A Week

I feel like someone who has got behind with her homework; no posts for a week, and the less I post the less motivated I am. Is this the beginning of the end, or just a bit of a pause? So just a few random thoughts about the last week or so while I catch up.

British politics continue to bemuse and frustrate me. Goodness only knows where or what the Labour party will be in twelve months time. Theresa May, our safe pair of hands, has suggested that people who live in homes where the government would like to frack could receive financial compensation. Sorry, but to me that makes no sense. Fracking makes no sense; the risks far outweigh the advantages, surely we should be investing in sustainable energy? And those people who live on that land are only the temporary custodians, the effects of fracking are something that future generations will have to deal with.

The local feline population has quadrupled over the last few weeks. The mystery of the pretty tabby has been solved, and she’s a he, so I got that wrong. My neighbour Wendy has been rather hoping he’s homeless, but it turns out he is called Romeo and is the loved cat belonging to the local Kurdish supermarket. The manager was both surprised and amused to learn Romeo has been exploring our garden. So that just leaves us wondering if the scruffy black cat with the white bib, the white and ginger cat, the two huge cats that look like pumas, have homes. The two fluffy black and white cats live over the wall; I think the smart (as in appearance, his IQ is questionable) black cat with the white bib is Johnny from over the road, and there seemed to be another tabby tonight. I am going to be on litter tray duty for a while yet.

But MasterB is still enjoying his new wobble biscuit toy, which from my point of view is great, as it doesn’t roll away and get hidden or stuck in awkward places round the flat.

Wobbly toy

He may not be the bravest cat in the world, but he is surely one of the most loved. That’s important.

himself

I must take some pictures of the tomatoes, they are blooming and ripening, so far only the yellow ones – but they my favourites – in any quantity, and just one cherry tomato. I am eating home grown chives every day, the fennel plant makes amazing tea, and there’s a jug of water and mint leaves in the fridge which makes a delicious fresh drink. My courgette plant which was wonderfully healthy has mysteriously died. I have no idea why. Add to this the rhubarb Celia has given me from her son’s allotment, the strawberry jam Octavia made last weekend, jam that has to be eaten in a week, so breakfast this week has been toast and her jam. You can’t eat hollyhocks, or at least I don’t think you can. But they are a feast for the eyes.

hollyhocks

Back in the east the fields are gloriously green.

field and agricultural equipment

green field, blue sky

I’ve been working every day since returning from das Boot, and I am working tomorrow and Sunday too. But then not until Thursday, so on Monday, MasterB and I shall head boatwards once more. And it again looks as though our getaway will coincide with days of high temperatures in the capital. Great timing. I am hoping to see older Nephew who went to the cricket with Celia’s husband Charlie yesterday and sent me a text saying Charlie was a ‘fanastic guy’, so I gather all went well.

shimmer

I have been very tempted by these planters at the organic farm. So far I have resisted. Next week may be the moment when I cave in.

planters

Tonight I am staying up beyond my bedtime to call Vicky in Melbourne. November is only a matter of weeks away, and for the first time in my life I shall be in the southern hemisphere. Amazing. As the Olympics are on, staying up is not so hard. It’s getting off to bed when there are still things going on that I want to watch that’s difficult. That and getting up in the morning.

Advertisement