Bonus!

At the end of last week, two separate conversations with Small PErson's (SP) mum collided in my memory.

The first was when she'd said that SP went back to school on Wednesday and the second was that she was had Thursday, Friday and Monday off work.    I messaged her to check, and offered to have SP on Tuesday if that was the case.  She messaged back to say thank you, and that SP's dad was going to have SP on Tuesday. She'd check with him.

SP overheard her mum and dad discussing it,  and asked if she could come to me instead. Result for all of us!

So, we had a bonus day yesterday, an unexpected pleasure.

I had a couple of things planned:  some time with the chicks, trying to get them used to being caught,  and teaching her to sew something simple.

Unfortunately, it turned out that SP had quite a bit of homework to do,  so we actually spent almost the whole day doing that.      She had to find out some stuff and do a poster (or Powerpoint) about Van Gogh.    I had an idea about decorating it with little thumbnail sized pics of  his pictures... and then when I found out how many pictures that was,  we adapted the design.  We still only used about half of them.   I spent most of the day cutting them out for her to stick.

 I learned quite a bit, and I made sure that she could explain all the points on her poster (How old was he when he died?  How many paintings did he create?  How many drawings?  How many did he sell in hs lifetime?   What happened about the Ear?  What was different between Gaugin and Van Gogh's style of painting?   What is a "lay preacher"?  What is an "art dealer"?  What was special about the painting that sold in 1990?) so that the teacher would know that SP had really done the work.

We did fit in some chick time,  and time to eat ice lollies and bagels.  We also witnessed an incident with Sherbert and Fizzbert, the two "Legcauna".       There was some facing-off going on,  normal at their age.  And then it turned a bit nasty,  and then it turned very nasty.  We went out and I separated th etwo girls, shut oe in the run, and brought the othe rone in the house.    I cleaned her up and applied lots of Septicleanse,  and then swapped them over.

I realised that the apparent aggressor, Fizzbert,  was actually reacting from having a bit of her comb bitten off by Sherbert.    I kept an eye on them for the rest of the afternoon, and noticed that they kept their distance from each other. 

Small Person, of course, wanted to know what my contingency plans were going to be.  "What would you do if they keep fighting?  ". She'd worked out that we didn't have any room to permanently separate them.  I explained that I'd probably have to keep the aggressive one in a dog crate for a while, and then reintroduce and see what happens.   

"What if that didn't work?"  Well, I'd probably have to rehome one of them
"What if you couldn't rehome one?"  Worst case, I'd have to cull.
"What if they were both aggressive"  Well, I'd probably have to pick one to keep.
"Which one?" I honestly don't know. I don't have a favourit
and so on.

We'd had a different conversation a few days before.
"What if Herbert isn't a boy?"  Well, I'll keep him and call him Herbalina (which was SP's suggestion of a name for one of the Legcaunas.
"What if one of the white ones is a boy?" Well, I'd have to try and rehome him.
"Why wouldn't you keep him?"  I only have room for one cockerel
"What if Herbert is a girl and one of the white ones is a boy, would you keep him?" No.
"Why?" Because we breed for the table,  and I need a cockerel that will prodiuce good table birds.  The white chicks are from breeds which are great egg producers, not table birds".

I'm used to these conversations now,  I try and answer honestly and without showing embarassement (and without going in to too much detail). 

We've had several conversations about hens, cockerels,chicks, eggs, fertilised eggs, incubation and brooding. 
 
Yesterday, as we were learning about Van Gogh,  she said  "It says Van Gogh sent his ear to a prostitute.  What's a prostitute?"   A prostitute is a woman who has sex for money instead of for pleasure or making babies.


I digress.

This morning, I opened the back of their coop to see whether anything had happened in the night, but all was well.  And today they were sitting next to each other in the sunshine, so harmony has been restored.  A bit of a relief really.

Appliancing

On Sunday morning, the dishwashwer was displaying a fault code.   I googled it, and found lots of online help about what the error probably meant, and suggestions on how to fix it.  It was one of those generic error codes, where you have to work down the list and eliminate various causes.

I took out the trays,  and then DH and I attempted to remove the plinth that was holding the machine in.  Easier said than done.

Some time later, the plinth had been removed and the dishwasher was out and being laid on its side. 
One of the legs snapped. My fault I think.


We located the part,  tested it,  tested somewhere else (to make sure it wasn't somewhere else that was causing the problem), and then took out the part.  DH cleaned it up as instructed, and refitted it.

Righted the machine, turned everything back on, started it.. same fault.  So, the little part needing replacing.

It was going to cost almost £100 for the part.   There was no guarantee that this would solve the problem.  Our dishwasher is 12 years old.

We ended up buying a new dishwasher.  We used AO, and paid for next-day delivery.   I didn't really want to spend the money,  but I know what I'm like.  If I'd waited until free delivery on Tuesday,  by Monday evening I would be cursing that I hadn't spent the money.

As it was, I ended up with slightly dishpan hands.    Hand washing is SO wasteful!  I couldn't bear to have the tap running to get to the hot water,  I had to catch it in a bucket and give it to the plants. Or wash the floor with it.       

I don't think kids today realise that you have to use really really hot water to properly wash up.  I was wishing I had some Marigolds.   And all that water for rinshing!    And the draining board got full so quickly.... I even employed one of the dishwasher drawers to try and accommodate all the clean washing up.

The new machine didn't arrive until 5pm the next day,  by which time I'd done more washing up by hand than I've probably done in the last two years.

When I bought my first dishwasher (thirty something years ago), my friends and family thought I was crazy to buy such an unnecessary luxury.  Now, I imaging that a couple of days without one would have them tearing their hair out - or eating takeaway on paper plates.

Child-sized PROPER tools

SmallPerson had been helping in the garden.   One of the things she helped with, was raking up the windfall apples and pears.   Our lawn rake was far to big for her to use and she tried, valiantly, to hold it about half way down.

I went online to research child sized garden tools.  I found a lot of rubbish - garden "tools" that were really just toys,  about as useful as a childs pretend lawnmower.    I found some upmarket ones, which cost a small fortune - far more than I was prepared to spend in these circumstances.

And then I found some that actually looked good and weren't prohibitively expensive.  Even with next-day delivery, they were still not a bad price, and I decided to order several items.  I ordered a lawn rake, a garden rake, and some hand tools.  I was tempted to buy other items as well, but I wanted to order things that I knew Small Person could use immediately.

