We hate DIY. But we still baulk at the idea of GSI (Getting Someone In) just to put up a new light fitting. We fitted a circular fluorescent light in the kitchen soon after we moved here, replacing a rather fantouche swivelling multiple spotlight thing that used five 100-watt reflector bulbs - and burned them out at a mighty rate of knots. They were uncomfortably hot as well when one's unencumbered scalp was anywhere near them. When we replaced the halogen bulbs with fluorescent 'equivalents', we were virtually left groping in the dark round the kitchen, so feeble were they. One of our regular freecycle takers took it off our hands. Well, the circular fluorescent was scarcely better, so when the tube failed, we decided to bite the bullet and put in a good old-fashioned twin strip light. Much cursing and aching arms later, it is not unadjacent to the ceiling, and by some miracle, it covers the old holes - just. But the quality is rather depressing: the steel is so thin that any self-respecting baked bean would turn its nose up at it. And the plastic diffuser cracks as soon as you look at it. But it's up, and it works, and it will give as much light as the original fitting for a seventh of the power.
Dentist visit on Wednesday: no excitements, fortunately. He reduced my net worth in some degree by shaving a bit off a gold crown that had developed an edge.
Lots of heavy rain this week, so the garden is looking healthy if a bit battered. Roses are coming into bloom, as are the little helianthemums. The oriental poppies have taken a battering from the rain, and quite a lot of iris sibirica spikes were blown down. The ill wind made for some components of a little posy to take with us on Friday's dinner date, however: a very enjoyable evening with Sandra and Michael. Today we've planted nicotiana and the few rudbeckia we've raised from seed, and hauled out a few miles of brambles.
As I type, I'm being harangued by a wren and a chiff-chaff. We see the wren scurrying round the garden now and then, but I can never pinpoint the chiff-chaff while it's singing, other than by sound. I occasionally see it flitting away to its next song post. We're providing food for blackbird and blue tit chicks: we have one family of the latter in the nesting box over the kitchen door, and the parents are busy flitting back and forth to the feeders. There's another family in the conifer at the front (guess we'd better put up another nest box when we finally get the tree cut down), and we think there's another lot in the hedge at the back. Of the ducks, no sign today, but I dare say they'll show up when they're hungry.
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