I lurched out of bed late this morning. I woke up, dozed and woke again more zonked than before. I lay supine for another half hour before I was able to stir myself.
When I arrived downstairs, I discovered that there had been a message from our chainsaw-wielding chum, to say that he had to work this morning so can’t come to help with the trees – we have a large ash tree down and a scrubbier hawthorn. They are both on the field, but the roots of the ash have come up, leaving a hole by the beck and the thorn has fallen over the beck itself. They will both need sorting out; let’s hope that, once cut, the ash stump will just drop back into place. The beck has a gravel base and disturbance isn’t good for it.
Squiffany and I did have our happy day yesterday. We went for a walk round the village. I’d thought to walk into Yagnub, but Tilly the dog looked so hopeful that I changed my mind. A dog on an extending lead and a child in a pushchair are not easy to manage on the main road to Yagnub, which has a narrow footpath. Tilly feels very self-important when she is responsible for Squffany. It is the only time when she is not nervous of other dogs. She even goes into territory-marking – stopping to pee every few minutes and, hilariously, trying to lift her leg against a wall or lamppost like a dog. She gave a hard stare at a cat, surprised behind a parked car, but they both moved in in a dignified way.
When we arrived home, the Sage’s car was missing. My bag was in the house and we were locked out. Fortunately, I’d fetched something out of my car before going out and left the key in the ignition. So the three of us went in to Yagnub to ask Al if his father was around. He had, it seemed, received a phone call from an Elderly Friend in Distress, whose electricity was off after the gale and who was worried about the contents of her freezer. Sage forgiven for forgetting us, I borrowed money from Al and we went out to lunch here.*
Dilly arrived home while Squiffany was eating tea – scrambled eggs on toast followed by a satsuma … I’d gone for the simple option that I knew she’d eat. Sqiffany wielded a spoon in one hand and a fork in the other skilfully and didn’t notice her mother for a few minutes. Then “oh, hello, Mummy, hello Pugsley,” she said and kept on eating. Halfway through the satsuma, she suddenly looked at me. “Thank you, thank you, Granny” she said. “Hug.” And I received a juicy orange hug and kiss.
*This is more child-friendly than the review sounds as you can have anything from a teacake or sandwich to a full meal.