Oh, My Days!

 Since installing the pergola last year, and creating what we now call ‘The Mediterranean Corner’, the grape vine has put on some glorious growth. Many bunches of grapes are forming and filling out nicely, and I think this is because His Lordship Malarkey has been dutifully training the vines across their support network, wobbling around up his ladder with pieces of wire and twine, and they’ve enjoyed the extra space. The grape vine is at the back of the pergola against the shed. The hops are climbing up the front - one either side -and have just started to make their flowers. The fig tree is in the middle and finally behaving itself. It’s been an petulant fig tree, flolloping all over the place and threatening to lose its leaves, but I think now it is resigned to its fate and has achieved a goodly height of an imperial foot, plus healthy and abundant leaf growth. Probably no figs until next year but I am prepared to forgive it, given it hasn’t died on me.  I can see a wasp sitting on

 Apparently it’s a ‘thing’ that as one grows older, one loses a bit of height. I’m having none of that. I do a lot of stretching in my daily routine to prevent shrinkage - keep the old spine upright and flexible, you know?  However, the illusion of feeling shorter isn’t helped AT ALL when your granddaughters rock up for a holiday and the eldest can look you in the eye without standing on a chair and it turns out that, compared with my 5’ 6”, she is only an inch behind at 5’ 5”. How on Earth did THAT happen?? I fully expect that the next time we meet, she’ll be looking down on me. Literally.  We started the holiday with a trip to the cinema to see ‘The Rise of Gru’, the latest in the ‘Despicable Me’ franchise. We do like a minion or two. The plot was wholly implausible, of course, but entertaining enough if somewhat lacking in the finesse of the previous films. We then had lunch in the Harvester which is next to the cinema, and I am pleased to say that they have upped their game conside

 On Tuesday, Heather and Ollie loaded up a large Luton van (with tail lift) with the contents of their house. Yesterday, Ollie drove the van and Heather followed on in her car (let’s sing - “Off went the van with my old man in it. I followed on with my old cock linnet!” I don’t know if Heather sang ‘My Old Man Said Follow The Van’ but I like to think she did!) and they drove 250 miles to a storage facility near Shrewsbury and unloaded the van’s contents into it. They then took the van to my place of work to park it up overnight (the van was too wide to park on the Damson Cottage drive) and arrived, thoroughly exhausted, chez nous in Heather’s car at 6 p.m.  We fed and watered them. Harris was thrilled to see them. Much cat smooching occurred. They slept the sleep of the dead, and left this morning at 8 a.m to return the van to the lease hire company in Kent. They have a final tip run to do and a final clean of the house they are vacating, although it is already pristine. They will then

 The last few days haven’t been the best. In fact, they’ve been emotionally turbulent. If I didn’t know better, I would say that Mercury has been retrograde, but it hasn’t. It’s just been a case of riding through the shite knowing that this too shall pass and all will be well. Firstly, my poor, darling husband Andy was on the receiving end of what can only be described as a vitriolic, unprovoked and vile verbal and physical assault by two of his so-called family members, and all this over the settlement of his late father’s estate. I was appalled and disgusted by what happened. I don’t want to go into details because the language used and accusations levelled at Andy were inexcusable, unforgivable and riddled with blatant lies. Anyone who knows Andy will say he is the kindest, funniest, nicest, most decent and intelligent man they’ve met, a man who doesn’t have a nasty bone in his body. Anyway, we are having a gentle weekend, working through the hurt and bewilderment, with me trying to

The petunias I sowed from the cheapo multi-variety packet of seeds I got from Aldi for 99p, it turns out, are pink… …and the dahlias, from the same job lot packet, are yellow… So that’s that little mystery solved. The cornflowers, ditto same packet, are pale lilac pink, but they are at the other end of the garden and I cannot be arsed to walk up to get a photo, not in this heat. Plus, if Edith and Sidney see me, they will perform berserk running around their empire because they will think I’ve come up with something for them to eat, which I haven’t, but then I’ll feel guilty and have to go foraging for them, for clover and dandelion leaves and other rabbitty shizzle. And that’s not on my evening agenda. (In case you think I am being harsh on Edith and Sidney, I am not. I’ve foraged for them three times today. They don’t go without, my bunnies.) I wasn’t at work today, which meant I got to experience Day One of The Heatwave in the comfort of my own home, instead of at work where I would

 I don’t know if ‘pasta la vista’ actually means anything, but I’ve been fiddling around writing nonsense poetry today, and jumbled up wormery is what happens as a result. And it fits in nicely with one of the topics in today’s blog, more of which later.  Anyway, not only have I been writing, I have been reading about working as an independent author, which seems the sensible way to go these days if you want to publish your own work. Ebooks and audio books are two avenues I haven’t considered until now, having always thought about traditional ‘buy in a book shop and hold in your hands’ books. But the world of publishing is changing apace and if one wants to write and publish, one has to roll with the times. One has to be ‘indie’ which I rather like the sound of. Besides, it’s all about learning new skills, keeping the brain interested and active, meeting new challenges that keep you feeling young, right? Of course it is! I’m rather taken with the idea of narrating my own audio books. I

 I was being a bit spendthrift yesterday, which is unusual for me as I am often convinced that financial destitution is just around the corner, a thought that fills me with dread. In reality, this couldn’t be further from the truth, and I know I’m being irrational about all things fiscal, but old habits die hard. It was just the way I was brought up.  Anyway, yesterday I was in ‘throw caution to the wind’ mode so I purchased: 1) a parasol for our new patio dining set. Between the hours of 11 a.m and 5 p.m the patio is in full sun and if we want to eat lunch out there, it’s a bit of a sweaty head and squinty-eyed affair. Parasol was purchased, then, and the old cast iron base from our last parasol was dug out of the woodshed to sit it in  2) a couple of sacks of bread-making flour. Aldi and Lidl appear to have stopped stocking bread flour. I’ve not been able to find any for a good three months now. And after the Morrison-gate episode from last week I shan’t be going THERE to buy any. I’

