The work on the roof is finished, pretty well. Guy will come back on Monday to tidy up. What we really want now is some heavy rain, to check if any of it is still getting into the house. It isn’t forecast, though. After the wettest year for a long time…

I’m going to Norwich tomorrow, picking Ro up from his house and parking at the Park’n’Ride, to go into the city together. Everyone who lives near Norwich simply calls it The City. We’ve both got various things to do, some of them together. Nice to have some mother and son time, he’s good company. Mostly, I’m easing off for a few days. I do need to do the auction accounts – I’ve paid everyone and notified everyone, though I need to contact one person again – but it’s the income and expenditure bit that I must write down. Then it’s just regular stuff, which is quite busy but no pressure.

I had a horrible experience yesterday, though it wasn’t as bad as the rat’s. I’ve tried, in the past, to control rats in various ways. Keeping them out doesn’t work. They gnaw and tunnel and get past every defence. Traps are not much good. They will catch a few rats, but about one in ten times, the poor rat isn’t killed, but is horribly injured. And it’s no good putting a trap where a chicken or anything else can get to it. I tried putting them under weighted-down milk crates, but chickens are intensely curious and jiggled at the side of the crate until the trap was set off. So, with the greatest reluctance, only poison will keep them at bay. If they aren’t controlled, it’s awful. They’ll run everywhere, even in front of you in daylight.

Yesterday, the chickens were making quite a noise in the henhouse, but two were still in the run. I had some greens and soaked bread for them, so fed them and shut the door and went to investigate. A dead rat was in the henhouse. I fetched a shovel to pick it up: it wasn’t dead. Poor creature. I put it in a pot and then in the bin – couldn’t leave it out in case something ate it. Then I fed the cats as usual. Today, Wink went to feed the cats and found that the chickens were out, and agitated. I realised that I had shut their door but hadn’t shut the other door, as I’d been wood-preserving the hen house yesterday and had been completely distracted from closing everything because of the rat. So lucky that the fox hadn’t found out. I’m chastened. Little Mama cat hadn’t had her breakfast, because the chickens bullied her, but when I let them in their run, they hurried in for their own breakfast and a drink, so I fed her again. All calm after that, but I felt dreadful.

If anyone has the faintest idea what to do about rats that doesn’t involve poison, I’d be glad to know. I won’t need to do anything for a few months though, anyway.

I keep getting notifications that people (spammers) have changed the password on their registration here. People, you can’t post unless I approve your comment. If you’re okay, you won’t have to be approved again, but the first comment is judged by me before it turns up here. And you’ll go into spam if there’s a link. 748 of those, right now, which have all been deleted unread. Frankly, I’m going to assume that anything from “Googlebot” isn’t any friend of mine.

Today was fun. I climbed up the scaffolding, to the big Tudor chimneys. But, having written that, I realise I haven’t mentioned scaffolding at all.

If you’ve visited this house, you’ll know that it’s quite a complicated layout and there are bits of roof going all over the place. Every so often, rainwater comes in. Particularly, where we had an extension added about 35 years ago, plus the study, which was converted from a little back porch before we moved in.

In fact, thinking about it, the older the construction, the less problem there has been. It was 20th century builders who caused the bother. Anyway, I asked a friend for a recommendation, as finding builders isn’t always easy and the chap, whom I’ll call Guy, though that’s nothing like his actual name, called round and had a look several months ago. Eventually he sent a quote and eventually he came. I’d wanted it done in the summer, but at least the autumn weather has been kind.

Nice guy, very chatty and friendly and he’s done some of the work alone and some with a mate. It’s the highest part of the house, so scaffolding has been necessary. He asked if I’d like to go up and inspect the work. I don’t need much encouragement to scramble around on ladders, so up I went.

After that, I painted more of the henhouse with wood preservative. I’m late in the year to do that too, but at least it’s being done now.

Online friends are divided into those who use other social media and those who don’t. Ex-bloggers who use the other platforms just don’t look at blogs any more – well, I do, but now that so few of us friends comment on blogs, it’s not quite the same. Of course, blogging is still best – that is, the best days of blogging. But I’m a sentimental old thing.