They didn't arrive. I hadn't noticed that they were on a "3-6 day delivery".  About a week after I'd placed my order, I emailed the supplying company, who responded immediately.  They apologised, and explained that the items come directly from the manufacturer,  and the manufacturer had just implemented new delivery systems which had been causing some problems.


The items arrived today,  and we won't be seeing Small Person again until October.

The items really are lovely.  They are well made,  they are proper garden tools, just a smaller version. They have lacquered ash handles, and carbon steel tines.  

Small Person will love them.

I can see that I am going to end up ordering the fork. And maybe the hoe.  And maybe the spade.

Here's a link to the website (no affiliate link or anything like that) https://www.worldofpower.co.uk/garden-toys.html

 

Small Person - Final week

Small Person has just left with her Mum, and the house is very quiet.   It's most likely that we won't see her again until the October half-term,  which gives me time to get the house tidied up and my (our)  batteries recharged.

This week we only had the pleasure of her company for 2 days, but they were really hectic. 

Yesterday she and I spent 3 hours at the allotment doing the late summer deep cleaning of all the coops.   She wanted to have a go at everything, and I wanted to make sure that everything was done thoroughly, which meant I had to take the time to show her how to use the sprayer etc properly.  

On the way home we discussed whether to buy  bagels for late lunch on the way home when we were both covered in Stalosan, Diatom, and chicken poo,  or to come out again later after a shower.    Her tummy won, and w etried to buy Bagels at our local Co-op (or Coop  as Small Person, understandably, thinks its pronounced) on the way home.  No bagels.

I tried out local petrol station, and they had some.  So, home,  bagels, and then showers.

I desperately wanted to sit down (and have a Nana nap,  something I don't often do!).  Instead, we played with the chicks, I taught her how to get them to fly up on to her arm.    She had been such a help, and her shoes were in such a state from c*ap at the allotment, that I thought I'd try and buy her a replacement pair. We bought her these  pink shoes last half term, and she's worn them to death. We went to the local town and found a similar pair, not pink. I also suggested we looked in the shop for a plain tee shirt that I could embroider for her.  No luck.  All the Small People stuff was already awash with designs.

On the way back to the car,  we were walking past Next,  so we popped in and had a look there.  I got her to try on some tops for size,  and we ended up buying a couple of multipacks.  This means I can embroider something now,  and have some in stock to do for her over the next few months.


Dinner was entrecote steak with dauphinoise potatoes.  I cooked the steaks very very rare (which is how she has it),  and she really enjoyed that.  She didn't mind the potatoes, but she did try and hide some under her knife so I know they weren't her favourite thing.    One of the things I really love about having her is that (with some exceptions) food isn't a drama.  She eats most things,  she'll try most things,  and she likes proper food.

Curse of the Were Rabbit and Great British Bake Off , and she went to bed. She slep until 9.30 this morning, which was not a surprise AND a complete surprise all in one.

Today was manic.    We started, as usual, with her making Nutella pancakes.  She'd had them as a treat for lunch as well one day last week,  and we were trying to replicate what the restaurant had done.   We nailed it today,  with me putting some nutella in a bowl in some warm water to loosen it, and suggesting that she added some baking powder to her batter.

The loop for her phone case (made by me) fell apart yesterday, meaning the case is useless, and I really wanted to make her a replacement.  She chose the fabrics last night , and I started to do the cutting out, and setting up the embroidery machine this morning.  I'm still not familiar with the machine, and it's a hideously complicated design (with extra back pocket, a tab, and goodness knows what else)  so it was taking a while. 

After I'd finally cut the mountain of pieces, in various fabrics and interfacings, Small Person announced that her Mum had found the Homework Sheet. This sheet had mysteriously disappeared some weeks ago and hadn't turned up despite me asking SP at the beginning of each week if she had homework to do.   

She had 8 pieces of homework to do.  We'd sort of done 1, getting her to practice her Maths, but that left 7 pieces to be completed by Wednesday.      She picked a large project one to tackle (A Skill I've Learned in the Holidays) which had to be detailed and include photographs (i.e. proof).  For the next few hours I battled rying to concentrate on sewing while trying to answer her questions and help her think about how how to tackle the project and then how to do each bit of it.

I had to help her articulate each bit of the skill,  and this involved asking her questions and getting her to really explain,  and then how to word it so anyone who doesn't have this skill could understand.

It was painful.   She has the attention span of a flea.   We'd have a breakthrough in terms of her being able to describe something, and she'd start to write it - but she'd lose steam before the words were written down.   She gets very frustrated with herself, and expends a lot of time and energygetting huffy, annoyed, fed up, etc.  We talked about how pointless that is. I was unpicking stitches at the time and I explained that I was frustrated that I'd made a mistake, but instead of getting cross and wasting energy on being frustrated and moaning about it,  I was instead just unpicking it and getting on with it.

I had to check her work for her, and go through spellings, but we got there in the end.   She then started on her second project which was a textile project.  I gave up all hope of doing the phone case,  and helped her plan her work and helped her find textiles with different textures.

DH and I had to pop out to the DIY shop (old farts discount day), and she asked to be left at home ("to finish my homework").   I agreed, after a moments hesitation,  and explained that we were leaving her at home to finish her homework, and that we expected the homework to be finished.   We gave her some rules about not going out,  not letting anyone in,  what to do if a parcel was delivered, answered her catastophising questions ("what if they say an adult has to sign?").   She asked if she was allowed to have a "short break" ("Of course, as long as the homework is finished by the time we get back. And by 'finished', I mean.... " blah blah).  I've learned that being specific avoids misunderstandings (and takes out wriggle room).

I finished by saying that we were trusting her with this, and if she let us down, well, we wouldn't trust her to stay at home on her own again.

It was fine.  She did the homework (she sent me a WhatsApp part way through to show me her progress.  She later told me that she'd also had a go on  the running machine, had been out to play with the chicks, had stroked the cat....   But her homework was finished to the exact point we'd agreed.

I then had to print out two photos to go on the first but of homework, and get her organised with all her stuff at the door. And then get her to clear up the detritis of her homework,  and her snacks.  She put the chooks away for me, and then her Mum arrived.

I'm knackered, but I'm pleased to have seen so much of her for the holidays. It won't be long before she'll be too old to enjoy coming over and spending time with us

Hoisted.

I've had no enthusiasm for tidying, housework, embroidery or sewing since DH fell off the shed roof. 

Today I gritted my teeth, and attempted to Get On With It.

