Z finishes work for the week

The witness statement thing took ages, about two and a half hours.  And then I had a quite complicated meeting this afternoon, because the treasurer had not kept the accounts for the last couple of years and quite a lot had to be explained.  It’s been dealt with and the new person has got everything up and running again but I’ve written up the minutes while I still understand them.  I’ve sent ’em off now, so it’s up to the rest of the committee to correct them if they dare if necessary.

I’m still on two committees, but they’re both trusteeships and one meets once a year, the other (of which I’m secretary) twice, so it hardly counts.  I formulated a five year plan to remove myself from all committees and it only took fifteen years to succeed, apart from these two.  But I see no reason ever to succumb again.  It’s all jollity and ha-ha-ha-ha nowadays.

Tomorrow is a free day, I think.  I must wrap LT’s birthday present, pay some cheques into the bank and think what to ask Wince to do in the garden, but none of them counts as obligations.  The garden is so dry that the grass hasn’t grown at all for weeks.  There are nettles around the banks of the beck, but that’s cover for small animals and food for caterpillars, so they should stay.  I’ve got a bit of weeding to do, so I’ll ask him to help with that.  There’s a great big teasel in a flower bed that shouldn’t be there – I don’t like to think of the mess that the seed heads would make in Eloise cat’s fur.  There’s also a massive thistle on the Ups and Downs that I don’t want to go to seed.  But on the whole, the place is about as tidy as I want it to be, which isn’t very tidy at all.  I like a relaxed garden where small creatures can live.

The beans have grown a lot since I last looked, nearly a week ago.  I picked some french beans and the first cucumber, and ate them this evening.  I can’t grow cucumbers in the greenhouse, it’s too dry (I used to grow them in the chickens’ greenhouse) so I have them outdoors.  They’re the thick-skinned, prickly ones, of course, but they’re delicately delicious.  When I have a glut, which will probably be within a week, I’ll make lovely bread-and-butter pickle.  And I’m keeping my eye on the fig tree.  There should be a fabulous crop.

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