I have accounts on quite a few of those other platforms, but I don’t really use them. Facebook, yes, because it’s still the one most people have an account with, so I connect with friends there, even if they – or I – don’t write a post very often.

Anyway, here I still am, but I really have been busy. It seems to have been nonstop since mid-July. However, I’ve got a week now – yes, a whole week, with only two things in my diary (albeit, quite a lot of neglected matters to catch up on) and so I plan to do some serious relaxing.

This evening, there was a church service to commission our rector as rural dean. I was in charge of refreshments, so provided fizz (Waitrose Cava and elderflower fizz and other wines and soft drinks) and asked others to do food. It was a really good service and I thanked the Bishop (and enthused about various things, from antique candle snuffers to Norwich silver to hazel croziers and walking sticks to CJ Sansom’s novels and he took it all very well, so I like to think we made a connection) and then there was a cheery party for an hour or two afterwards.

I’ve just got one job to do now, this evening. I’m not quite au fait with the procedure, so it’ll take me a while to negotiate MailChimp and SmartSurvey, but … actually, I’ve gone off the idea. Though people brought delicious looking food to share, I didn’t have time to eat anything so, by the time I got home, I was very hungry and ate eggs on toast, but now, at 10pm, I’m flagging.

Sensibly, I cancelled my online 10.30am meeting. I’m free, apart from washing several dozen glasses (I’m not an idiot, they’re going in the dishwasher) and will deal with SmartSurvey then. And I’ll blog.

We went over to Norwich this morning to hear a Nadfas lecture and I drove to the nearest car park, just in case … but it only takes about 30 cars, so it wasn’t surprising there wasn’t a space. I dropped Wink off so that she could order coffee (it’s very good coffee, but it takes ages) and went off to the other car park. I was about to drive in when I had a message from her, to say the lecture was cancelled because of a tech failure. Luckily, I hadn’t quite left the road, because the car park is underground and has no signal.

It wasn’t discovered until after 9am, so the lecturer was already on her train and the committee, though an immediate email was sent out, had to wait and turn people away. I’m so sorry for them and glad that it never happened on my watch. No one’s fault.

We returned home, except that Wink suggested stopping for coffee at the farm shop. The breakfast/brunch menu was put in front of us…we changed the habit of a lifetime by ordering second breakfast. Obviously, we both skipped lunch.

I’ve caught up with stuff since, having gained a couple of hours. Now very sleepy. But the winter duvet is on the bed and so is the electric blanket. Of course, this has heralded a relatively warm few days. I’ll be sweltering. But I have hopes that eCat will cuddle me – of course, this will make me even hotter, but I don’t mind that.

Two more emails to write, then I’ll read for a while. Still working on the relaxation thing, but it does seem to be having an effect.

Every time I think I’m doing okay, something happens. But it’s going to, for the foreseeable, so there’s no point in fussing about it.

I took Tim’s car over to the garage for its MOT and annual service. They’d said I could have a courtesy car, which I needed as Wink doesn’t drive any more. As it was Tim’s car, I’ve been thinking of him all day. When I went to fetch the car, they said how much they like it – it’s the garage where it spent a few months, back in the early spring. It’s a really fabulous garage, I’m grateful to the chap in Yagnub who recommended it. I saved at least £3,000 compared to going to BMW (who would have tried hard to convince me that I should buy a new car) and they repaired rather than replaced, which always has to be good.

This evening, I had a meeting and came home to find a new battery pack for my phone and watch. The instruction leaflet was written in print that was too small even for me. But I had a contact lens in.

I think I mentioned that I’m living in my dining room? So I’m keeping things, everyday stuff, in the bureau. But I wasn’t sure where I’d left my lens cases and opened the wrong drawer and found Tim’s wedding ring. Well, that wasn’t a good few minutes. It hurt.

Then I closed the drawer, opened the right one, was able to read the leaflet once I didn’t have a contact lens in (never expected to have perfect sight – or rather ideal sight, because I’m still a bit shortsighted) and am charging up the power bank. And my watch. I’ll do my phone when I’m in bed.