GOWI involved firing up the heat press and pressing a massive pile of tee shirts.  And then going in the loft,  retreiveing some bee-keeping related paraphernalia and bringing it downstairs to donate to an acquantance who has started beekeeping.

And in the space created,  I put the flat pack boxes which have been junking up one of the rooms for the past 6 months (or so).  And I brought down a couple of other items which I've advertised as giveaways on our local facebook page,   some items which I'm attempting to sell,  and some items for a charity shop.   Then I did a small amount of clearing up in the ex-box room,  and threw away some fabric remnants (into a textile bag to take to the recycling centre).  I saw a post asking for beer making stuff, so I retrieved some items from the loft, and answered the request.  The hall is now awash with stuff awaiting collection.

I put the enormous bag of polysturene beads, bought to make an arm rest for DH, in the loft.  Unfortunately the bag split, and the balls started haemorrhaging all over the loft. I had to call DH to get the sellotape while I held my hand on the wound to stop the beads escaping.  I taped it up and then put the bag in two bin bags, and finally hoovered up.  I had to hoover the landing as well, because those balls got everywhere.  The landing was a bit surprised at being hoovered, I suspect.

The other milestone moment is that we took down the hoist in the bedroom!   DH's arm is still very weak,  but he's decided he can manage to get out of bed without using the hoist now.     Currently it's dismantled and lying on the massage couch. It weights a lot and we've no where to store it yet,  we need to do a bit more loft clearance!

I'm not sure I'll continue with GOWI tomorrow, but I will try.

Herbert, Sherbert, and Fizz(bert)

Maybe.

I've tried out several names for the 3 chicks, and these are the stickiest ones so far,

Herbert is the Vorwerk boy (probably). 

Sherbert and Fizz(bert) are 'Legcanas' (Leghorn/Araucana cross. No idea which is the male/female side( .  They've both got sort of Leghorn tails. They're combs look like they're going to be Araucana-ish.  Sherbert has sideburns (like an Araucana),  and Fizz(bert) has a clean face like a Leghorn.  At least that's how it seems at the moment.  Hopefully they'll be laying blue eggs.  

Small Person wanted me to call one of the Girls "Herbiana".  That's why I didn't ask her to suggest names... but if Herbert turns out to be a girl,  I'll call her Herbiana.

Small Person - lost count of the week

We didn't have Small Person last week as the lucky lady was at a pony camp, improving her riding and learning to jump.   It was great to have a break,  and I missed her.  Good on both points.

She was back with a vengeance on Monday.   Her first surprise was discovering that we had three new chicks,  and her second delighted surprise was learning that we wanted her to spend time with them. 

First,  I showed her how to let them out and to stand there until they had come out of the Run.  On no account was she to try and pick them up when letting them out.   We wanted them to learn that it was safe to come out when we were around, and that meant they had to learn they could do it  without being molested.

Later I showed her how to pick them up, and how to reward them with a little treat for being picked up.   And then how to sit down  and get them to come to her and to allow themselves to be stroked.   I checked to make sure that she was only letting them eat the interesting chick food (Garvo) when they were being stroked.  If they resisted, the food was removed.   The hardest lesson was getting her to leave them wanting more.

Later, we had mealworms and we rewarded them for letting us catch them.

She took us at our word and spent a large part of the three days playing with the chicks.

This morning I went in to the chick run and they were running around my feet.  Later, when I went out to play with them, they were flying up on my lap and arms as soon as I sat down.  I think, perhaps, I let Small Person play with them too much!

The shyest one is no longer shy, so that's a bit of a result.

It wasn't all chicks.   We had to pop into town, so we stopped for an emergency pancake.  We also made Nutella Lava Cake in the Microwave, which was horrendously sweet and I couldn't eat mine.  Small Person had misread the recipe so had used too much sugar.  We did the Allotmenteers, twice.  We had been planning to do a deep clean, but the weather wasn't dry enough.  

We'd also found an air rifle that was fairly light, and she had a go at target shooting with that, while we supervised.       As has become traditional this holiday, we watched a Wallace and Gromt film - this week we're up to A Matter of Loaf and Death. She also watched an episode of TaskMaster, which meant she stayed up far too late for a Small Person but she'd cleaned out the Garden Girls and the Chicks for me so she deserved it.

We played a Maths game which she likes (and needs, as she really does need the practice).  It's called Mobi, and I'm amazed that she asks to play it!    She did some labelling, helped DH, and we played table tennis.  Oh, she also cleared some weeds behind the greenhouse, I' can't squeeze down there.  She had a bit of a silly fit about a spider, and I tried to help her see how irrational this fear is.    It didn't help while she was standing there, but later she did say she could see that I was right and she'd try next time.

Just one more week to go!

The world keeps turning

I don't like not having a cockerel with the Allotmenteers.  There are a lot of them, all different ages,  and they need keeping in check.   A good cockerel looks out for his Ladies,  keeps watch for predators,  and stops any bullying.  There is still a hen pecking order, but the cockerel will usually stop it getting out of claw.

Camilla, number 11 out of 12 in the pecking order,  had been sticking close to Henry for some weeks,  and was right by his side for the last couple of days.  I'm worried that she'll get more pecked on than usual.  Souxsie Sioux, our smallest and oldest chook is number 12, and I think she'll suffer a bit too.

This time of year there are quite a lot of cockerels available, mant free to good home.   I thought about what I wanted:    a dual purpose breedd;  one that had been well handled; and a cockerel that had a chance of being good with us.     Oh, and something quickly.

 I did a local search, and found a lot of bantam cockerels, and cockerels from egg laying breeds.  Not so many dual purpose boys.    I then found an ad for a Vorwerk boy, 9 weeks old.   What a fab idea!  We could bring him home to the garden for a few weeks (until he started to crow), and we could get him used to us and used to being handled.  Perfect.

We retrieved the spare coop, which was a bit of a feat since DH has only one working arm at the mo.   We set it up, and I drove off to collect the lucky chap.    He's a little cutie pops.   We set him up in sight of the Garden Girls so he wouldn't feel too lonely.   Gloria escaped, and took an instant dislike to the interloper, and tried to peck him. 

As I watched him, I realised that he was going to have to be about 18 weeks old before I could try introducing him to the Girls at the allotment,  and 9 weeks was a long time for him to be "on his own".     I set about investigating getting a couple of similarly aged girls to grow on with him.

