And just the one picture. You’ll observe that Dave put the final capping on the pillar and finished the brick on its right side, and I got within a few bricks of finishing the other side before I had to leave. Dave tells me that they paused for lunch, whereupon the Sage consulted him on the cooking of a ready-made pizza – “Is it ready?” “You see those black bits at the edge? – It’s ready”. Afterwards, because there was still some mortar left, Dave carried on for an extra hour.

We harvested the squashes in the afternoon and then I went with Al into his garden.  He pointed out to the children that the bird feeders need filling.  Apparently, the birds poke grass stalks into the feeder in an apparent attempt to pull out the last few seeds.  That was news to me.

Today’s work later, the internets is so slow today that it’s taken me half an hour to write this and load two photos and I’ve no more time – off next door to babysit.  I’ll be back later, I’m hoping to swap places with the Sage for a bit as I’ve got work to do here.

Whoops. I took photos of the wall and then forgot to write the post. Sorry, darlings. Two posts tomorrow. Unless I do two wall posts in one.

Dave will not be pleased with me.

Of course, I could get up very early and write it, but that’s not so very likely. I mean, it doesn’t really matter, does it?

Sad to say, having missed the Sage so much for the two nights he was away, he kept changing position in bed last night and woke me up after only a few minutes’ sleep.  I wasn’t at all happy about it.  I asked him quite politely if he was all right.  He assured me he was – “because you’re wriggling about a bit,”  “Yes I am,” he said, quite happily.  Hm.

Anyway, I had a meeting with the school Head this afternoon and I can’t quite remember the context, but he remarked that I have a Look, at which he knows someone is in for it, usually him.  I should think so, it’s taken years of work to get that Look perfected and none of my family takes any notice.  During half term, a party of school staff are going on a day trip to France, to the WW1 battlefields.  Well, one of them, I suppose, there’s not time for more in a day.  I said something about a busman’s holiday and he agreed, saying he’s driving the bus – literally.

Oh, how we laughed.

My cold is in retreat and I feel much better now.  Tomorrow, if weather permits, we’ll bricklay.  I’m going out at 11 o’clock, so will just work for an hour and then leave Dave and the Sage to it.  I’m going out to lunch.  You may not be surprised to learn that I belong to a ladies’ luncheon club (not just any ladies, one has to have executive status – shuddup, no really, get off the floor where you fell in your mirthful paroxysm) and that is where I am going.  I am afraid that I lower the tone rather.

I heard the rustling again today and then I saw the mouse again.  It wasn’t a house mouse and it was looking worried.  I was worried too.  Now I’d seen it, I didn’t want to set a trap to kill it – yes, I know about humane traps, but mice, when released, come straight back in again, so we’ve never used them.  I got a cushion and put it ready.

A while later, it came out again, and was moving very uncertainly.  I dropped the cushion over it and reached underneath to fetch out the little creature.  I fumbled for my phone to take a picture – as ever, I think of you first, darlings – and it sat in my hand with no attempt to get away.

It was a dear little thing, a vole rather than a mouse, and I carefully put it out in the garden, where it sat without running away.  I had to leave for a meeting, but got back an hour or so later and checked and it was still there, shaking hard.  I picked it up again and it seemed glad of the company.  The Sage was home by then.  “Maybe it’s hungry?” he suggested.  I asked him to get some of the chopped maize we buy in for the chickens.  It was so sweet, it immediately picked up a piece – with its back foot – and started nibbling.  Thinking it would be easier to eat, the Sage went and fetched some bread, but it was too busy with the corn.

“Shall I put a box for it in the porch?” asked the Sage concernedly.  I discovered that the Sage is a kinder and more sentimental person than I am.  “Er, it’s a vole.  A wild vole.  Let’s not make a pet of it, hey.  I’ll find somewhere safe for it and we will leave it.”

I’m not checking.  If it doesn’t make it, I’d rather not know.  As far as I’m concerned, I’m just glad I didn’t kill it and did do something practical to save it.  But that’s about it.

By the way, you know how mice haven’t got sphincters and so, when you’ve handled one, your hand smells of wee?  Voles evidently have, because it didn’t.  Fairy clean, as I used to say to my daughter after a bath (some 30 years ago).

I did wash though.  Obv.

