Worries and consolations

Surprising, what pops up in the garden some years.  This year, in addition to this blowsy poppy, we have a pure white foxglove and an onion spike, identified by our friend Carole as a Sicilian honey garlic.  Interesting, but not exactly beautiful.  The honeysuckles Celia gave us last year are putting up some good flower spikes, so I’m busting to see what colours we get.

The strong winds and heavy rain have played havoc with the tomatoes and spuds, so I’ve tried to do some running repairs.  Maybe we shall still have some crops.  In the raised veggie bed the rocket and spinach beet were taking the place over, and the beasties were getting more than we were, so they are chopped down and in the compost bin.  They may grow again from the base, they may not: we are inexperienced with the subjects.  Out the front, Lynn’s hanging basket pots are stocked with fuchsias and lobelias, and are looking promising.

We are starting to get impatient with the building job.  There’s still a lot of builders’ junk in the garage, and the skip is still on the drive.  Martyn rattled Hemen’s cage this morning, and we gather he’ll be back on Friday, together with the window (and probably the fitter thereof) and the plumber who is to flush the central heating.  Once the snagging list is all crossed off, we can get Duncan in to fit a carpet, and get the furniture in.  Once that’s done, I think we’ll draw breath for a month or so before we get estimates for the bathroom job!

I wish I had more confidence in the decision to end SARS Cov-2 restrictions two weeks hence.  With the number of cases of a new and far more infectious variant rising exponentially, it seems to me that the decision is based in political expediency rather than science-backed common sense.  But that’s what you get when you elect a shower like the current lot.  We shall deprive ourselves of trips to night clubs, footie matches and pop concerts (we’re reluctantly ready to make such sacrifices), and shall continue to get stuff delivered, shopping where inevitable only at quiet times, and masked up.  Of course, the real danger is from the un-jabbed and un-masked, so my motto is: distance makes the heart beat longer.

Saltimbocca alla Disgustedvilleana tonight, using the first leaves we’ve cropped so far from this year’s sowing of sage.  We’ve been improving our recipes with chives, dill, fennel, oregano, rocket, spinach and thyme from the garden, which makes us feel better about these depressing times.  I just hope we beat the snails to the runner beans!