That was also harder than I expected.  I wanted to source locally,  I wanted something the right age,  and this time I wanted egg layers not dual purpose.   Once again, I found plenty of bantams.   I also found birds I didn't want: exchequer leghorns (I love leghorns,  but I still miss Lotti, my exchequer);  legbars (never again after that cow Milly) etc .

I found a chap who was selling 2 11 week old "legcanas" (Leghorn/Araucana cross).   I said "yes", and paid over the odds for them.  

The 3 of them are doing OK together at the moment,  I expect we'll see some jostling for position in the next few days.  That would happen even with hatchmates.

Small Person isn't here this week, and that's a shame. She would be a great asset to get them used to being handled!

Tough call

We culled Henry today.

I caught him easily,  and fed him scrambled eggs which he gobbled down.   I checked him over, and tested his legs. He couldn't grip.  He tried to stand, but couldn't.  I stroked him while he ate.  I realised that it was better to get it over with, rather than drag it out.  I told himn how much I loved him, what a wonderful boy he was, and how good he had been with his ladies.  I apologised that we didn't have a son to take over from him. 

We both had to do it, because DH only has one operational arm at the mo.  Afterwards, I sobbed like - well, like a girl I suppose.  I sobbed because he was so lovely and I was so sorry.   I cried for Camilla,  who had spent the last week within a few feet of him. I cried because the line was ending.  I cried because culling is such a hard thing to do, even though it's the right thing to do.


My lovely, lovely boy.

Surprise declutter

I had a very minor declutter of my utility room. Well, one half of one side of it anyway.

We'd decided to juice some pears.  For the first time in several years, the pears on the pear tree were not covered in canker.   I've been eating 1 or 2 a day, but now they are ripening and falling from the tree.   We wanted to at least try to do something with the ones that were left.

So, I went a picked a fair few.  We decided to juice them,  using the juicer I'd got from the bargain shelf at Lakeland last year (when we had so few apples it wasn't worth getting out the full apple pressing kit).   The juicing went well,  we chose to freeze the juice rather than pasteurising it.

I thought it might be a good idea to move the juicer so it was on our main worktop, along with our other "every day use" (slight cough) electricals. That way, I might actually use it. At least for the next month or two, while the fruit is ripening.

I made a space, which involved a bit of farting around,  and then a bit more farting around elsewhere in the kitchen.   I looked at the electric butter churn, and decided to find a permanent home for it in the utility room, rather than standing on the side.

Easier said than done.  The upshot of this is that I've decluttered a whole section of the utility room in order to get this fitted in.  The decluttered stuff is now sitting on the floor, next to the computer, in the living room.  I've been photographing it and listing it for sale (or as freebies).  If the items don't go by tomorrow, I'll give them to a charity shop.

I have to do it quickly, other wise there is a risk that I'll start thinking "Maybe I'll use that after all".  That's what happened last time I got the Tefal Jam Maker out to sell it.    I haven't used it since then, I seem to prefer my maslin pan.    I think I kept it because it makes divine rice pudding..... but my Instant Pot also makes good rice pudding. As the Instant Pot is always in use, it's out on the worktop, so I'm never going to get round to using the Tefal Jam Maker for it.

Ageing and CBA

When I was younger - not a lot younger - I had a tremendous ability to grit my teeth and power on through long, tiring, jobs.   I've lost that determination somewhere along the line.

My kitchen is in a bit of a state.  Quite a bit of a state.  Well, truth be told, it's quite a lot of  a state.  It needs a proper clean, a tackle-each-cupboard-fully clean.     Not so long ago I would have taken a deep breath, and just done it. Cupboard after cupboard after cupboard,  motoring on until it was ALL done. It wouldn't matter if it took me one day, or two days.  It would all be done.  All of it.  Stopping only for the occasional cup of tea. 

Now, I'm suffering from an acute case of CBA, and it's more like I'm farting around and stopping for the occasional emptying of a cupboard.  Today I did two, including the corner cupboard where all the plates, bowls, serving dishes live.    I had to suppress a giggle when I realised I was actually feeling a sense of accomplishment for having emptied and cleaned it out, put stuff back,  and got a small pile to be distributed between "charity shop" and "bin".   

When did I become so feckless?!

Last week I'd cleaned 3 tall wall cupboards,  1 normal base cupboard,  the corener cupboard where the frying pans, mixing bowls,  large cake tins etc are, and under the sink.  It took me three days to do them.  Well, it took me a few hours, spread over 3 days.

I'm going to do the drawer unit next.  That will mean I'll be 1/3rd of the way through.

At this rate I won't be done by Christmas!

Time passes

It's been over 5 weeks - FIVE weeks! - since DH had his op, nearly 6 since his accident.  It's gone past in a bit of a blur really.


I need matchsticks to prop open my eyes, mainly because I'm not sleeping through the night. 

He's doing really well, and he's also trying to do too much.   We arranged some physio for his upper arm, and we ended up buying a massage table so that I could try and do the physio at home.  Muxed success.  Still, any physio (done correctly) is better than no physio.  

I'm keeping the tomatoes going, just about.   We haven't done anything with them, apart from eat a few and give the burst ones to the chooks.   We keep meaning for me to pick some pears and juice them,  but the time just runs out.  Sometimes it feels that sorting out the cats meds, doing the Allotment chooks each day (OC has been away for a couple of weeks or so),  visits to get the dressings changed,  physio appointments,  there isn't much time for much else.  It's not true, of course, it just feels that way.

Last week I tried to use my new (to me) multi needle embroidery machine.  I'd had it a month and, due to DH's accident, I hadn't used it.  I couldn't remember anything.  I'd bought a tee shirt for Small Person (SP) , and attempted to embroider a flowing horses head on it.  Unfortunately, I managed to catch a bit of the hem on the back (grrrr!),  but it was a scalloped hem and the snip wasn't obvious.    I learned a lot in that 20 minutes.

This week I made SP's mum a birthday card,  and I used my new Durkee frames to do it, so that was also an achievement.   I then tried to use the Durkee frame to make SP a tooth fairy door hanger.  SP chose the fabrics (cue much complaining about how difficult the choice was).   I got stuck in an error loop, and no amount of reading the manual helped.   I had SP yapping on (and on) while I was trying to figure it out,  and in the end  I gave up and used a normal hoop, and that worked OK. 



Small Person (SP) has been here for 3 days this week, and it's been an interesting time.  She's been excellent company as always,  helping me with the allotment chooks,  looking after our garden girls, etc.   The weather this week has mostly been appallingly wet,  but we did manage to get to the park on 3 occasions to try and play table tennis.  That went surprisingly well,  and now we can sustain short rallies so we're improving.

