Oh, My Days!

I always try to buy ‘Made in Britain’ stuff if I can. I am as much a champion of home-grown goods as I can possibly be in this crazy world where buying tat from abroad often works out cheaper than buying from one’s own country. Like importing New Zealand lamb when we grow enough of our own lambs. Never did understand that one.  Anyway, where I am going with this started a month or so ago when Shropshire Council, in all its wisdom, decided to start charging for the emptying of our green waste bin. The green waste bin is emptied once a fortnight and I usually fill it well with stuff from the garden plus all our food waste which is minimal anyway because I am very good about NOT wasting food. We have the four compost bays in the garden, of course, plus the dalek bin which manage a lot of our garden waste but it’s good to get rid of stuff in the green waste bin which might take a bit longer to break down. Like the prunings from Wild Edric, for example. And pernicious weeds. This servic...

 In the last eight days, Nell the Poo has received three baths. This is three baths too many for my liking. The first bath was because she evaded me on a long walk and succeeded in rolling in a massive pile of fox poo. All over her chest it was, and up either side of her neck. She looked positively triumphant as she emerged from the hedge, and thought I’d like to share in her joy by trying to jump up me. Bleaurgh…no way, José. We returned to the car with me stretching the lead as far as it would go and drove home with all the car windows open. I donned some sturdy rubber gloves before bathing her and gave the bath a good bleach scrub down afterwards. Absolutely revolting.🤢 🤮 On Thursday, she got bowled into the canal by an over-enthusiastic springer spaniel. The spaniel’s owner said, ‘Do you want me to get her out for you?’ but it was too late - I was already on my hands and knees in the mud and wet grass, dangling over the side of the canal to haul a struggling Nell up the steep...

  Yesterday, I spent a lovely day on a training course run by the Oral History Society who are part of the British Library. This came about as a result of me responding to a ‘Volunteers Wanted’ request from our village heritage group who have received funding in order to create an oral history project about the village which will be an extension of the work the group have already done. Adderley Heritage, for that is the name of the group, has spent a lot of time creating an archive of historical documents, developing a website and installing a heritage trail around the village, with information boards placed at strategic sites of historical importance. The village can trace its history back to 1065. That’s a LOT of history!  Anyway, off I went to the training day, not knowing quite what to expect other than the usual bribery of tea, cake and lunch. And I have to say it was a thoroughly fascinating experience. The only hiccup occurred because the training location couldn’t be o...

  A few days ago, Nell and I saw these cows on the far side of the canal. It’s a vertiginous bank, and how they got down there, let alone how they get back up is quite beyond me. Can cows channel their inner goat when they need to? Who knows? It’s a wonder of the Universe. Anyway, Nell barked at the cows, I did not because I was taught that shouting in a public space was the habit of a common fish-wife, and the cows regarded us with mild interest and much serenity and probably thought, ‘Stupid dog.’  Yesterday, the sun was out, the skies were blue, the wind was non-existent and as all gardeners know at this time of year, it was the best of days to get outside and do a pre-Winter tidy up. What I REALLY wanted to do was stay inside, read, knit and watch The Repair Shop on catch-up TV BUT the Gnome of Gritty Determination was immediately in my ear (not literally - that would be very uncomfortable. I can’t even cope with ear plugs let alone a whole gnome) telling me to ‘Go out NOW...