I put off going to bed for as long as I reasonably could, and eventually huddled dismally in a nest of pillows sometime after 1 o’clock this morning.  Still couldn’t sleep however, my feet were cold.  This morning, I was in no hurry to get up and lounged reading for a while.  I was feeling a bit sorry for myself because I developed a cold overnight – that is, it was coming on all day yesterday but I pretended it wasn’t happening.

In the evening,  I was sitting here when I saw a movement across the floor.  Yes, it must be a mouse.  Less than a week without a dog and they are taking advantage.  Mind you, this is the sort of house where you can’t always keep mice out and we have to set traps every so often.  Once, at about this time of year, when the days were getting colder but it was still possible to leave the door open, one scuttled in the open door and straight into the drawing room.  I chased it around the room and eventually managed to catch it under a large, soft cushion – then had to put my hand under and feel around to pick it up.  It’s not the first time I’ve caught a live mouse, I did a similar thing once with a dear little mouse that had taken up residence in her conservatory.  I cornered it behind a geranium and grabbed.

In both cases, the mouse screwed up its little eyes tight shut and bit my finger, obviously expected to be about to breathe its last.  So I can tell you that tiny little mouse teeth don’t draw blood.

This afternoon, I’m mostly doing laundry.  This is not a terribly hands-on job, of course – I have got a pile of hand-washable stuff to do at some time, but I’m not quite that bored.  But I’ve stripped the beds from when the family came to stay – I know that was about three weeks ago, but I hadn’t done it – and changed towels and all that sort of stuff, so I’ll have this evening free, once I’m back from dinner next door, to do the typing I haven’t done during the day.

I forgot to give the chickens their bread this morning – they have half a large loaf, soaked, in the morning – and about 11 o’clock I heard insistent clucking outside the door.  My big brown hen and little pale one, both of which are friendly with me, were reminding me.  I got the bread ready and took it out to the lawn.  I counted up – there seem to be 25 of them, which is about right.  One died of old age a couple of weeks ago and, last month, we lost three of them to a neighbour’s dog.

This should never happen of course, but does once in a while.  It is a Springer spaniel and normally the owners keep it on a lead until they’re on the marshes and can let it go for a good run.  But the parents were out, the 13-year-old daughter took it for a walk and, pretty stupidly, let it off the lead on the road.  Which doesn’t have a pavement, by the way.  It took off across our field and did what came naturally.  At least, being free range, the chickens can scatter, but they weren’t all able to get away.  Springers are fine dogs if they are very well trained and given loads of exercise, but they can be quite unsuitable pets otherwise.

Just had an email from Weeza suggesting that she and Zerlina come over on Friday. That will be good, haven’t seen them since last Monday.

This is a first for me.  I don’t think I’ve ever spent a night entirely alone in the house in my life.  It may be almost beyond belief but, although I haven’t had a dog for my whole life, in the few years I haven’t, I had children at home so when the Sage was away, someone else was here.  I’m not afraid of being alone or anything – just saying.

Actually, I’ve just being screaming down the phone at the Sage for twenty minutes.  He was oblivious (I’ve got a really sore throat now) – he had put away his mobile without cancelling the call.  Since I pay his bill, I wasn’t at all keen on the idea of paying for hours he hadn’t actually used.  I tried ringing Wink’s mobile and it was switched off, and in the end caught them when they got back to her place.  The Sage often does this when using my phone and doesn’t believe me when I tell him.

Anyway, I’ve taken the wall pictures at last, and I’ll add them to the last Wall post, day 50.  Dave is quite upset at the thought of losing a day’s record – if I hadn’t done it myself, I’m sure he’d have brought his camera along next time and taken photos.

It was Harvest Festival today and a lot of people turned up for the service, and all stayed for coffee and cakes afterwards.  Fortunately, I’d made lots and so had Brenda, which was very kind as I was on the rota for today and not her.  It all went well and then I came home, wrote a letter for the Sage and then he set off for Wiltshire.  He has a magneto that has lost its magnetism and there isn’t anywhere locally that can put it right now, but he knows somewhere in Swindon.  It’s for a 90+-year-old stationary engine.

I looked after the children this afternoon while Al and Dilly saw to the bees – they’ve been waiting for a sunny and reasonably warm day.  They were concerned that I’d be alone for the evening and wanted to invite me in for dinner, but they didn’t happen to have any food in and weren’t sure what they were eating themselves – fortunately, I’d bought a chicken which was a bit stupid for one person, so I cooked dinner for all of us.  They’re doing lasagne for tomorrow and have invited me.

I shall go and add photos to BOTW – Day 50.

