It’s all been good today, or entertaining at any rate.
The good – The dove survived. I’d steeled myself to find its corpse this morning but, when I peeped under the sheet, it was standing looking bemused by its water dish and the mixed corn had been eaten – that is, the maize had, rather than the wheat. So I tipped in a bit more corn and left it for a bit. Later, I looked again and there was a lively look in its eye, so I opened the coop. It spread its wings and flew strongly over the greenhouse to the south. So, if there were nothing else, I’d be happy.
However, still good – It is my youngest son’s birthday today. He is 36, which is clearly absurd and impossible, but there it is. Unless I’m told what to give my children, I give them money nowadays, but Ro has a four-year-old son and they love opening presents at that age, so I went to the greengrocer for fruit and the deli for deli stuff and home for chutneys and made up a hamper. I delivered it this afternoon, leaving it outside the door as they’d gone to the beach for the day. And I put some money into his account too, to buy something he wanted for himself rather than for the family.
The entertaining – The greengrocery can only serve one customer at a time, in this age of distancing and I stood at the door listening to an old man explaining to the assistant that “They” are trying to kill us by forcing us to breathe our own carbon dioxide which is poisonous and so he won’t wear a mask. Also, he didn’t want to use the shop sanitiser as he has his own homeopathic version. It’s only when you hear the words spoken that you realise how risible they are. There are reasons for not wanting to wear a mask and one can sympathise with some of them, but “They” wanting to kill you, though surgeons and dentists have worn them for decades and so have nurses and other really quite sensible people and they are alive and well, isn’t one of the sensible reasons. I chuckled and put on my (unnecessary, in Yagnub because there haven’t been any cases in the area for a while, but no matter) mask and joshed with the patient assistant.
Gigglingly entertaining – While I was waiting outside the deli, a woman parked with the novel method of reversing onto the pavement at a right angle to the road, driving into the disabled space and backing into the parking space; so badly that she had to go forward and back again; so badly that her tyres scraped the kerb. She overhung the disabled space by two feet when she got out, as well. The guy waiting in front of me chuckled with me and we agreed that masks are useful to hide one’s expression.
The deli has the lovely pâtés back in stock. The maker hadn’t been able to supply since lockdown. Hooray! Eloise cat was so pleased. Her lunch was duck liver pâté and Baron Bigod cheese and she went upstairs for a long nap. I had to bother her an hour later, to take her to the vet for a check-up. I acknowledged that we’d given her the freedom of the house, earlier than the surgeon had said, because she was so very unhappy and he’d said we could let her out after a month, last year and outside a fortnight later, which is now. The vet checked her over and said that her leg is fine, she walks well and shows no sign of a limp and the joint is stable. So we will let her outside tomorrow, which will bring her great joy.
When the Calor gas guys upgraded the system, the lead guy checked the tank and discovered it was down to 4%. Back in February, he’d fitted a gizmo that would notify the depot when the tank was down to 20%, this triggering another order. However, the order had not been triggered – but I’d assumed it would be and not checked, which was remiss of me. I’m taking it as very lucky that we didn’t run out. I phoned and, though Ed had activated the gizmo, I needed to do so as well. Okay, it is done now, but I’ll still check for the next few months. And the really nice delivery man has put in 700 litres to keep us going and we’ll get a full top-up before long.
I have found where the chickens are laying and will remove some of the eggs tomorrow, and mark the rest. I noticed that Scrabble has brought her chicks out into the garden for the first time this morning. They’ve had a lovely time exploring the flowerbeds. Scrabble watched protectively, on the alert for any danger. Chickens can be daft, but they can be excellent parents and husbands.
Old Hall Farm is back to its Friday night takeaways. We had Thai-style beef and also vegetable curry with rice and it was lovely, with enough left for another meal. I finally introduced myself to the farm owner, having emailed her weekly for a long time.
And that brings me to now, nine o’clock. Once in a while, I realise that this old, wizened heart has swelled to happiness. Today is one of those days. It feels good.