She's had some specific projects to work on,  like sorting out DH's pound coin collection (SP is fascinated by coins, and always spots "rare" (well, less common ones, and  she's usually right!). She had to use the laminator for this, and the labeller, and organise things.

We made a lovely courgette lemon drizzle cake for her mum (we made one last week for ourselves, it was scrummy);    after a bit of a wrestle with my new embroidery machine, I made her a "tooth fairy" door hanger (she has some wobbly milk teeth);  and I can't remember the rest.

I do know that she is obviously starting to feel settled here, because she's had a couple of short sulky fits.    The biggest one was in the car,  because I said "No" to making Angel Delight for her.  I had made some for her (us) the day before, and she loved it, and wanted more.   I refused, saying it was a special, occasional treat.       Wow, what a sulk!

I explained that sulking was not going to make me change my mind, in fact it would make me even more determined to say no.    The sulking continued for  the rest of the car journey.   I could see that she was trying to get herself out of the sulk (something I striggle to do myself, actually), so when she made overtures, I helped her out.    No, we didn't have the Angel Delight.  We did, however, have pains au chocolat while watching A Close Shave We had watched A Grand Day Out and The Wrong Trousers last week.

She's been trying to get the two light birds to stand on her arm.  Poor Girls.  She does seem to manage to pick up Sasha quite a bit. I told her to try and give her a little treat each time she picks her up, so that Sasha associates being picked up with getting a reward.    It seems to be working.

We don't have her next week, and that's good.  I can use the time to catch up on neglected home duties,  and maybe try and resolve that embroidery machine error.

Bye bye Batty

As soon as I arrived on the Allotment yesterday, I saw that Batty was not her normal sprightly self.

 I noticed a couple of weeks  ago that she had lost some weight, but she was eating well, barging her way around, and being very sprightly.  I mentioned the weight loss to DH, and said  that I thought she might need to be dispatched before long.

There was no change to her demeanour, until yesterday.  Yesterday she wasn't interested in courgettes, or corn,  and she seemed to be not quite all there.   I caught her, checked her over for wounds, gave her some Nutridrops.   It was possible that she was brewing a softy,  although I didn't think so.   She didn't seem in any distress,  we didn't really have any suitable dispatching implement, so we decided we'd take something with us today so we could do the deed if she hadn't improved.

She was in the coop, on the floor, already dead, when we arrived.    I'm glad we didn't have to dispatch her ourselves;  DH is one armed at the moment, so we would have been worried about not doing it cleanly. 

She was a lovely, friendly, cheeky girl.   She and her sister Norah are our last remaining offspring of Roo and Rose.  Rose was one of the original Welsh Black girls we brought back from Castle Farm when we settled on having an Indian Game cross breed for our table birds.  Roo was already there, we'd had him for a year I think by then,  he was our first home-hatched cockerel. We hatched him and two girls for the table,  but when it came to it we couldn't do it. We'd got too attached to the 3 of them.

The young Batty

Grown-up Batty

Batty had a relatively long and happy free range life.   She was so characterful, I'll miss her.  I'm pleased we still have Norah, although at over 6 she may not have that long to go.


A lot of them are senior citizhens now, so I'm trying to be mentally prepared for it.

Goodnight sweetheart xxx

Small Person, week 2.

Summer holidays are here, and that means we get to spend time with Small Person (SP) for a few days each week :-)

Mostly we just carry on with our normal routine, and SP joins in and helps.  Sometimes I save things to do that I know she'll like: for example, if there is any labelling to do, I make a note on a memo thing on the fridge, and SP gets out the labeller and does it for me.

We usually have her 3 days a week, and she stays over for one night.  She'd like to stay over for both nights (probably because she gets to stay up ridiculously late), but I am a firm believer in leaving them wanting more. So in the long holidays, we stick to one night.

She likes to have things that she's in charge of.  So, she gets to collect eggs (I try not to  collect them on the days she's not here, so she has plenty to collect) and she writes the date on them and puts them on the Egg Skelter.  She lets the Girls out and puts them in as necessary, and gives them their treats. If they need cleaning out, she does that.  She helps me with worming, heath checking, and playing with them.

She comes to the allotment and gets on with unlocking everything, cleaning and refilling waterers, collecting eggs.   At home, she measures out some of the cat meds. She goes to the shop (we're lucky the shop is very close by) to get Bagels for lunch.  She fills the bird feeders.  If she stays over on Air Rifle night, she comes to the Club with us.

She also takes on other "jobs". Picking (and eating) tomatoes and cucumbers.  She mowed the grass yesterday, which was an amazing feat as the lawnmower is big and heavy.   She did some weeding.  We do some cooking.  I've made her various articles of clothing (none of which have been particularly well sewn, I'm still learning) and she always seems pleased with them.

She's also been helping DH kit out his workshop, she's not just a girly girl. Today's task has been laying interlocking matting. He couldnt do it on his own because he's one handed at the mo.

She asks questions all the time, about anything and everything.  Some are easy to answer, some are more tricky.   She learned last holiday about fertilised eggs (why you don't need a cockerel to have eggs but you do if you want chicks,  what a fertilised egg actually is,  why a fertilised wgg won't necessarily result in a chick,  what incubation is,  what is thw difference between a hen incubating and us using an incubator,  why hens go broody even if they don't have eggs.... etc). 

This time we've had some detailed questions about chicken breeding.  Today's line of questioning started with "If we wanted to have Gloria hatch eggs,  would we take Gloria doen to the allotment to be with Henry, or would we bring Henry to the Garden?"    I explained that we probably wouldn't do either, we might put fertilised eggs fro one of the other Girls under Gloria, or actually we might consider bringing in fertile eggs from outside to refresh the bloodline.  She likes full and honest answers, and she remembers the details.  If we didn't tell her that bringing in outside eggs was a possibility, and then we did this next year,  she'd feel that we hadn't told her the truth. 

So, today's discussion included explaining Henry's relationship to various Allotmenteers, and why there were two girls (his full sisters) that we wouldn't breed with him   

It's not all just "work" though.  We go out sometimes (although she seems just as happy at home, as long as we're 'doing'  something).  We (rarely, special treat) have a water fight.    I bought a pop up pool to use, but the weather has been rubbish,  certain;uy not good enough to warrant ruiing our grass over.

