron gate, but a slender rabbit would have no difficulty getting through.  “We’ll have to put wire against it,” he resolved.

Rather dismayed as I was by this, I let it pass.  “It’ll need cleaning and painting, anyway.”  “There’s no rust,” he said over-optimistically.  “Um,” I replied – there’s a wealth of meaning in these two-lettered words, isn’t there? – and pointed out where there was, distinctly, rust.  It hasn’t eaten into the metal and it’s a very sturdy gate which will, with its weight, be the first test of the strength of the wall, but it would be silly to paint over it.

I can see I have a horrible job in front of me.  Wire-brushing and scrubbing an intricately-patterned gate, sealing it against rust and painting it.  I’ll have to do it.  Left to the Sage, he’ll cheerily put it in place, promising to do the job properly soon and it still won’t be done in five years’ time.

Still, I’m going to measure it first, to be sure it fits.

Last night I went to bed with a headache and woke with the same one.  I had meant to get up early and garden but, as I lay there feeling bleary, the Sage half-woke, put an arm round me and fell asleep again.  So I got up rather late and didn’t do the gardening until later in the day when it wasn’t so hot.

I’ve put some of the pots out, in the bit of bed that I’ve dug.  This is not how they will stay – it won’t be long before there’s more room when the next couple of sections have been completed, and I’ll give these a bit more space, put out peppers and some flowers and aim to make it a bit more attractive – though I probably will stick to the flexibility of keeping things in pots this year – and more weeding has been done in the rest of the veg garden.  This has knocked the artichokes about a bit, but they seem all right.

The plants all suffered somewhat from having been kept in pots for too long, but the hardy things had to wait until the fencing went up and the rest was delayed by the cold weather.  It’ll all recover and it can’t be helped anyway.  The headache went too, by the way.  I sensibly lounged about drinking water for a bit, as I think I’ve been overdoing things in the heat of the day.

Me! Me! Or, in this case, meme

From Mago

1) Do you believe in ghosts? So many questions don’t have a straightforward answer.  The word has connotations I don’t care for (spooks in sheets, being afraid of the dark, which I’m not, superstition, which doesn’t interest me).  But I do know people who have an awareness of otherworldly things.  I’m prosaic and have never felt such a thing, but I don’t discount the possibility, and I think that my father is still around here somewhere, though it may be just in me rather than as a spirit presence.
I do believe I have a guardian angel.  He is a very good one and I don’t take him for granted.

2) Are you content with your life? Yes I am.  I have much to be content with, but I’m an accepting type and would probably make the best of any situation.  Having said that, there have been times when I’ve not been happy and have been unable to do anything about it and have had to stick it out.

3) Have you ever been at or close to point blank?* As in, breaking point – I think you mean, in the sense of losing control of my temper.  This is extremely rare and brief at that.  I remember once, in a row with my husband, feeling myself losing control and about to become hysterical – it was quite a tempting prospect at the time.  This was about 30 years ago.   I can’t see that happening ever again.  I am rarely angry, though often indignant, but anger is most effective when you don’t lose your temper, in any case.

4) Is philosophy necessary?  I once gave a job to an Argentinian guy who wanted to be a teaching assistant for the work experience, with the eventual intention of becoming a teacher.  “I am a pheelossopherr” he said several times during his interview – and he was too, his degree was in philosophy.  He was great.
Anyway.  Yes, it is.  But don’t look to me for it.  I’m far too down-to-earth.

5) Do you live with books?  I do, I always have and I’m not comfortable without books to hand.  I used to read voraciously, but I’ve mysteriously stopped in the last couple of years and read about a tenth of the books I used to.  However, books are more important to me than anything else for furnishing a home and I’m not happy unless I’ve got a couple of books on the go.

6) Have you ever been on stage? Only to give speeches.  I last acted when I was 10, when I played the Walrus in the school production of Alice in Wonderland.

7) Do you regularly read a printed newspaper? I do, two every day except Sunday, when I read one – which usually takes the rest of the week to finish.  I read The Times and the Eastern Daily Press.

8) Are you afraid of the future? No.  But I used to be.  It will be four years ago next month when I realised that I was no longer afraid to look ahead.  For several years, I could only manage by living in the present and didn’t look back or forward.  As this was behind me, I was then able to talk to my daughter about how I’d felt.  Since I stopped being afraid of the future (specifically, my old age and losing my husband) I’ve been happy.  Which is cause and which is effect — it was recovering, from a stressful time followed by bereavement, that made me lose my fear.

9) Do you know yourself? I think I do, I’ve given a lot of consideration to the subject.  I do accept myself, even the parts I don’t care for – although I work on changing the bits that can be changed.  But I’m very forgiving.  I try not to make excuses for myself, all the same.

10) Will you play on? Possibly not.  I don’t know about thinking up the questions, nor about whom to invite.  Not everyone likes doing memes, though I do.  But I’m diffident about passing them on.

Thanks, Mago.  I’ve been very earnest!