Good service

The gutter on the back of the house has been overflowing for a while, and the jokers who put cards in the mailbox advertising such services didn’t trouble themselves to reply to messages.  We took to the internet to look for someone to sort it, and give the sitooterie roof a wash while they were at it.  The outfit we chose responded clearly and helpfully, and sent a polite young man with an unpronounceable name this afternoon.  It has been a showery day, so (a) he had a lousy job, and (b) we could see at once that he’d done a good one.  Since we can do less and less for ourselves as the clock ticks on, it’s good to know that we can GSI that we can trust.  Not cheap in this instance, but value for money.  Company name on application.

Martyn has been labouring mightily at taming a new computer, and at a bit of spring cleaning in the kitchen.  We’ve both been peeling and chopping apples, so the old hands are complaining a bit.  Plenty more to do in that department: I think we have enough unblemished fruit to store for a while, but we have at least two batches of windfalls to peel and chop.  Meanwhile, the tomatoes are yielding quite well, but we shall definitely look for Sweet Olive seed next year!

Mellow fruitfulness

Martyn harvested the Bramley seedling apple tree this morning.  We have already had a lot of fruit, frozen several batches of purée and given some kilos away to friends and neighbours.  Best crop ever, but unfortunately the wee beasties agree.  We might be able to store some of the undamaged fruit, but I suspect we’re going to be busy peeling, slicing and stewing.  We shall need more containers, which the generous, philanthropic and altruistic Mr Bezos will deliver tomorrow.

In the decorative department, I potted up some dozens of pansy plug plants yesterday, so must remember to keep them watered.  A lot of the plants in the containers are getting past their best, though the fuchsias in the hanging baskets are doing pretty well.  

My geranium cuttings have been disappointing this year, so it’ll be time for new stock in the spring, if I’m spared.

While Martyn was picking apples, I was down at the local repair café, getting a pair of secateurs overhauled.  I’ve wittered on plenty in the past about this wonderful institution, and make no apology for returning to the subject.  Even if you only want to drop in for a cup of tea, it’s a great place to catch up with friends old and new.  One surprise was to meet the organiser of our u3a German conversation group, who had brought in a VHS recorder for repair.  Why, one asks?  Surely this is a case of Auntie’s good gramophone?  

But make no mistake: the volunteers who offer clock and bike repairs, tool sharpening and so much else are without exception likeable and friendly people.

Likewise our u3a friends.  Our computer group normally meets at a tennis club in town, but since the key holder couldn’t come, and the rain excluded tennis, the clubhouse remained stubbornly shut.  Organiser Eryll gamely invited us all to her place, where we had a pretty good conversation, despite the awful congestion of Disgustedville traffic.

Well, what to make of this week’s news?  I think it’s best I leave it to the Rory & Alistair podcast, The Rest is Politics.  But I’ll just say it’s a great shame that Angela Rayner has dropped such a resounding bollock.  She is - was - one of the best front bench advocates for HM Government, and her rise to high office from very difficult origins is a tribute to her energy and commitment.  I hope she’ll be back.

Unerwünschte Arzneimittelwirkungen

Aka side effects in a more economical language (though Nebenwirkungen is a slightly easier version available to those of the Teutonic persuasion).  Two days after the RSV vaccination I started a feverish cold, and five days on I’m still coughing and sneezing, and having trouble sleeping thanks to stuffed up airways.  I should grateful for the protection it’ll give me: on googling side effects I found that quite a few had similar experiences, but one comment from a no doubt US American contributor reported reluctance to pay the $500 the shot would cost!  I don’t usually have problems with jabs, though I do recall a similar reaction to a flu jab some years ago, and a smallpox vaccination when I was in my teens laid me low for a few days.  (I was due to go to Orléans that summer, and since there had been an outbreak in Wales, France wouldn’t let anyone in without a vaccination certificate.)

Well, I seem to on the mend: I did some overdue dead-heading and hacking back yesterday, and filled a bucket to fill up the council’s garden waste bin.  One believes in getting one’s money’s worth.  A propos garden, I think we may need to set aside a day for apple stewing.  The Bramley is groaning with fruit, and we don’t want to leave them to the beasties.  I think we might need the preserving pan!

One word from me…

…and the garden does what it bloody well likes.  Annie next door had a verbena bonariensis or two in her front garden last year.  This year our front garden looks like this:

Decorative, sure, and it might be suppressing other weeds like oxalis.  I guess the roots must have penetrated the membrane under the slate chippings.  I suspect we’ve got it for good now.  I’ve scattered some eschscholzia seeds on the same area, so they can slug it out next year.  I’ll mix it up next year with seed from the poppies that arrived unbidden, probably from Lisa, our neighbour on the other side.

