Different Strokes

I’m still largely in summer sloth mode. I have had a few tentative forays out to cut things back, but in the main it’s still either (i) too hot and dry or (ii) tipping down with a summer monsoon. To maintain an illusion of activity I have filled the top of the garage with dangling bunches of drying flowers and I have a layer of lavender heads, a layer of calendula petals and a layer of plum crumble soap all drying in the new bespoke drying rack in my garret. I am immensely proud of this latter innovation. It is a 5 drawer apple storer which came flat pack and was assembled by yours truly – drumroll – using a power drill for the bigger sections. OK Lachlan had to show me how to get a bit in the drill and Keith, somewhat witheringly, found the 2 missing drawer sides (they had stuck together forming what I thought was a completely different thing), but still the rack is still standing and only very slightly wonky.

Another only slightly wonky item is the new knitting project. This besports a slightly fancy cable on the front (I had to watch a you tube video to decipher one of the abbreviations). As a result I had to concentrate on the chart quite hard for the first repeat. Unfortunately this coincided with a couple of cliffhanger moments in the new Audiobook (CJ Samson Dominion – rather good, though the scenario is slightly reminiscent of Fatherland by Robert Harris) so there is one bit of cable turning the wrong way and a couple of decreases missing. Now my mum would have ripped the whole thing back and recommenced but I am channelling the carpet makers of Cairo and leaving a small mistake as evidence I am less perfect than god.

It has been very airless at night and often it seems I only get to sleep in the early morning. This alas, is the prime time for visits from various pets so sometimes it is just easier to get up and make the coffee. The other day though I was pinioned in bed by the dog and Keith volunteered. I snuggled down under our hairy friend awaiting caffeine thinking that, with luck, Keith would do the pots from the night before whilst waiting for the coffee to come through (I find the machine takes just long enough to get them done unless Lachlan has been cooking). On coming down later I found Keith had spent the brewing time carefully pickling the first 3 gherkins from the greenhouse before returning to bed with the coffee.

Lachlan has been down for a flying visit (mainly to see the dog) and we had a family stroll around the cow circular this morning before he heads back to do battle with the electricity company in relation to the missing smart meter for the new flat. We ran into Alan, who looks after the Douglas Fold, and chatted cow chat. It transpires that the two little steers Lyra and I have been chatting to on our walks are destined for the farm shop before too long. I don’t think we’ll be shopping there just for a bit. I’ve got rather fond of “the lads”. I’m not averse to eating longhorn beef in principle (Lachlan is with me here but Keith now thinks this is akin to cannibalism) but I do prefer not to have been on chatting terms with the particular steer.

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