I almost wrote Good Morning but it isn’t, it’s way past midday. I’ve been busy beeing this morning, you know, doing all the small things that build up and amount to quite a lot of time being needed to accomplish them.
Now that the scan results are in I figured I may as well continue with the migraine medication so that was my first port of call – the chemist. I thought it would be a quick in and out but no. I was herded into a tiny box of a room and informed that the pharmacist was going to have a chat with me about my medication and how I’m taking it etc. Apparently they like to do this every year. Weird that because I’ve been going there for twenty-three years and it’s the first time they have mentioned it. Probably a bit of a quiet day. I did notice that there wasn’t anyone else in at the time.
From there I popped into my chiropractor to drop off some ‘spare’ veg. Archna is also a ‘veggie’ and so she was the first (and only) choice. I’m a bit picky who I give my surplus to – if you catch my drift? We had a catch-up on my condition and then I tootled off to good old Morrison’s to get a few bits for the grand-kiddies tomorrow. They are both coming over again – but Richard will be at work this time so I won’t be posting tomorrow! I would, but I might find it difficult typing in a straight jacket with Peppa Pig playing on DVD for the thirtieth time!
I’m feeling quite chuffed with myself actually because I seem to be keeping on track and on target. Yesterday I said I was going to spend some time in the garden, pruning back and generally destroying things and that is what I did. Sometimes, and I may as well own up to it, I tell you that I’m going to move mountains or bake enough cakes for a third world country and then I just happen to glimpse a ‘film on four’ and I’m buggered. But yesterday I did exactly what I said I was going to do and it was wonderful. Life cannot get any better than, an August afternoon, standing beneath buddlia bushes filled with butterflies and bees. It just can’t.
The chucks thought it was great. They had almost three hours out in the garden and had time to do everything they wanted to do, including having a jolly long dust bath. My white chuck, Little, is now my beige chuck, Little, but not to worry. You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs. Probably not a very suitable simile but you get the point? Grace, the maran, not my granddaughter, has a cold and is sneezing. Bloody typical. I’ve only had the creatures for two seconds and one is already ailing. Either that or she has an allergy to straw! I’ve been told to leave her alone and let her build up her immunity. I get rollocked for keeping them too clean and picking up pooh every day.
I’m afraid the pear tree didn’t make it. It was diseased and if it thought it could take up a valuable place in the garden by producing two scabby pears a year it was sadly mistaken. I removed it and also a gooseberry bush that has never produced a single gooseberry, even though its two friends produce enough fruit to weigh down the branches to the soil. I am a ruthless and heartless pruner. Shape up or ship out.
Other than the scabby pear tree and the virginal gooseberry bush the rest of the garden produce has done exceptionally well. Just for fun I bought a melon plant and stuck it in a grow-bag in the greenhouse and it has tiny melons forming. They will be too late and won’t come to anything but it was fun trying. I also tried pumpkins and squash for the first time and they have babies too.
Last year we made cider from the apples and it is now ready for drinking. Richard has tried it and pulled a face. I think it may be a tad like ‘scrumpy.’ But what’s wrong with that? I’m thinking of selling it at the door, along with the glut of cabbages, courgettes, apples, etc, etc. Don’t tell anyone because I’m sure you need a licence ha ha. Oh, and I could also sell chuck eggs because all three are laying like crazy. Hey, I could be a millionaire by this time next year! Or maybe I’ll leave the alcoholic cider at home and rent a market stall? And I can make cakes and stuff. And I can bag-up the compost and sell that. Ha! See, I don’t need to sell books. I’m an entrepreneur. I’ll sell … stuff. I’ll have to think about what I can sell through the winter months. Got it! I’ll sell books through the winter months!
Actually, I don’t think I’ll do any of the above because if I did I wouldn’t be able to catch the ‘film on four’ when the mood takes me. Far better to keep things as they are …Richard earning the pennies and me playing the hard done to, stay at home partner who scrubs and cleans and irons all day. As if! The iron is unusable …it has rust coming through the steam holes where the water was left in it back in 1994!
Take care my lovelies x