Ecat has taken to deciding when I should go to bed. She doesn’t do it every night, but quite often. She wants to go upstairs, so I have to go too. Honestly, it isn’t worth arguing and, anyway, she’s being so sweet and affectionate at present that I don’t want to do anything but agree with everything she says. But it’s only 8.25 at present, so I hope she’ll allow me another hour or two.

I’m sorry to have to let you know that our friend Pat, who blogged for many years as Past Imperfect (Pi) has died. She left the first ever comment on this blog so was, in that sense, my first ever blog friend. We never met. I was going to visit her neck of the woods 10 years ago, but then Russell’s illness became apparent and I didn’t ever go. She was 94, nearly 95 and stayed in her beloved home after her husband died, which was a good thing. Her son Andrew posted on Facebook that she died yesterday, which was very kind and I’m sure she had asked him to, as she knew how much her online friends mattered to her and she to us.

We met the family – my family, that is – all but two grandchildren (one was working and the other didn’t quite make it out of bed in time) for lunch today. Just a visit to Pizza Express, but it’s very conveniently placed and even the university student made it there. Lovely to see everyone.

Early start tomorrow, the car (Tim’s car) is having its MOT and service. They’re letting me have a courtesy car, which is good, now that Wink doesn’t drive and can’t pick me up.

I’ve been away again, this time in East Sussex. I’d never been to Brighton nor to Glyndebourne, so off we went. It was a short visit arranged by the Nadfas group I go to in Norwich. There were over 50 of us and it was a lovely trip. Al kindly held the fort here while we were away. On our return, I lit the Aga straight away, which I’d been looking forward to.

The service chap, who also looks after the Agas at Sandringham as it happens, fitted a new burner back in the summer and it’s certainly a lot easier to turn on. However, whilst it used to be impossible to turn down – at its lowest setting it was at roasting temperature – now it’s the other way round. I’ve got it at 5 out of 7 heat settings and it’s nowhere near as hot as it used to be. I can turn it right up when I need to, of course, but when there’s a lot in the oven, it uses up a lot of heat and I’ve been accustomed to turning it up to keep the temperature hot enough for the final roasting of potatoes. I don’t know whether it’ll be hot enough for that – although I hardly ever need it, of course, now, for that.

We received a very enthusiastic welcome from eCat, unusually so. I found out why, when I went to bed. Al had shut the bedroom doors – she could sleep on any downstairs chairs, but cats don’t like closed doors. In the night, I woke up and Eloise cat came to cuddle me. She kneaded my arm for at least half an hour, purring. I didn’t mind, but it was quite painful as she had her claws out and it was the inside of my arm. Then she went to sleep, on the same arm. It took a while before I was able to wriggle out and then she wrapped herself round my shoulder instead.

She’s just come in to tell me that she wants to go to bed. I must obey.

Here are a few pictures of the caravan, for How Do We Know.

Two pictures of the living area. The sofa on the left unfolds into a double bed.

There are also two bedrooms and a small bathroom – that is, no bath, but a shower cubicle, loo and washbasin. Outside at the back, there’s a patio by the hedge.

The caravan has net curtains and proper curtains. And a blind in the kitchen. Lovely Tim bought the caravan in 2010, so 14 years of light and sun has wrecked the nets and they’re falling apart. When I went down last, I measured them, to buy more. But I just put the length and said either “wide” or “narrow” in the notes, so realised when I looked again that I didn’t know how wide or narrow, because I’m clearly an idiot. This time, as it’s the last visit of the year, I took them all down and brought them home – I’d forgotten to take a tape measure (I did mention I’m an idiot) and asked Wink to help me measure them here. We ended up giggling. We dropped an end of a curtain, we dropped the tape measure, I mixed up length and width at one point (the idiot thing again) and some of the widths didn’t seem to equate with the sizes of the windows; or rather, they were different widths from each other. We concluded that the person who made them was pretty happy-go-lucky and wasn’t too bothered.

There were ten curtains but, when I’d written down measurements before, I’d written down eleven. I counted my way round all the windows in the caravan and suggested we count the curtains again. Still ten. I felt there should be eleven or twelve. I also wondered if I’d included both bedroom windows. But there were only ten curtains … or were there? Wink, amusedly, offered to count them again. I said I’d check the car in case I’d left some in there. I knew I’d taken down all the curtains, I said, because I thought I’d get confused if I left some behind. We almost fell on the floor laughing.

