Interesting few days

We took a trip up to London last week for an evening reception for promised benefactors of a certain Scottish institution.  They had organised a talk by their prof of international political theory on the subject of democracy in the USA.  The learned prof put a lot of emphasis on norms of political behaviour as much as on the constitutional checks and balances, neither of which seems to be thriving under the current administration.  Nice to have our own observations confirmed by someone who knows better than we.

The travelling was pretty awful.  Our train arrived late, and ran short, requiring a change at London Bridge.  I got a 25% rebate on the price of my ticket, but when Martyn undertook the same application, he was turned down, seemingly because both tickets were bought with the same card.  Hardly a  comfort when our lunch cost more than a similar meal would cost in Switzerland.  Glad to report that the journey home went as advertised.  I have to say I find London exhausting these days: one has endlessly to dodge people on the footways, and the constant noise is tiring.  But we did take a few minutes to rest in Hyde Park before the reception, and enjoyed a walk in the rose garden.

A couple of days later we had a visit from friends Jackie and Nigel for a simple lunch at home: hummus, our usual pizzas, and a fruit salad.  Most enjoyable catch-up. 

Saturday brought a visit from Paul the plasterer, who has patched up the hall ceiling following the leak from the alarmingly young hot water cylinder - it lasted less than three years.  Hoping for better from the stainless steel replacement.  That evening we went to a screening of Conclave at our village hall.  Excellent fillum: highly recommended: though the action was sometimes rather slow, the performances of Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci and Isabella Rossellini (who bears a startling resemblance to her late mother Ingrid Bergman) were superb.  The only downside was the bum-paralysing chairs!

Sunday we were off to East Kent for lunch as guests of cousin Philippa and her husband David, both of whom have recently celebrated biggish birthdays.  Good lunch at the Blue Anchor in Brabourne Leas, and a good catch up with family and old friends, and a chance to meet the next generation.  

Travelling is hellish hereabouts.  It’s bad enough getting out of the village at the moment while work continues on gas main replacement, but then the countless roadworks just add delay and frustration.  Years of neglect have left our roads in an appalling state, and the gas mains seem to need replacing just about everywhere.

Our ride over to Rochester today was just about as awful, but, thanks to various diversions we at least kept moving much of the time, unlike the poor souls on the M2: as we crossed it we could see all three lanes stationary: evidently there’s a fault on the Medway bridge.  Worth the journey, though: it was the first time we’d seen Martyn’s niece Fiona and Alexander in their new house.  Copious sandwich lunch: I fear I may have overdone it.  Egg mayonnaise and coronation chicken sandwiches are the sure way to my heart.  And to my belly, alas.

A good German conversation meeting on Tuesday.  Our host Dave had found a couple of texts from Deutsche Welle about (1) German reinforcement of the Lithuanian army and (2) the doubtful legality of sending away immigrants and asylum seekers at the country’s Schengen area borders.  A small group this time, just us four blokes, but it went well nevertheless.  An amusing incident afterwards: I had parked the far side of the railway bridge next to Dave’s house, and as it was raining I had the umbrella up.  A woman on a horse was coming the other way, and evidently the umbrella scared the horse: ‘would you mind taking your umbrella down: I can feel his heart really pounding!’  One gladly complied.

The garden is growing well - the weeds in particular.  The bees are having a good time too.  I haven’t seen too many honey bees in recent days, but we’ll surely see them in their dozens when the sedum comes into flower. 

The tomatoes are coming along well at the second attempt, so I’ll get them planted in their definitive pots in the coming days.  The spuds meanwhile are also doing well, so we’re hoping for a decent crop this year.  The apple tree has set a lot of fruit, but the June drop seems to have started a few days early!  Most of our strawberry plants have been eaten by slugs and snails, but we have a few plants left, and hope for the best.  We aren’t expecting much of a crop from the blueberries this year.  I think a combination of local competition and drought have sent it off into a sulk.  Ah, the frustrations of suburban gardening on heavy clay!

Garden

An encouraging time of year, as old favourites come back to life, and we find spaces for new ones.  This pink rose is Geoff Hamilton: we planted it almost 17 years ago in memory of Martyn’s mother shortly after she died.  It’s a bit sentimental, I suppose, but it’s better than sending cut flowers.  We planted a Compassion in memory of my sister-in-law Margaret, and it is growing strongly on a trellis at the side of the house.  Elsewhere in the garden we have creamy white Diamond Days Forever (for brother-in-law Michael), Phab Gold (for nephew Tim) and Ingrid Bergman (for neighbour Rowena).  They all help to bring back the good memories. 

We went looking today for a replacement climber for the one that the fencing people killed when they added a spur to our neighbours’ fence, but couldn’t find one that would tolerate the predominantly shady position it’ll occupy.  I’ll do a spot of research before we go looking again.