She eats whatever we put in front of her, doesn't always like it but it's not a drama when that happens.  She loves to pick the vegetables from the garden and eat those.

She enjoys being here,  and tells her mum all about everything she's done (however mundane it may seem to us).   It won't be long before coming to us will be a bit of a bind for her,  so I'm happy to enjoy it while we can

Thank you

My lovely step son (R) came yesterday to finish insulating the workshop roof so that it could be made watertight.  He got so far but then it rained, and the rain just didn't  stop.  So, he stayed over.

Today he and my brother finished the work DH was doing when he fell. They also moved the internal wall,  made up the second bench, and tidied up.     The shed is now weatherproof. The roofing shingles and the kitting out can wait until DH's arm is fixed.  DH may even ask for help in completing the shingles.

We're so very lucky, and we really appreciate their help.

Goodnight Poppet

One of our allotment chooks died. 

We found her this morning.  No obvious signs of cause.  She'd not looked right yesterday, I couldn't see anything wrong, she just didn't look right. I thought she might be brewing a softy.  I had given her some Nutridrops, but they didn't work their magic this time.  She was one of our lovely Welsh Blacks,  an Indian Game/Australorp cross.   She was only 3.

We've been lucky that it's been a while since we've had a loss. I've been expecting a couple of the older girls to go, I hadn't expected one of the (relatively) young ones.

Goodnight Poppet.

Procrastination strikes

With DH out of action, I've been busy tring to keep on top of everyday stuff,  and I haven't had time to do anything on my (new to me) multi needle embroidery machine.

I'm guilty of creative avoidance.

I haven't done much sewing (apart from adapting some tee shirts for DH.  And omne jersey tee shirt for me, which turned out to be too clingy for the fabric I'd chosen).

I am trying to clear my cutting table (aka the kitchen table) so I can draft a shorts pattern for DH. I keep getting distracted, although today I woke up deciding I was really really really going to do it (i.e. clear it) today.

I've made a lot of progress.  There's a lot of clearing to do.   I can see the tabletop on about 2/3rds of it now, the other 1/3rd is piled up with stuff which needs putting away.

I am going to do it.

Really.

Still broody. Two broodies.

Gloria has been broody since 18th May, 8 weeks now.  Poppy went broody about a week ago today, and they've been sharing the nest box in the Cube.

Gloria is, at last, considering not being broody any more.   I know this because she now comes out of the Cube at every conceivable excuse.  As soon as she hears me, she comes out to see if I have something worth eating.  And if I do, which I usually do,  she makes those cockerelesque encouraging burbles which mother hens also use to encourage their babies to eat.  I've even seen her pick up a bit of food and drop it, invitingly, next to one of the other girls.

But she then disappears back into the Cube, so she's not finished yet.

I've been enouraging her to practice jumping on to my outstretched arm, falconer style.  She doesn't need the practice, but I want to show the 3 youngsters how its done.   I wish I'd taught them when they were babies.    Progress is slow to non existent.   Sasha,  Appenzeller,  will just about stand on my arm, if I place her there and don't do anything to scare her.   Fay, Fayoumi,  runs away shrieking when I try and pick her up.  Fleur, Marans,  well, she's just too heavy.  I've tried sitting down and then putting her on my arm but she panics.  

I've missed having baby chickens this year, although it's probably been a good thing.

Moving on

The last few days have gone in a bit of a blur.

The first couple of days revolved entirely around helping DH with every task.  Getting a drink, taking tablets, having a shower, getting up, sitting down, eating....    I adapted a second tee shirt,  bought some more bits (Amazon Prime has been fabulous).

As the morphine has worn off, the pain has increased.  I've kept a detailed record of all the medications.

Gradually, DH has been able to do more and more for himself,  and he's been amazing.  Much better than I suspect I would have been.

We've got a routine now for the morning, which includes showering us both, medicating DH and medicating the cats, having breakfast and getting ready for the rest of the day.

We've been twice now to have the wound checked and the dressing changed.  

I saw a self-hoist thing for sale on Gumtree, not too far away. It was a bit of a bargain,  so we decided to get it.  I went out yesterday, calling in at Costco on the way home.  

The hoist is really designed for someone who can use both arms to pull themselves up,  not someone who can only use one arm.  It took some time to try and get the optimum position for it, and we have to have it angled to compensate.  It's hard work for DH, probably harder work than using me to pull against,  but it gives him a bit more independence.

He's gradually become more coherent, and he now seems fairly normal in that regard. .  He's much more mobile (once he's up).     The way he is now is the way I had expected him to be when he was discharged.


We think he has broken a rib,  the pain when he coughs is too intense to just be sore muscles.

A different kind of stress

DH was discharged on Friday.  We had instructions to get his wound looked at on Monday and to come back immediately if there was any bleeding.

I had prepared for DH coming home - or I thought I had.  I'd ordered one of those full arm plastic bags, so he could shower.  We already had a little bed table.  I had made some alterations to an old tee shirt, and was really proud of the results.  I was ready for a bit of hassle.

I was somewhat niaive.   I had imagined that D would come home,  have no use of his arm,  be a bit stiff.  I had not imagined that he would be barely able to put one foot in front of the other,  that he would be away with the fairies,  and that he wouldn't be able to lie down, or sit up,  or anything in between.

DH fell asleep while sitting on the sofa.  Unfortunately, he was holding a glass at the time.   It wasn't a problem.  He went to bed because he was so exhausted.   He couldn't lie down, so I made some sort of arrangement with numerous pillows so he could be in a bit of a half way down position.  

It was 5.15, and I went out to buy some sort of "sippy cup" so he could have it on the bed, and it wouldn't matter if it rolled over.   I decided to go to one of the nearby towns and see if I could get a V pillow or something at the same time.

The local department store was just about still open when I got there.  I raced up the escalators to the homeware department.  Their website had showed they sold V pillows,  but there weren't any to be seen.   I rushed through the shopping centre, googling the various shops to see who was likely to have something.  I passed a Wilko, open until 6pm, so I popped in there, and they had one.  I bought it. 

Boots next, for the sippy cup.   I don't have children, I have no idea about suppy cups.  The choice was overwhelming.  I bought 3 different sorts.

 Next was also supposed to sell such things, and the town had a massive Next which was open until 8pm.   No luck.   TK Max, open til 8,  no luck.  They did, however, have some "box" pillows, so I bought the only two they had.   I looked at the dog beds to see if I could find a beanbag type, but no luck.

