The day turned out to be somewhat more eventful than we’d expected.  To start with, it was my fault.  We had eggs for supper last night and ate the last of the bread.  I meant to make more today anyway, so suggested muesli for breakfast.  And that turned out to be a bit much for Tim’s crowned tooth, which he gently removed from his mouth after his second spoonful.

So we phoned the dentist in Norwich, who fitted him in this morning. I drove LT there, to show solidarity.  And the tooth can’t be saved in the long term, and that means a fair bit of dental work to come, but he’d known it was coming sooner or later.

I got the dough started after lunch and it’s gone rather well this time, I added a little more water than usual and it seems to have been the right thing to do.  I’d intended to start writing down the lots for the next sale, but that hasn’t quite happened today, which means it must tomorrow.  It’s all right, just laziness that meant I used any excuse not to start on the most boring bit of the whole job.  I enjoy the rest.

We tried some of the dried tomatoes with lunch and they were lovely.  A whole lot of tomatoes only half-filled a Kilner jar (Mason jar to you lovely Americans) so I might make another batch.  We had duck liver pâté, which went down very well with Eloise cat.  It might be her favourite, right up there with crab.

When I went to put the chickens to bed, the old bantam was huddled down under the feeder.  I stroked her and she didn’t move away and I picked her up.  She lost a toe a while back and I put her up and down on the perch night and morning, so she’s used to being held, but she was quite subdued.  She’s the only one that the foxes didn’t kill and she’s very old – she hasn’t laid an egg for a year and a half – and she’s quietly fading away, as they do.  I’m so sad, she’s the last of Russell’s bantams.  But it’s natural and gentle, there’s nothing to be done, I’ll bring her indoors tomorrow if she isn’t better, until the end.  We will, I hope, hatch some eggs from Rose’s bantams, which are from the same line, so keeping on the Churchyard Chicken family.

I made a pork casserole, adding cider, lemongrass, ginger and a chilli.  I’d meant to add another chilli – the first one is a very mild variety, hardly warranting the name, and the second was from a plant that had got broken as a seedling, so had fruited late.  This was the first one to ripen to yellow, so I sliced it and popped a bit from near the stalk into my mouth, to check how hot it was.  They’re hotter at the stalk end.

I was still dousing my mouth with sips of milk ten minutes later, in some pain.  That chilli didn’t make it into the casserole.  It wasn’t the style of thing I’d planned.

I’d also picked some corn on the cob, so put on the kettle to boil water while I heated up the Baby Belling mini cooker hob.  As I turned on the hob, the light above went off.  That bulb didn’t last long, I thought peevishly, and turned on the other, which didn’t work, and I belatedly twigged that the electricity – the power sockets anyway, not the main lights – had gone off.  So I climbed up, turned off all the individual switches, turned on the main one, turned the others on one by one – it clicked off again.  I called through for LT.  My poor old knees don’t do climbing on and off a high stool too often.  The upshot was, both hobs trip the switch.  We didn’t try the oven.  It’s a very old cooker, 15-20 years, though it’s had only moderate use.  We’ll check it tomorrow, change the fuse, but I suspect we will turn the Aga on instead and replace it when we feel the need.  At least the dear old thing cooked my loaf of bread for me.  I’d have had to run through to Rose otherwise.  I’ve looked on the John Lewis website but they don’t have what I want, whilst Amazon does.  What’s a Z to do?

Tomorrow, work will happen.  Oh yes it will.