450 years old, still lovely

Another satisfying day, though in a different way. I went to mid-Suffolk to do a probate valuation, for an old friend. That is, the old friend has died and I didn’t know his wife so well. She is also lovely and we talked a bit, without sentiment but with feeling, about losing our husbands. A delightful collection of Lowestoft and it was a pleasure to see and handle it. I need to type up the valuation tomorrow.

Home for a very late lunch, but local St Jude cheese is worth waiting for. I also had the indulgence of a mid-week glass of white wine at lunchtime because, frankly, I felt I deserved it. Later, I rodded out the kitchen drain. When the new outside tap was fitted yesterday, I noticed that the water from the kitchen sink (and, more significantly, the dishwasher) was draining slowly, so I lifted the cover and it didn’t take long to deal with, luckily. I have an alert on my phone calendar to check all the drains every three months, but I usually go ‘eh’ and ignore it. I also checked Wink’s drains, which are clear. They were fine until Rose’s son’s girlfriend moved in and somehow they kept blocking after that. No idea, genuinely.

I’ve bought, or at least ordered, a new clarinet. It’s a Yamaha. They make very good traditional instruments, who knew? It’s a YCL-650S, quite expensive enough to force me to practice very hard for the rest of my life. And then one of my grandchildren or great-grandchildren will have to learn to play it, to justify my purchase.

I wheelbarrowed three sacks of chicken feed down to their greenhouse this morning. It probably wasn’t wise to take the short route through an unused veg bed, because the soil is a bit lower than the path and I couldn’t manage to push it up to the path at the end. I had to pull the barrow back until I could persuade it on the path and then go ahead. Then I had to feed the chickens mealworms to keep them away from the door (most of them were outside until I appeared, then they ran in, hoping for treats. I got the barrow in without letting any chickens out and managed to lift one 20 kilo sack into the feeder. That was it, my shoulders had no more to give. I was obliged to leave the other two sacks until this evening. I noted then that their water container was little more than a muddy puddle, so fetched a can of water, washed out the drinker and refilled it. The chickens were thrilled with the dirty water I’d emptied out and drank that instead of the clean stuff. Coming in to the greenhouse, Hen Rietta wouldn’t get out of my way, so I had to shove her a bit. On the way out, two more chickens were in the way. One hen, one of the stupid ones, had laid an egg right in front of the door. Of course, as I couldn’t see it, I opened the door onto the egg, which broke. Chickens happily eat eggs, including the shells. As I was struggling with the bag of corn this morning, one of the cockerels jumped up beside me and crowed in my ear. He nearly met his Maker. I swore, he did it again, I swiped. Wretch.

Anyway, all is tranquil tonight. It’s nearly ten o’clock and I might go to bed within the next half hour. A clear day to catch up on paperwork tomorrow, then busy for the rest of the week which, as I said yesterday, is a Good Thing.

6 comments on “450 years old, still lovely

  1. Kipper

    Ahh the joys of home and chicken ownership🤣. The crowing cockerel while not pleasant for you at that moment, was very amusing to read.

  2. Blue Witch

    One hen, one of the stupid one…,” Yep, every flock has them!

    We’re currently having to use watering cans for drinkers too as the outside tap down that end has been temporarily removed. Why do hens and cats all prefer dirty water? Taste?

    Blocked septic tank drains and young ladies, no idea? Hmmm, I know. “Just one won’t matter!”

    Enjoy the clarinet when it arrives.

    1. Z Post author

      I think you’re right, re Ruby. Not that I saw any “white mice” as they’re apparently known in the trade. But since she left (nice girl, nothing personal), no problem.


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