Friday 15 November 2013

Lucky Me!

Bless him! P, the builder, dropped round this afternoon. He's re-jigging his garden and has some surplus fruit bushes looking for a new, happy home. He thought of me :) How lucky is that?

White currants, redcurrants, blackcurrants, gooseberries, apricots, apples, plums - the list seems endless. These are all in addition to the fig he gave me earlier this year. He wouldn't take a penny for them so I've promised him the first pot of jam - well, the second actually since the first is always a disaster for me and fit only for pouring on pancakes (yummy).

Everything is establishing itself and growing - the peas and beans are shooting so I'll have to keep an eye on them; the hollyhocks have seeded and one of the cauliflowers has taken too. I'm doing successional sowing of the veg so next month I'll plant two more of each variety and nurture them through the Winter ready for planting out, well-established, when the frosts have fled next Spring.

One thing has dawned on me: I'll really have to think about buying another freezer and re-arranging the dining room - well, it's called a dining room because now that the carpets are finally laid I'll have  a dining table (extends to ten in the hope of grandchildren), six chairs and a sideboard, bookshelves & display cabinet in there but, in reality, I may as well sell the table and chairs and install a greenhouse and a bit of hydroponics instead. My eldest left on Tuesday to marry and live in America (another story) so the likelihood of me seeing him, his lovely girl or any sprogs again seems remote.  The only things I need in the dining room at the moment are the bookshelves since family meals seem to be a thing of the past.  I'm not inclined to share Suki's food any more than he's inclined to share mine (strange cat). I once had a cat (my Jazz) who loved everything except veg and fruit but when it came to potatoes, custard, curry, baked beans, you name it - he ate it.  He died last year at the age of nineteen and I still miss him - best cat ever.  I've also known Puss-Puss, Geronimo, Mishy, Samba, Bo, Chillum and several un-named rescues who went on to be re-homed.  At a pinch you could call me CatWoman.

The central heating works! There was an over-ride switch not detailed in the how-to manual.  Unfortunately, I now can't switch it off so have turned the thermostat down to the lowest possible setting and hope that does the trick.  I bet that boiler's confused!  I'm one of those annoying people who hates being enclosed and prefers windows and doors wide open - anything else seems like a prison.  I have a halogen heater for the evenings if it's needed and it gives light as well as heat so I should be a not-too-miffed bunny when the gas bill finally comes in.

British Gas have actually been a waste of space. I've given up phoning them now because it's been six months since I first phoned with the gas meter reading yet they still insist on sending me bills only for electricity.  Lord knows what the bill will be when it finally gets here.  The last rolled-out letter I had from them was addressed to a 'Shelly xxxxx'.  I ask you, do I look like a Shelly?

I've also attempted to pay Council Tax but apparently the last owners haven't notified 'The Authoritays' so I can't because it's all subject to a data protection act (really?) .  All these cock-ups 'twixt Council and British Gas will eventually land on my doorstep and, I have to say, I'm not looking forward to it.

On another subject, who needs drugs? TV will fulfill all your needs, if you let it, and copious amounts of freely available alcohol, cannabis, ecstasy, cocaine, heroin ensure that a government has a population just where they want it: living on benefits, half-witted, semi-comatose and unable to fight back against injustice.

Here's Suki snoozing in front of my halogen heater and surrounded by my latest bout of unpacking:



By the way, have you seen these?


As usual, please click to enlarge.





I don't know if I'm talking to myself or not so here's something for me, to keep me going amidst the chaos:





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