Sad news

We learned yesterday that Chris Burnford has left us, aged 92.  Today would have been his 93rd birthday.  He was the widower of my cousin Gill Routley.  Her father Frank was boarded out at birth, since my grandparents, both teachers and then unmarried, were not in a position to give him what we would regard as a normal family life.  It was only through Gill’s and cousin Philippa’s genealogical research that we learned of the relationship.  We sometimes bemoan the times we live in, but in many ways we’re better off now. Anyway, we remember Chris fondly as the father of four fine first cousins once removed, and of course for his impish sense of humour.

C’mon, spring!

We’re still getting hard frosts these mornings, but there are plenty of signs of spring in the weedpatch.  Some snowdrops in flower, daffodils budding up and tulips poking through.  Today I’ve finally got round to chopping down/pulling up the lobelias, and planted up some rather empty pots with primulas - £4.99 for ten at Fortnums, so I’ll probably pick some more next time I’m there. 

Though the sun is now behind the clouds, the mid afternoon electricity consumption is being supplied from the solar panels and the battery, which the sun charged up earlier in the day.  Staying on matters electrical, we charged the car twice in January - about the equivalent of a full tank - for an estimated £13.99, somewhere between a fifth and a quarter of the price of a tank of diesel.  Of course, the capital cost of the new cars and the solar installations will never be paid off by savings on motor fuel, but one nevertheless feels modestly virtuous.  (And they’re so much nicer to drive!)

We’ve been reasonably sociable of late.  Sister-in-law Sandra came to lunch on Saturday, and we plied her with Wiener Schnitzel with pasta and ratatouille.  Next day we visited a former colleague of Martyn’s for lunch: roast lamb (which I got roped in to carve) and a vast array of vegetables.  

Surprisingly, my weight was down a bit when I got on the scales this morning, but I’m still short even of my interim target.  I’m a little surprised that my dry January didn’t contribute more weight loss, but I don’t suppose Nozeco and the like are hugely less calorific than wine!  

We had a visit yesterday from BT to do the preparatory work for the cut-over to digital telephone service.  The footpath and the front garden will have to be dug up to get the fibre optic cable to the house, with a long dotted line of spray paint presaging the chaos to come.  But the modem is installed, the terminal block is on the wall outside and the new router has arrived, ready to be hooked up.  Stand by for shrieks of anguish as we try to get everything communicating with the new stuff.  We were at the u3a computers group this morning, and were somewhat humbled by the skills and savviness of people substantially older than us.  I dare say we’ll have more problems than usual to bring to the group next month…

As for the world of politics, each day brings another example of the orange one behaving like a mediaeval emperor, ignoring the legal and constitutional framework of his country, and threatening a trade war that will upset the world economy.  His Majesty’s Government seems paralysed in this context, so I just hope that things are happening in the background.  I can’t imagine that the Noble Lord ambassador designate will cut much ice with N°47, but - assuming that his credentials are accepted - he will perhaps be Macchiavellian enough to have some influence, on or beneath the surface.  As ever, I’m grateful to be old and childless.

More of the same

 After yet another stormy night, I came down to find the fence between us and Annie leaning over at 45°.  The fencing contractor has a contract to fix it, but have scheduled it for a month hence.  They sent someone round last week to do a temporary lash-up.  Temporary’s the word: last night’s little zephyr pretty much finished off the steel sockets - the fence has to be fixed for part of its run on top of a low brick wall.  A phone call to the friendly installation manager led to a visit from two fitters, including the chap who did last week’s job.  I got them to take the offending panels out altogether and dispose of them, together with the remnants of the fence on the other side of the garden.  So we’re even more open than usual, but safe and disencumbered, if that’s a word.

The wind dropped during the course of the day, so I was able to get out and do violence to some rather overgrown potentillas, the apple tree and the clematis montana, and whatever else got in the way of my destructive frenzy.  The garden is dreich but promising: lots of bulbs are pushing through the surface, and most of the shrubs are looking encouraging: the Fuji cherry and the magnolia stellata in particular.  Fresh air and garden work are good for the Weltanschauung at this dismal time of year.

That time of year again

I’m always a bit reluctant to start on the marmalade, since I know the hands are going to hurt from scraping the pith out of the skins!  But after staring at the oranges on the work top for a few days, I got cracking yesterday.  I use plenty of technology; an electric citrus juicer and the magimix for slicing the skins - once through the coarse disk then once through the fine one.  But I still use mother’s preserving pan: it might even be Granny Smith’s.  I need to find someone who can replace the rivets that hold the handle to the pan, since two have come off.  Anyway, a kilo and a half of fruit plus a couple of lemons have made eight and a bit jars.  I’ve only done one lot this year: we’ve been using less lately, and I found half a dozen jars in stock.  Judging by the colour, two jars are from the year before last.  I’ve never been much good at managing the pantry.  Anyway, this year’s lot has set nicely and apart from the part-filled baby jar with the last drops, it’s all tucked away in the cupboard.

Quite a lot of traffic this morning at the feeders on the apple tree: a robin, a wren, great and blue tits and a nuthatch.  Very pleased to see the nuthatch: it’s years since we’ve seen one in the garden.  The great tits were pecking away at the frosty tree branches, perhaps to get some water.  I’ve put out a pan of water for them, and break the ice from time to time.  Roll on spring.

Is it me?

I asked the chemist last weekend for a repeat of my batch medications A and B.  Got an email back saying ‘batch expired: contact GP’.  Did so, told chemist so, and got reply saying ‘OK: I’ll watch out for it’.  Went to collect yesterday, and on opening the packet today, found meds C and D.  By which time I’d just ordered fresh supplies of C and D.   Called in on chemist: ‘Yes, the batch for A and B has been renewed, but you need to order it’, and it won’t be ready till Thursday.  The last time I was there to collect medication E, they had two prescriptions of it awaiting collection.  Given that I’ve also been having trouble with other prescribed supplies, it seems there’s a mix of non-dispensing, wrong dispensing and phantom dispensing going on.  Either that or I’ve finally lost my marbles.  Discuss.