 Okay, I shall mention the ‘R’ word. But quietly. You see, two days ago, when I was standing at the kitchen sink, enjoying watching the birds at the feeding station, my eye was caught by a….sssshhhhh…R.A.T….that was availing itself of the bits of seeds and peanuts dropped by the birds.  Well, we are surrounded by fields, as you know, and the fields are full of wildlife - hares, pheasants, ducks, voles, moles, meeces, weasels, toads, foxes, frogs….and, of course, R.A.T.S. It’s part of countryside living. But when the R.A.T later returned with three smaller R.A.T.S, her babies I am guessing, I thought, this is a problem that needs dealing with because what one definitely does NOT want is R.A.T.S close to one’s house and cars because they are destructive and opportunistic little beggars. But I can’t blame the R.A.T.S for foraging beneath the bird feeders for easy food.  My options then, for dealing with this issue, were: 1) poison - but I did not want to kill the rats, nor kill other anim

 Goodness me, but everyone I met when I was out and about yesterday had a proper grump on. I didn’t. I was a cheerfulness and light. I had a plan for the day which mostly involved writing and watching films, but I had errands to run first, so was up with the lark and out with the wise worm trying to avoid the early bird. Firstly to Morrison’s. I rarely shop there now, but needed a couple of bits I can’t get in Aldi, and I thought I’d couple the trip with a visit to the petrol station to fill up the little red car.  Arrived just after 8 a.m, grabbed a trolley and walked into an almost deserted shop. From nowhere, a Morrison’s employee carrying a box flung herself in my pathway. I slammed on the brakes of my trolley to avoid collision.  ‘Oooh, I’m sorry!’ I said, because I am polite and did the British thing of taking immediate and full responsibility even though it was a six of one and half a dozen of the other situation. Do you know what she did, this Morrison’s employee carrying a box

 Excuse all the photos today, but it’s such lovely weather I just had to take the iPad outside and snap a few of the flowers that are blossoming in the newly revamped courtyard. Apart from the roses, they are all flowers wot I ‘ave growed meself from seeds, and I am, as they say dahn sarf ‘well chuffed’ with the resulting blooms - calendula, geranium, French marigolds, sweet peas, cosmos, poppies, sunflowers and nasturtiums. Still more to bloom - dahlias, petunias, evening primrose, poached egg plants, nigella, lobelia - which I’m looking forward to sitting amongst enormously. I set a gardening goal for myself this year to have more flowers in the garden, and that’s exactly what I’ve done!  It’s a bit windy out so the photos aren’t as studied as I wanted them to be. Literally, quick snap and fingers crossed hoping I caught the blooms mid-waft.  I’ve also made a decision regarding my writing career. Having accepted the reality that it is unlikely I shall ever be the renowned and financi

For about a couple of weeks now, a baby robin has been making very bold advances at my workplace, darting around the outdoors kitchen area and fixing those who cross its path with a gimlet eye that says, ‘Feed me, you inadequate human, or I shall seek you out in dark corners and haunt you. I shall become your worst living nightmare…mwahahahahaha!’  This isn’t the ACTUAL baby robin, but it’s a remarkable likeness in colour, size and speckledness… So, because I am a sucker for all birdie creatures, except for a) the Idiot Bantams who are STILL alive and b) our resident sparrowhawk who persists in attempting murder most horrid on the small birdies who dine Chez Damson Cottage, I’ve taken to crushing up peanuts and tempting the baby robin into my calming aura, for I am determined to become one of those people who post photos of themselves on Instagram with a robin perched on their finger along with the caption ‘Me and My Robin Friend.’ I have to say this baby robin hasn’t taken much tempti

  I’ve worked out what it is I don’t like about being called ‘Denise.’ It’s because it sounds too much like ‘disease.’ In secondary school, I remember (now I’ve trawled through the memories) that some vile girls of little brain and no kindness used to call me that. I have no idea why because at school I used to keep myself to myself. I did nothing to deserve their bullying other than being near the top of the class whilst they skulked at the bottom. I can even remember their names - Julie Holland and Elizabeth Woods-Scawen. Nasty pieces of work. ‘Denise’ is the feminine form of ‘Denis/Dennis.’ I don’t like the patriarchal twist to that, being the feminine form of something masculine. The meaning assigned to the name is ‘devoted to Bacchus’ who is the Roman god of wine, the equivalent of the Greek god Dionysus. Couldn’t be more inappropriate, given I don’t drink alcohol, and on the occasion I did try a sip of wine it tasted like vinegar, and if I’m going to have vinegar I might as well

 The new patio dining set has arrived. Here is it, all bright and shiny… I shall find some lovely cushions to go on the seats, which, I am pleased to report, are most comfortable. Needless to say that immediately one has one’s outdoors dining arrangements sorted, the weather has other ideas and decides to rain and blow wind everywhere. A lot. Which is fine because the water butts need filling and it is easier to let the rain water the garden than for me having to faff around with hose pipe and watering cans. I can do without the wind, though.  In other news, today is the day that all five baby swallows have ventured outside into the big wide skies! They’ve been perching outside their nest but still inside the laundry for about three days but this morning - whoosh! Off they went! They hung around the garden for a while, perching here and there whilst their parents encouraged them to experiment with flying, and now they have gone off to explore further afield. I remember the babies doing