On the way back to the car, I passed Hobbycraft, still open.  I went in and bought a massive bag of beanbag beans.

I was very stressed about how we were going to manage, scared that we might do more damage to DH by his not being able to lie as he needed to.

At home, I unpacked everything.   I started to make up the side arm for the bed, and then I realised it just wasn't going to work, even if DH slept on my side of the bed.    DH woke up, and I helped him get up and go to the toilet.  I tried out several combinations of pillows (myself) and found a combo that would provide more support.   DH went back to bed, and seemed marginally more comfortable.

I still wasn't happy.  I started looking online for wedge pillows,  then I remembered that Argos sold disability aids.   I searched the local ones, and found one in another nearby town that had some bits in stock.   They were open until 8.   I ordered online, and got there at 7.50.  

 I put the table in the middle of the bed between us, where he could reach it.  I put a sippy cup of water on it, and the control to the ceiling fan.   I asked DH to wake me whenever he needed anything, and he had to do that because he wasn't able to sit himself up.

It was a long night. 

Kindness

People have been very kind. 

Next door neighbour made sure I had her number when I got in to the ambulance, and she offered to come and get me from the hospital.

My next-door-but-one neighbour knocked this morning.  He'd just heard about DH (he was on his own shed roof, and our in between neighbour told him to be careful). 

Another friend emailed to say that they realised it would be difficult for DH in the car on the way home,  and he asked if he could drive me to the hispital to collect DH as he had a roomier car.

My brother has been fab.  As well as driving to the hospital to be with me and to bring me home, he offered to take me on Monday.  I declined. I don't mind the journey now that I know DH will be OK.  He's working at the mo (he's retired, and works when he can get jobs), otherwise he'd here each day to check I'm OK.  He's also planning to take me to collect DH, and he's planning to complete the work on the workshop that DH can't do.

DH's two best friends are visiting him.  One has been away working, only got back yesterday, so today will be the first opportunity.   The other is also going today,  plans to go yesterday were changed because of the op.

DH's eldest son has been to visit him twice.   Daughter had planned to come, but one of te DGC developed appendicitis and had to have an appendectomy.   Other son has offered to finish the roof when DH is out of hospital.

Everyone wants to help, we're so very lucky.




We're so very lucky.

Getting back on track

No food fails today.  although I was very tempted to buy chocolate from the vending machine at the hospital.   I was going to get a bag of something to eat on my way home,  but the vending machines were by reception, and reception had closed - and access was locked - by the time I left.   I was very tempted to stop at the services on the way home,  but I was making good time and I just wanted to get home.

At home,  I resisted temptation to snack,  and waited impatiently for an hour and a quarter for my baked potatoes to cook.  For the first hour, I did a mixture of clearing up (including changing the cat litter)  and looking for a new tablet for DH.

I did end up wating some of my hastily made tuna/mayo while I was waiting the last 15 minutes,  but I'd have eaten it with my potatoes anyway. That means it doesn't count as a fail.

The potatoes were OK.  They skins would have been better if I'd been patient for another 15 minutes, but I wasn't and they weren't. I still ate them.

Onward and onward.

Sabotage

I've been doing well with the Kefir, and was surprised to find that I'd lost 5.5kg in the last 3 weeks.  My clothes don't particularly feel looser,  and I know that my weight fluctuates by 3kg anyway when it's hot,  but 5.5kg indicates a definite improvement.

And then yesterday I sabotaged it all, by buying a pack of M&S currant buns and eating them one after the other, on the way home from visiting DH in hospital.  When I got home, I also chomped part of a family bag of vile crisps, until common sense made me throw the rest of the bag in the dustbin.  At least I managed to resist buying a box of Maltesers (which I would have eaten until the box was empty, or I was sick, whichever came first). 

It started by me buying a vaguely sugary drink because I was thirsty and needed an energy boost.  It was 1 am the day before.   This started a sugar craving.  I tried all day to resist.  I stopped to buy petrol. The attached shop was M&S and  I needed to buy some butter (we've run out of home made, and it's too hot to make more). So, I bought that, and some potatoes to bake for my dinner,  and then I saw the buns and couldn't didn't resist.

The first bun was small polite nibbles, and would have been excusable, acceptable, forgivable.   The other three were angry bites,  controlled 'loss of control' sabotage.

I'm tired and feeling a little fragile, and a little sorry for myself.  I'm also annoyed with myself for feeling this way, when actually I should be feeling happy that things aren't a great deal worse, they so easily could have been.


Lots of people are dealing with much worse stuff. 

I need to get a grip.

Kefir revisited

Im still carrying on with the goats milk Kefir.  I think today is day 15.

I need to take a photo of my fizzog and compare the rosacea now to the rosacea before I started.
 
I still wince at drinking the stuff, but it no longer makes me retch,  and the thought of it doesn't make me retch.  I'm able to drink it fairly quickly, with little or no procrastinating.

If I do as directed and drink the Kefir on an empty stomach and wait a while before I eat,  then it really gets to work.    It's less obvious if I take it after I've had my breakfast (even if I wait until lunchtime and have it for lunch).

The Kefir lotion  is working wonders on my poor sore feet. 

I'm having goats milk for my lattes.

I haven't noticed a dramatic change in my bloating, so it may well be that it's not cows milk (or the A1 protein in cows milk) that it causing a problem.    I eat a lot of bread, so I guess that could be the cause.       The reality is, it's probably just "sugar belly".   When I eat refined sugar (if I have sweets, for example, or ice cream) then my belly definitely swells up.  I'm short waisted,  so there aren't many places for this to go, hence the sugar belly.

I've decided to continue with a second batch of Kefir.   Chuckling Goat recommends a 9 week course (which is 3 batches) and, so far, I'm happy to carry on with that.

Skirting around things

I made  another skirt. Just a simple maxi skirt, no shape,  yogaband for the waist.     Still had a few sewing glitches,  that was down to my lack of ability.  Skirt was still perfectly wearable.  Not sure how it'll stand up to the washing machine.

And I've nearly finished yet another maxi skirt as well.  It's the hot weather. It's so much more comfortable than trousers,  and I don't have to expose my legs.

 It's just a trapezium shape,   front and back are identical,  each cut on the fold.  Sew up one side.  Sew open a slit (to prevent me tripping over) on the other side, then sew the rest of that side up.  Attach a yoga waistband. Hem.  Finished.     When I made my first successful (wearable despite the flaws) maxi skirt last year, I  made a cardboard template of the pattern.  Now I just put the pattern on my washed, pressed and folded fabric, and cut it out.  Transfer the markings to match the sides up and to tell me where to put the top of the slit,  and away I go.