At the second attempt I’ve got some tomato seed to germinate.  It means that the crop will be late and smaller, but we hope to have a supply of delicious Sweet Olive tomatoes in the summer.  We have lots of potatoes coming on in the larger raised bed, and also in the bed where we grew spuds last year.  Not part of the plan: I’d intended it to be a herb bed, right at the kitchen door.  We obviously didn’t do a very good job of cropping last year’s spuds!  I have few hopes for them, though: the tomatoes we grew there later last year got blight.

The bulbs have finished flowering in the borders and containers, and the polyanthus are past their best.  We’ve started moving the latter to nursery beds for a bit of nurture before we plant them out again in the autumn.  In their place are petunias, nicotianas and trailing lobelias for summer colour.  The oriental poppies are coming into flower again, much to our delight - and that of the bees.  Unfortunately they have a short flowering season, but they are spectacular.  We have a pale pink one at the front of the house: it took a year or two off after we had the front garden laid to green slate clippings, but they are notoriously difficult to kill, I’m glad to say.  

Another short-life beauty is the iris sibirica.  We have a lot of the lighter blue kind, descended from my mother’s plants, but only one of this richer blue, given to us by my art teacher Pat.  

Another gift from her is a very vigorous sedum, but that’s a month or two off its rather longer flowering season.  That’s another subject that attracts dozens of honey bees in summer, so that’s something else to look forward to.  Unfortunately, the bees are as attractive  to the hornets as the sedum is to the bees, so we get to watch nature at its harshest as well as its most beautiful.

The grass is cut, the laundry is up to date, so we can take some time off.  Today we have taken a trip down to Rye Harbour for lunch at a favourite pub, the William the Conqueror.  Martyn can seldom resist fish and chips: I went for a rather good halloumi burger.  It came piled up with aubergine, tomato, red pepper and a big field mushroom, and was rather delicious.  Back to work tomorrow, I think:  there are lots more containers to plant up for summer colour.

 

EDF - ever get that sinking feeling?

When we got the solar panels fitted last year I registered with our energy supplier, Électricité de France, under the Smart Export Guarantee scheme, a process that took months.  I emailed a few days ago to ask where my money was, and got an automatic reply today, telling me how to register…. It doesn’t help that the phone number they gave in the email gets the ‘number not recognised’ tone.  I have fired off a terse email.  Watch this space.

I did not choose to get my supply from EDF: the regulator slammed us to them when our old supplier went tits-up.  It then took them getting on for a year to act on our direct debit mandate, so we finished up with a whopping first bill.  We have stayed with EDF so far because, with everything else that’s going on in our lives, switching is an ordeal we prefer to avoid.  But next time our contract ends, I think we’ll be changing supplier and export customer malgré tout.

Calamities come in threes - I hope…

The oven packing up was a minor inconvenience.  My tumble in the street is still bothering me ten days on.  And last Tuesday we came down to find water dripping from the hall ceiling.  Again.  We had a new hot water cylinder fitted barely three years ago, and the bugger was leaking already.  Anyway, the Taylor twins have fitted a new stainless steel cylinder which should, they assure us, see us out.  Famous last words.  Plasterer comes tomorrow, then we have to decide whether to repaint the ceiling ourselves or GSI.

Well, the fettled oven did its job yesterday, roasting a chicken for our lunch with Marion and Derry, and some amuse-bouche with the aperitifs.  Palmiers with red pesto and prosciutto: our usual ones use garlicky cream cheese and smoked salmon, but Marion can’t eat fish.  Nice afternoon in good company.  We have been dining since then on the leftovers!

Getting old

Nasty surprise on Easter Sunday: we’d prepared a leg of lamb to feed Sis-in-law Sandra.  I did my usual OCD cooking timetable, but having set the oven at the appointed time, found that it had not heated.  Fortunately, we have a small combi oven in the same column, so lunch was only delayed by half an hour.  We have meanwhile contacted our excellent fettlers of electricals, who sent a chap within a few hours to replace the heating element.  Haven’t had the bill yet…

I was already starting to get nervous about walking on the uneven footways hereabouts.  Sure enough, after a u3a new members’ meeting yesterday, I tripped and fell on the way back to the car park, grazing my knees and cutting the tips of a finger and a thumb.  A young chap of SE Asian appearance rushed to help me: there are some kind people around.  The right knee was already sore following a fall in our holiday flat on the IoW, and it’s a bloody sight sorer now.  I left a trail of blood to the car - which it took me ages to find in the unfamiliar car park.  The 1999 vintage German first aid kit was little help: plenty of gauze, but no plasters or adhesive tape.  (Now remedied.). To add insult to injury, despite thorough preparation of our u3a stall (v. supra) we failed to sign anyone up for the German conversation group we were representing.  

