Grey

The colour of January, for the most part, is rather dispiriting.  Still, en route for various nefarious pursuits, one sees quite a lot of daffodils in flower, and the mauve crocuses in the grassy patches between the footpath and the roadway round the corner have practically gone over.  A couple of our daffodils are showing colour - so I guess it won't be long before we're cursing the straggly foliage.  Our perennial pluglets are doing quite well in the sitooterie, joined now by the seed potatoes.  I had started the latter in the garage (probably a bit too early, I suppose), and had to move them in preparation for the works last Wednesday.

We now have a new kitchen door, and a new door and window to the garage.  The garage lot were hangovers from the original build in 1980, none too solid to start with, and becoming rather decrepit at 35 years.  (A bit like some of my customers at the hobby, come to think of it....)  The kitchen door was cheap and vulgar, and was becoming difficult to lock, so was also ripe for replacement.  The front door has yet to be done: we'd been hoping it could be done on on Friday.  (I certainly was, since I'd a day at the hobby, thus had hoped to leave Martyn to deal with the crashing, banging, percussion drilling and tea making.)  The quality seems OK if unmistakeably plasticky, and certainly a bit better than that of the original offerings from Jokers Я Us Home Improvements.  

I'm hoping our new suppliers had planned to replace a bit of broken beading on the inside of the garage door on their next visit.  They certainly are so planning now, Mr Hawkeye Bishop having spotted the broken bit as he returned home on Wednesday night.  We don't yet know when the new front door will go in, but when it does, we shall have a bit more light in  the hall.  We've opted not to have a letter flap in the door: the one we have at the moment clatters like mad when the wind is in the appropriate quarter.  I ordered up a 'large' wall-fitted box on line to hang on the wall next to the door, and when it arrived, it proved to be too small to accommodate an A4 envelope.  My dear friend Vic used to say 'measure twice, cut once'.  I didn't check the measurements at all, naïvely assuming that 'large' meant large.  Back it went, and I already have my refund.  Mr Efficient Bishop ordered another one that fits the bill and collected it yesterday, so it'll be ready to go up when the new door arrives.

Thursday was mildly stressful.  We'd to go to the thanksgiving service of the husband of a retired bench colleague at lunch time, and I was struggling with a guilty conscience for not having gone to see him in hospital, where he languished for some months after falling and breaking his neck in the garden.  The service was somewhat prolonged, and taken by a somewhat high-church family friend (tall collar, back to congregation, facing the altar at certain points), but at least the hymns were within our range this time!  The local vicar topped and tailed the service, but we got a sense that he was a shade miffed at not being asked to take the whole service!

Thence to Benenden hospital for my appointment with the sawbones.  The experience was not quite as I had expected, though the reception staff were somewhat more friendly and helpful than one comes to expect in certain NHS contexts, the canteen was clean and pleasant, and the free wifie worked well enough.  (Just as well since we were early and the consultant was running late.)  The waiting room, on the other hand, was crowded and cramped, which is rather what I'd hoped to avoid, having now been paying in to Benenden for 44 years!  Mr Consultant, when I finally got to see him, was thorough and encouraging.  I 'm to continue with the exercises prescribed by the NHS physio (they seem to be helping a little), and not expect results overnight.  He didn't want to intervene at this stage, and although there is arthritic damage to the joint, he reckoned I'm some way off needing a new knee, so I'm off his list.  No further bulletins will be issued meanwhile.  Unless I feel like having a good moan at some point.

Depressingly familiar day at the hobby yesterday.  It started well when I got stuck behind a slurry tanker for some miles, and maintaining a respectful distance paid off once ar twice when dollops dropped off.  At least when I got to where we dish out the shit, someone else took charge (though all three of us were qualified to do so, as has been the pattern quite a lot recently).  I got to drive at least part of the way home in daylight.  

So far, a nice lazy Saturday so far.  A couple of loaves are in the oven, and I've done a modest amount of housework and DIY.  The latter involves attempting to glue together a chopping board that had once again shed a segment.  Goodness knows: we could afford a new one, but auld Scots habits die hard.