Someone that Veronica knows has a couple of spare rooms which she uses for bed and breakfast. I’ve been trying to phone her. Having left a message once and rung a few more times, she tried to get me when I couldn’t answer and has never been available again. I wish she’d just send me a text or use the answerphone, she has both my mobile and land lines – if she’s reserved the rooms then we can follow up later and if they’re not available, I’ll look elsewhere. I wish Veronica had never mentioned her, I was quite happy to find somewhere to stay by myself.
Wink and I went to an excellent lecture yesterday and our friend saved seats for us. She always sits in the same area of the theatre and kindly saves seats, but it’s not actually where I prefer to sit. But I can’t really say that and it’s not as if it matters. But I’m getting to the stage in life where I want to do what I want to do. It was different with Tim, we agreed and we compromised if necessary and we were happy just to do things together, both of us were easy-going. I can see myself retreating more into my own company if I don’t watch out, which isn’t really good for me.
I found myself locked out today. I’d been to the hairdresser, to an exhibition at the church in Yagnub and to the greengrocer and pottered back home, only to find that my key wouldn’t turn in the door. Luckily, I knew where Wink was going to be, so went off to a mutual friend’s house and waited for her, to borrow her key, go in via the annexe and then unlock my door from the inside. It was very annoying, but thank goodness there was an alternative way in. I’ve squirted loads of WE40 all over the lock and it’s much better now, but Wink will give me a key to her front door so that we’ve always got options.
I’m further pissed off that the house buyers’ solicitor insists on having a copy of Tim and Viv’s marriage certificate, which will cost £14 and take three weeks to come. They want to be sure that she changed her name legally. That her will, death certificate and probate all make it clear isn’t enough, though it was for everyone else. I want to cry really, but it’s just temper.
So there it is, now I’ve admitted that, I should think of cheerful things. Happy blogging makes a happy Z.
The wisteria hasn’t flowered much for the past few years, either it’s been pruned wrongly or else there’s been a late frost. But I pruned it myself last autumn and we’ve been lucky with the frost – very lucky, they had to go out and light flares to protect the vineyard last week – and it’s going to be lovely in a few more days. The lilac is also out, so it’s all about the purple in the garden at present. And the bluebells are beautiful too. On the little patch of grass outside the door here, there used to be clumps of bluebells but when we had to dig up dead trees, the bulbs spread all over the area and it’s very pretty.
The bantams are very happy that, finally, annual avian flu has retreated and poultry are allowed out again. They’re having a wonderful time in the grass in their pen. I can’t let them be completely free, I just can’t deal with a lot of chicks again for the next few years, cute as they are. But few of these chickens know about complete freedom, so a 20ftx10ft run must seem pretty spacious, as long as it’s outside – their indoor one is twice that size.
I have local asparagus and new-laid eggs for dinner. And if that prospect doesn’t cheer me up, I’m not sure what will.