Oh well.  I’ve been out in the garden today doing token watering and weeding.  We’re sort of between seasons at the moment: the bulbs have practically finished, and the roses are starting to bud.  Needless to say, the greenfly are back on the three roses we planted last year, so a suitable product is on the shopping list.  The viburnum at the side of the house will be magnificent in a week or so, and I’m looking forward to seeing how the oriental poppies will do.  We bought some new ones last year, and some of the others appear to have spread or self sown.

Driving hereabouts becomes ever more of a trial.  We’ve just finished two weeks of disruption when a key road to our end of town was closed for work on the gas mains.  Now the main road through the village is being dug up for the same purpose, with single track operation and temporary traffic lights.  The knock-on effects paralyse various other roads - including the one that has just re-opened.  Said road took me about 25 minutes yesterday afternoon cf. the usual 2-3.  Glad I don’t have to use it for work: I expect a resurgence of ‘working from home’ will ensue.

And home again

What do I make of the Isle of Wight?  Mixed bag, really.  I was expecting it to be quaint and old-fashioned.  Although I saw some little clusters of thatched houses and pubs, there are sprawling 20th century suburbs like everywhere else, and all the familiar names: Morrison, Sainsbury, Co-op, Aldi and Lidl.  Traffic, even off-season, was busy in the towns and on the main roads, and there was no shortage of aggressive young drivers in white vans.  

But the landscape is varied, ranging from bleak moorland to spectacular coastal scenery, and the place was blooming fit to bust with subjects that wouldn’t stand a chance further north.  The gardens at Osborne are a picture at the moment, and even at the IoW Steam Railway, the roses have responded well to my kind of pruning (hard!) and look really healthy and promising.

The railway visit was fun but rather expensive.  Pre-war rolling stock hauled by an ex-Army saddle tank 0-6-0.  Very comfortable, in stark contrast to modern rolling stock.  There is also an interesting and well-labelled museum.  Primroses and wind anemones in profusion along the track side, and of course lots of blossom in the trees.  We filled Monday with visits: the donkey sanctuary in the morning and Osborne House and gardens in the afternoon.  The donkey sanctuary is much bigger than we’d expected: they have about 180 donkeys, a mule and a white pony.  The donkeys are lovely tranquil beasts - except when they bring round a barrow of hay!  

Osborne is spectacular and period-correct ostentatious.  Vulgar though it all is, you cannot but admire the workmanship, particularly of the ceilings.  Lots of well-informed and enthusiastic volunteers to explain stuff as you go round.  My step count for the day was close to three times my target, so I was a shade footsore by evening.

Between the two visits we went across to Ryde for a stroll round and fish and chips on the Esplanade, and watched the hovercraft leaving and returning on the short crossing to Portsmouth.  Part of the reason for going there was that there is an EV charging point in the car park closest to the seafront: it delivered a full charge while we explored and had lunch.  Glad I’ve got the hang of that at last.  Much dearer than charging at home overnight, of course, but it’s still cheaper than combustion fuel.

Our digs were expensive and disappointing.  The kitchen was well-equipped but cheaply furnished, and we had to wash most of the crockery, cutlery and pans before we could use them.  Storage space everywhere bar the kitchen was close to non-existent, and we had to buy toilet and kitchen paper, as well as seasonings, which we usually expect to find in holiday lets.  Granted, they had provided a pint of milk, but we’d brought that anyway.  We’ve had bigger and better flats for substantially less, even in Switzerland.  But the place was quiet, and the view was stupendous.

We got to Fishbourne this morning in time for the ferry before the one we’d booked, so were in Pompey by the time we were due to leave Fishbourne.  Not a bad drive home (particularly since Martyn drove!) but the noisy M25 surface on much of the south-west seems to be exaggerated by the low profile tyres on the present car: most unpleasant.  Anyway, we were home in time for lunch of the sandwiches I’d expected to have somewhere en route.

The garden has not stood still, and the grass now definitely wants a cut!  Token gardening today: I’ve dead-headed a few daffs and hauled out a handful of weeds.  We seem to have had some decent rain while we were away: the big water butt is full to the brim.  Where we were, I think there was overnight rain one night, but we didn’t get wet: temperatures were on the chilly side, particularly first thing, but we were able to get out in the fresh air: not bad for a British April.

On the move again

We are treating ourselves to a few days away on the Isle of Wight: this the view from our digs.  The drive rather tired me out: I’m a bit short of stamina these days.  Before we checked in, we found a supermarket and an EV charging station in nearby Shanklin, so that’s the admin sorted.  We’re looking forward to exploring, or rather I am, and Martyn is looking forward to revisiting old haunts.  

Quiet afternoon and evening today: we brought our supper with us, so are getting to know the kitchen.  The flat has all we need: it’s not up the standard of places we’ve used in Switzerland, but at least there are comfortable chairs to relax in (unlike at our digs in Bern last year).  The view is delightful, and changes constantly as the day wears on, and the place is very quiet.  Watch this space.