Waking up to blue skies and bright mornings followed by afternoon sunshine is a treat we weren’t expecting this week. Mr G has dusted off the trailer, and compost is getting shovelled mostly by the man himself but also accompanied by the Golden One who is shovelling it straight into his jaws. He’s partial to a pile of compost with rotting leaves, as he is to a heap of horse do dah, (the Golden One, not Mr G, he prefers a Hazy Jane or a Whitstable). The remnants of a once loved terracotta pot make a great dessert. There’ll be a veritable amount of gas expelled into the atmosphere later today, (again, the GO not the DG… hopefully). If only he’d do what we ask, when we ask and we’re really not asking much. Temporarily, we have a new postie, he’s not a huge dog fan, or maybe just dislikes slobber. He wants to do his job and leave quickly. Poor chap looked traumatised by the experience. And that’s exactly what it is, an experience. Anyone who gets as far as this side of the gate gets ‘the treatment’; jump jump lick, jump jump lick lick, jump lick jump lick, stay up on back legs and waltz around with visitor until one of the fun sponges sharing the homestead manages to extract him from them. It’s not always, in fact rarely ever, a successful operation and ‘paw-print free’ clothes are just a distant memory; for us and visitors. I remember those days fondly. Blondie can’t understand it “Who doesn’t love dog slobber and hairy clothes and the rotten stale breath of a hound?” EVERYONE, except her! Just had a thought, we haven’t had any actual post for days….
The raised beds have been raised even higher; hopefully to deter the wildlife from extracting anything and everything in any shade of green, they’re not fussy. If we’re lucky, we’ll have garlic, onions, leeks, asparagus to name but a few. And if they’re lucky, they will! They’re not supposed to like garlic and onions so they must eat it to wind us up…it works. We did a costing last year on our success rate; buying seeds, compost, containers, and apart from tomatoes which they couldn’t get to, and the unquantifiable cost of blood, sweat, toil and tears we fed the local wildlife with the finest fayre at £2billion x the cost of commercial animal food. It’s no wonder they keep coming back. Apparently, it takes 3 years to harvest the first crop of Asparagus. Everything crossed there’s a happy ending to that story.
Bathroom fixer still fixing but nearing completion. If only he was a mind reader and he’d managed to extract the information we had in our heads but hadn’t communicated to his. That would have prevented the backwards steps involved in moving sink and rearranging the plan that was coming together nicely. Communication really is the key…wise words indeed. The GO is happy though, he gets to do his jumpy uppy thing for a few more days yet and unlike the postie, the bathroom fixer loves him, kind of, in smallish doses when he’s not trying to use a power tool on super speed outside and none of us are even aware so haven’t even tried to save him or his tool ; was almost another “Ouch”!
Over at No. 15, it’s 36 weeks and counting… and those Bexley Troubadours have done it again. Coming out in force to do a makeover on the bedroom of the Wise One and the Mum to Be. What a feat in a day, they’re amazing. Mum to Be is going to be in her element in that cosy snug; cosy being the favourite word and verb for our MtB. There’ll be a fur blanket on that bed by now and some coordinating shlompy pj’s doubling up as a working from home wardrobe I’m sure.
The Cheeky Girls have been baking again, this time bread and it was edible they all confirmed. In fact Curly Sue declared she was never going to eat shop bought bread again. Must have been good!
The eldest Grand sprog is a true conscientious scholar and gets her school work over and done before most kids have made their beds. Not so, Curly Sue. She likes to save hers for later, much later. She’ll be the teenager who does her homework on the bus on the way to school, the day after it was due in.
The smallest princess is going it alone. Into her very own coach and horses for the first time. Hope she leaves room for mum or dad, or both…I think they’re hoping the influence of Peppa Pig will be enough to guarantee success, I’m not so sure. I think it might be a lively night over at Bramley Cottage. Good luck guys and gals.
Saying goodbye to an elderly relative is always painful but the coming together of family to do it together is the blessing that everyone needs and memories shared can always raise a smile, even when followed by a tear or two. They said goodbye in their way and took their memories, some of them fairly colourful, back home with them… Another new beginning.
The snow that was promised came and went fairly abruptly. The flakes were huge and beautiful but also wet so no time for creative building of any form – this time anyway. Even the GO looked disappointed. He thought he was about to embark on a totally new diet regime.
The Popsicle and the Dodger (“Nuthin” ) are off to preschool together tomorrow . Watch out everyone, there’s a hurricane coming. If mum could turn herself into a fly, she’d be there too, recording the memories for posterity. But hey, I’m sure she’ll think of something to while away that 3 hours she’ll get without hearing “Mum”, “Mum”, “Mum”, MUM”, “MUM”… I’m thinking tea and TV. TV without Disney, or noise, or mess, or snack requests. Holly and Phil, tea and toast, It’s what most mums need. Then a second cup of tea but this time with cake….obviously followed by guilt.
Have you seen my Crocs? 