Nothing happening but painting, so there’s not a lot to write about. Every room is painted, although when I left at 6.45, the bathroom needed at least one more coat. Phil has an interview for a new job tomorrow, so one of us will give him a lift to that and then to the nearest station, as he’s going back to London in the evening.
I haven’t read the papers from last Friday onwards. I don’t know if I’ll ever have time to catch up. I suppose the world will be no better or worse for me reading about it.
I filled the car this evening (with petrol, that is). There was probably the better part of a gallon and a half still in it, and it cost £63.74. In April two years ago, it cost the low £40s to fill it; a year ago it was £50 and three months ago, £60. Shops are the sufferers, I’m afraid, as I no longer visit them except for essentials. I’ve been shopping twice in Norwich this year; once for Squiffany’s birthday present and once for clothes for me in a smaller size.
Have I mentioned our rabbit problem this year? They have eaten two lots of runner bean plants, but almost ignored the french beans. When we first moved here, there were a huge number of rabbits, but they got myxomatosis, twice, and then some foxes got most of the survivors, so the rabbit-proof netting around the veggie garden gradually got done away with as it was enlarged. We plan to get the wall built this year, which will sort out one and a half sides of the patch and greenhouses deal with all but one side. The Sage, who is a crack shot (he used to shoot at Bisley), got one, but hasn’t time to sit in wait. Actually, he only enjoys target shooting; he is no hunter at all and prefers to see wildlife going about its business, but some things are classed as vermin, including squirrels. He loves birds and is upset to see them taking eggs and babies from their nests. We don’t mind rabbits at all, as long as they restrict themselves to eating grass and flowers. They’re welcome. But not when they take the radishes and beans…we didn’t even bother to try lettuces this year.