You’ll have tolerated patiently my chunterings about the sweet olive tomatoes.  Well, they are ripening now and are quite delicious.  What they aren’t is Sweet Olive!  They ripen to a dark chocolate brown, so I guess they’re Chocolate Cherry.  So apologies to those I’ve given cuttings thereof: but I’m sure you’ll enjoy them nevertheless.

I’ve had a prompt or two over the last couple of weeks to book an RSV jab.  This is a common respiratory virus which is possibly a problem for people my age, since it can develop into the Old Man’s Friend (pneumonia).  I rang the local practice yesterday, and they offered me an appointment that same afternoon.  Let’s not slag off the NHS, eh?  I have a slightly sore arm today, and feel pretty wabbit, as nurse Helen predicted.  

But the washing is drying on the line, and the dead-heading and grass cutting can wait for a cooler, less humid day.

Modern times

As we drove up yesterday to Kate and John’s, we were struck by how much has changed in SE London and the East End.  There are vast towers of posh flats everywhere, yet many of the shop fronts along the A13 are shuttered and covered in graffiti.  Driving etiquette seems to be a thing of the past, and lots of young men on bikes and in hot hatches weave in and out of traffic as though they think themselves immortal.  One is glad to be elderly and comfortably installed in genteel Disgustedville.  And driving a bright red car the arbitrary manoeuvres of which at least say ‘watch out!’.

Meanwhile, as befits one’s advancing years and limited ambition, the laundry’s done, and the grass is cut.  And it has been good to stay at home, charge the car and enjoy an afternoon nap.

Auld acquaintance

A delightful lunch today with Kate and John at their home in Islington.  John had barbecued a delicious rack of lamb and corn on the cob, and Kate had done Delia Smith roast vegetables and a summer pudding.  They were on fine form, and we had a good catch-up round the table after aperitifs in the garden.  I first met them in Lagrasse a few years before I retired: they still have a house there, and jet off south several time a year.

Since I wanted to take them some plants, we took a deep breath and drove up.  I hadn’t driven in London for about ten years, and today’s experience reminded me why that is!  The 20 mph speed limit tames matters somewhat, but the traffic is as bad as ever, and drivers are less courteous than hereabouts.  Giving way to other drivers rarely gets an acknowledgment, so not a few earned a Trumpington salute.  We used the new Silvertown Tunnel in both directions: it is longer and more sinuous than the Blackwall, but does the job as well or better.  The M25 was OK on the way up, but when we tried to join it from the A2 on the way home we found it blocked solid.  We headed back up the A2 and knitted an alternative route home.  On balance, it was easier than travelling by train and bus: and a damn’ sight cheaper, tunnel tolls and congestion charge notwithstanding.  But I won’t be repeating the experience soon: it’s a bit tiring.

Back here in the garden, the rain has brought a lot of stuff on, notably the grass, which I’ll tackle tomorrow (it says here on the wall…).  Ben did a good job weeding the front last time he was here, but we agreed that he’d leave the self-sown verbena bonariensis, which is, I grant you, quite pretty, even though it’s growing in practically nothing.  We’ve been cropping spuds, but the yield is poor.  The tomatoes are being a bit slow to ripen.  Maybe I’ll have to bite the bullet and get produce from the shops.

Another funeral

We sent off our neighbour Geoff today.  He was diagnosed with acute leukaemia around the same time I was diagnosed with a different variety of the crab, so we occasionally swapped oncology war stories.  We learned at the funeral today that he had been a project manager on the Rio-Niteroi bridge, and that he was a competent pianist.  What a lot of stories and music we could have shared.

A few days earlier, I joined a ‘walk and talk’ session on the nearby common, organised by the local u3a, guided by friendly and knowledgeable Commons Rangers Gemma and Dan.  Very informative and interesting, and another chance to meet nice people with similar interests.  It did, however, take me to the limit of my endurance: a mere 3000 + a few paces, since the day was warm and humid.  Must build up.

Sonst: we had a nice Sunday with Martyn’s sister Sandra.  A simple lunch: a chicken casserole alongside charlottes from the garden, followed by an apple crumble, using apples from our tree.  It shouldn’t be too long before we’re cropping tomatoes, and we have lots of potatoes to lift.  Let’s hope for some good cropping conditions.