Anyway, in the end, I decided I’d buy as many damn curtains as I wanted to and hang them all and pretend that was what I’d intended all along. So I have. Sadly, our wonderful local shop that sold fabric and haberdashery and a few clothes (mostly nightclothes and underwear, which I suspect was built for comfort rather than speed) and carpets and beds and furniture and almost everything you didn’t know you needed until you spotted it when you went in for some wool, well, it’s shut. A beautiful, if shabby old Georgian building in the heart of the town, a brother and sister had run it for decades since their parents retired and now wanted to retire themselves. Their families didn’t feel able to take it on, though they are carrying on with the flooring department, in another premises round the corner. So I have ordered the curtains from Amazon. I’ll put them in the boot of the BMW, so that I don’t have time to lose them – that is, forget the safe place where I put them – by next April. Because I’m an – no, I take that back, this time. I think ahead, to avoid being an idiot, once in a while.

I’ve had quite a satisfying week, on the whole. This time last week, I went off to Pembrokeshire, calling on John G on the way. He used to write the splendid Publog, but the pub he went to closed down and somehow, though he started a new blog about visits to the next pub, he lost heart after a while. He’s been disabled for over 20 years, since a tree fell on his car – which he was driving at the time – in a storm. I first visited him 11 years ago, he mentioned, which I knew was correct, as it was the year before the Sage died. Anyway, I cooked him lunch and we chatted for a few hours and then I drove the rest of the way. I had a good time at the caravan. There was a tremendous storm, with hard rain and wind, the next evening. Bits of wood from the trees behind the hedge were hitting the caravan and then there was a power cut, so I fished out some candles. I don’t mind a bit of weather and a loud sea. I was cosy and I had books and a gas heater and cooker. I just had two days there and drove back on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I fetched our Nadfas, as I still resolutely call it, speaker from the station. I’d heard her speak, only a fortnight earlier, on Vermeer, so knew she was excellent. She was just as good talking about Van Gogh, in his 444 days in Provence, painting obsessively and marvellously. The current exhibition at the National Gallery is amazing. If you can, do go. I want to go again.

On Thursday I was vaccinated – all I haven’t been vaccinated against is shingles, which is the one I really want and they haven’t yet offered me, so I must phone and arrange it. On Friday, we went to Norwich and did some necessary admin-type errands, so I feel a bit more competent than usual. Tomorrow, it’s my favourite street fair in Yagnub: the food one. I go quite mad and buy vast quantities of everything nice. I’ve told Ro about it and he may join us – he’d semi-arranged to see a friend, but was going to check if it was still happening.

I’ve also talked to all my children in the past three days, which doesn’t happen every week, so I count that as another plus. Eldest grandson had his 18th birthday and all seems to be well there. He’s extremely busy with schoolwork, music and his part-time job, which suits him. He was a bit bored, back in the spring, but now he hasn’t got time to be bored….

It took a while to be sure I wasn’t doing the wrong thing, but I’ve got the SmartSurvey account set up, the first survey done and set out ready to go. It’s too early now, the lecture won’t happen until Wednesday. But I can just Do It then. And hope it works, of course.

Now, I’ll spend the rest of the evening reading. I’ve had a bath, I’m ready to curl up in an armchair next to the woodburner and I won’t bother to empty and refill the dishwasher until the morning. I don’t work in the evenings nowadays, unless I have to.

I used to, as a matter of routine. I was always busy in the daytime, so paperwork, which includes computer work, mostly happened out of office hours. Though, looking back a long time – before email – Mondays were traditionally housework mornings and then I did any paperwork necessary. Once email came along, Monday morning was spent on the computer. I’ve always convinced myself that my smartphone, years later, helped keep me away from the computer, because I could glance at anything coming in and decide what to do – a brief reply from the phone, go and deal with it or else delete it or save it for later. But smartphones distract in other ways. And they aren’t conducive to relaxed blogging.

All the same, the evening has gone well and I’m stepping away from the internet.