Fourteen jars of quince jelly, five jars of quince jam and four jars of cotignac. Yum.
I spent an hour this afternoon climbing up and down a ladder picking apples. The Sage helpfully moved the ladder and took my basket from me when full, to save me extra trips up and down. We’ll hardly eat any of them ourselves, as I don’t do puddings usually – well, who does? – but I wasn’t brought up to. Many more to pick, but some of them are too high for me so the Sage is constructing an apple-picker.
Only seven of us at the PCC meeting tonight, so I advised that one third is a quorum. The PCC numbers 18 at present, which sounds a lot but there are a lot of ex-officio members, including me. I don’t know if one third is the actual quorum, but it is now.
I’ve got a whole long list of things to do as a result of the meeting, including writing minutes from very few notes, as I joined in the discussion quite a lot (and I’m usually so quiet, aren’t I Dave?).
I finally made an appointment with the doctor about my dodgy leg, and I’m going tomorrow. I can’t chicken out or you’ll berate me.
Shop-work tomorrow morning, which is good as my leg will then ache realistically. Once I’d phoned the surgery, it stopped hurting nearly so much.
I’ve a church service at 11 on Sunday (playing the clarinet) and at 3 (playing the organ). In between, my chum John and I have decided to go out for lunch. My treat this time.
Another evening without wine, this is a slightly worrying development as I don’t miss it. I did, however, prepare by having a small glass at lunchtime, just in case I lost the taste for it. I am drinking quantities of tea instead, and have realised that most of my liquid intake is normally alcoholic.