Whirling Dervish Redux

No sooner had I declared that all is sloth, relaxation and a very laid back contemplation of my navel (see previous post) than mum came down with pleurisy (or some such) which triggered a massive asthma attack. She was duly ferried to hospital (protesting all the way) and firmly left there plugged in to the oxygen with all means of escape confiscated. Four days later she was much improved, administering her own medication and clucking round the ward sorting everyone out (in a good way). Keith was despatched to collect her on his way back from the tip and duly did so resplendent in filthy shorts (it not being November yet) a tatty fleece gilet and a T-shirt that had more holes than the Governments Budget policy. I believe this caused quite the stir.

Once back at Ruthven for mandatory convalesence we mustered a few gentle walks round the Hirsel with Lyra before the rain and wind set in with a vengeance. It is still strangely mild temperature wise and there are still a few cygnets on the lake (a second clutch perhaps?). The mushrooms also seem definitely to have gone into overdrive. However, the balmy days were few and far between and we were largely thrown upon indoor pursuits. Never one not to take advantage of having mum captive to assist as plongeur-in-chief, I embarked upon an odessey of slittery jobs. This year’s home made hooch was double filtered, tasted and bottled, we tried out several experimental cake recipes (cake stores are at an all time high and the builders finishing the chimneys have no complaints about their role as guinea pigs so far), surplus russets made their way into vegan mincemeat and we even mustered three batches of soap. Frankly, it was with considerable regret that I drove her home yesterday. Every mad inventor needs a willing assistant to drive them on and, whilst I am in no way comparing the beloved Mater to an Igor (for one thing there is no bolt through her neck), she has excellent “egging on” skills. No ridiculous suggestion of mine goes without a resounding “Well I can’t see why not…”

With the fire on in the evening and the garden largely out of bounds due to the swamp like soil knitting and sewing has resumed. Keith’s epic cardigan inches forward…. I am heartily sick of it now but by tonight the body will be done and I shall be down to the facings and folderols, which should be much more amusing. The old library curtains are now providing a store of additional Christmas stockings and I have moved on to this year’s novelty items, advent calendars (to be revealed after gifting of course). I never seem to be getting to the end of the stuff and there are still quite large bits of the back bedroom and landing curtains to use up as well. Whilst I could throw them out, that seems defeatist. To make matters worse, Keith spent last night pulling down the old spare bedroom curtains (new ones have been ordered) and I fear that I shall no sooner have used up the Library ones than I shall have to come up with a plan for the spare room ones. This is getting ridiculous. Perhaps I shall make myself yellow gardening dungarees and look like a member of the cast of Rainbow.

Today the sun is out and after a blowy day yesterday I have optimistically put on the gardening strides, breakfasted on porridge and fully intend to weed and mulch one of the borders with a view to justifying some advanced cake testing in the afternoon. Balance is all…..

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