I forgot to take the photos.  I’ve never done this before, always taken them on the day we did the bricklaying.  I went out first thing and bought a lot of fruit and veg, then flowers, then picked more veg and went to the church.  It only took us an hour and a half to get it all ready.  I did baskets of produce – I like to see plenty of vegetables at a harvest service.  They are all taken round to village pensioners afterwards by the oldest class at the school.  I also did a fairly exuberant flower arrangement – I hadn’t been able to get the flowers I wanted and they were a bit random, so I went for the flamboyant look, with the view that I’d get away with it if I was confident enough.

Which is rather my philosophy, in my middle years, I admit.

I was right out of wine, except for the good stuff, and the champagne (actually just ordinary fizz, can’t remember what) in the fridge, so I went to the supermarket, which was really busy (for Yagnub, that is) and then shopping for the weekend, and then came back to make cakes for tomorrow.  Have lunch and then make cakes, that is.  I fell asleep.

Anyway, all done now and I babysat the children this evening, as their parents went to a party.  This is the first time I’ve sat at the computer all day.  After this, I shall watch an episode of The Wire, which I haven’t had time for all week.

As I haven’t photos of the wall yet, I thought you might like to see the slow worm that a friend found in the road the other day.  I took the picture and there hasn’t been a suitable time to post it.  If you aren’t fond of snakes, of course this isn’t one – it’s a lizard.  I think it is very beautiful.

I’m coming to the reluctant conclusion that I must enjoy being over-stretched.  Not in the sense of working at my peak or anything positive like that, but rather in taking on too much, in the full knowledge that I’ll be rushing round in a couple of months, barely keeping up, feeling wildly stressed and not doing anything well for a bit until I magically seem to pull it all together at the last minute and forget that I felt out of my depth.

I’ve never been to Kings Lynn before.  Within a couple of miles, but never visited the town until today.  And I was told that the Norfolk/Lincolnshire border is the North/South divide, as far as the long/short a sound is concerned.  Boston, in Lincolnshire, is only a few miles from Kings Lynn in Norfolk, but there they say ‘bath’ to rhyme with ‘math’, whilst in the Norfolk town they say barth, like every other good Southerner.  And most of the bad ones.

Sorry, darlings, I was out until after 5.30 and I slumped with a glass of beer.  Because I only had enough wine for a single glass and that just wasn’t going to cut it.  By the time I realised I hadn’t taken the photos today, it was getting dark, so I’ll have to do it another day.  Not tomorrow, I’ll be out from 7.30 am until 9.30 or so in the evening.  Out most of Friday too, so I’m making no promises before the weekend.

However, I can give a verbal report – I had to get ready for my meeting this afternoon, so I only worked for just over an hour.  But it was enough to add a row of bricks, the penultimate row, on one side of the pillar.  Meanwhile, Dave finished off the central pillar.  He didn’t add the cap, as it’s quite heavy and he wants the mortar to be set firm on the pillar.  On the other side of the pillar, there are two courses of bricks still to go – but that’s only one morning’s worth of work.  We are actually within three days of finishing, we believe.

Whether all three of those days will happen this year is another matter.  We’d like to finish the brickwork, but if the weather turns, this may be it.  Last year, we did carry on until the 26th October and were abruptly halted by Dave’s illness, although it was getting jolly cold by then.  We shall see.  I’ve got two or three days free next week if the weather’s fine, don’t know about the Sage.

In any case, we will have a party next year – May or June suit you?  You are all genuinely and cordially invited and we’ll pick a Saturday to suit as many as possible, if you let me know….no darlings, not yet.  Far too soon, the eggs aren’t laid yet, let alone hatched.

It does look brilliant.  I’m so pleased with it.  The only thing for which I regret the thought of finishing is that Dave won’t come and see us unless we give him a job to do.  He points out that a social call doesn’t suit his workaholic ethos.  We could, of course, find a lot more jobs – there’s a toolshed to be built, a boathouse to be demolished and reconstructed, a summerhouse to renovate – but no more bricklaying.

Still, we’re not there yet.  Still a few days of fun to come.

Sunday – pictures added.

If you think that third photo is crooked, it’s not that – the ground is sloping and, because the right side of the wall is at the full height of bricks and the left isn’t, it gives the impression of being on the huh.  I took the next three photos at my eye level, from the leftmost brick to the rightmost, and then one of the ones on the wall at right angles to this one.  All level along the top.

The final one, I just stepped back a few paces.