It's entirely possible I will have a whole wardrobe of these before the summer is over, although it is my intention to find a summer dress style that suits me.  I've had a relapse and have bought a big bundle of cotton fabric.   I had been resisiting buying any because I already have lots. (It's just every time I go to use some I think, "Oh but I was thinking I'd make a dress out of that").

My attempt to create an empire line blueprint is hanging, unfinished, over the back of a chair.   A floaty peasant style blouse is lying on the spare bed, waiting for me to bind the neck.    Both UFOs (UnFinished Objects) require more thinking and effort than I'm prepared to expend at the mo.

My sewing machine, coverstitch, and overlocker have all been working,  and I love each of them.

All I need now is my new (to me) embroidery machine.

More news on that, maybe, at the weekend.

Hens and sheds

Today I decided to shut Gloria out of the nest box.  She hasn't taken it well.

She's been broody since about the 18th May, 6 weeks today.  She's been a trooper,  and I wish we'd been in a position to give her some eggs to hatch.   She's not shown any sign of coming off the nest of her own volition, so I've taken some action.

The three youngsters have now ALL taken to laying in one of the stand-alone nest boxes, down on the run floor.    We're back to nest box squabbles, because they all want the same nest box.    Honestly, we have 2 cubes (althoughj 1 of them was occupied by Gloria,  but Poppy manages to lay her egg each day) which each have HUGE nestboxes; and we have two roomy standalone nest boxes.  And they all HAVE to use the same ones.

With the oppressive hot weather, earlier in the week we completely rearranged their free range area, so that they could have the back fence and the fruit cage.  The back fence has hedging all along, and this is cool and pleasant even on the fiercest of days.  

This meant that their usual area, including the pampas,  gets a bit of a rest.

It was helpful because the material for DH's workshop arrived, and that took up most of the garden.

He's been building it, single handedly,  for several days now.  It's double walled and insulated, the floor is insulated etc etc, so it's a slow process.   He used that hexagonal plastic stuff for the base, filled with pea shingle.  Superb.  He build the previous shed on that,  and it worked really well, and we could see how well it worked when we (well, he)  removed the old shed. 

Minor arguments along the way "It's too small, why didn't you get a size bigger?" (Me).    And various other squabbles about what was going in there, where it was going, and why it wouldn't work.  It'll get sorted in the end.  

It looks lovely.

Bother

It's so hot and airless, I'm struggling to get the enthusiasm to do anything.

Three days ago, I put on a me-made maxi skirt. That's how hot it is (it takes a lot of heat for me to not wear trousers).   Actually, it was sooo comfortable, I think I might have to run up some more.

DH commented on how pretty it was, and asked if I made it myself.  Yesterday I wore it again, with a different coloured/style top.   DH asked if that was another dress I'd made.      To be fair, the skirt is multicoloured (really lovely fabric),  and the colours that "pop out" really are affected by the colour of the top I wear.

Today I wore another one, with a different colour/style top.  This top, not home made,  was a lovely colour, but was far too baggy and sack like.  It occurred to me that if I just turned up the hem (by about 8 inches) it wouldn't look so frumpy.   So, I did. 

I coverstitched it, and it looked great.  I then trimmed it (which I should, of course, have done first).   And of course I managed to cut a hole in it.   Bother.

It's at the back.  It's not particularly noticeable.  It'll last until I take it off tonight to wash it (when it will most likely fall apart).

Apart from that,  I was really pleased that my on-the-hoof adapation went well.

In other news,  I've sewn up the top from yesterday.  I need to put binding on the neck,  and then hem the sleeves and the hem.  It's too hot to even think about doing that now. 

Maybe tomorrow.

Progress, of sorts

I'm pleased to be able to report sort of progress on several fronts.

Firstly, I no longer heave at the thought of drinking goats milk kefir.   I am still struggling with the taste when I'm actually drinking it.  I'm confident that this will get better as the days go by.

Secondly, I finally opened, washed, hen carefully folded and labelled  all the piles of fabric bought when I had a moment of weakness and procrastination.

And thirdly, I cleared enough space so I could cut out the front of a new blouse pattern I'd started working on some time ago (before my sewjo went on holiday).  I even tried to think about pattern placement, as the fabric has bands of colour.

It's a bit of a shame that I realised part way through cutting out, that I'd only actually adapted the neckline and shoulders.  I hadn't got round to adapting the side or the length.   It was remarkably good fortune that I realised this when I was half way through cuttind the side.    I made an emergency adaptation (which, on reflection, may tutn our to be a bit of a mistake), and carried on with the cutting.

I then realised that I hadn't done a matching back pattern,  so I worked that out the adaptations required to my Blueprint so that it matched the new front,  drafted it and... remembered to think about pattern placement. It's not exactly pattern matching, but I do need to try and get it right. ish.

This morning, I sewed carefully stay stitched the armholes and neckline (not that long ago, I'd never heard of stay stitching), as the fabric is going to be a bit of a sod to sew.    I then did my gathering stitches, marvelling that  that bit of the process is almost becoming second nature to me now.   I sewed the sholders together,  and then I needed the sleevies.

I hadn't forgotten the sleeves. I just wanted to try something a bit more flouncy than previously.  This was going to require more pattern adaptations, and I needed a fresh head to do it well. 

And progress there too. Well, possibly.  I'm going to celebrate now, even though I haven't actually cut them out yet.   If it doesn't work, well,  I won't feel like celebrating later.  And if it does, I can celebrate again.

I thought about what I might need to do to achieve this, and traced off a copy of my standard sleeve.     The cap bit has to stay the same (to fit into the armhole of the top), it's the rest of the sleevie that needs flouncing.  I could see I needed to slash and spread the pattern.  I could even see how much.     In the end, I search the SFDLearningCenter to find what I needed, and the index told me which book and what page. 

I followed the instructions, even adapting them to get the size I wanted.  I ended up with a sleeve that looks like it might work.     I just need to get round to cutting out in fabric now.

 I'm going to wait for a bit though.  Just in case it's not right.  I'm going to enjoy the "I did it!" moment for just a little bit longer, first.

Goats Milk Kefir continues

This morning, once again,  I could not bring myself to drink the Kefir first thing.

I was getting a bit annoyed with myself.  It's not horrible, it just tastes like goats cheese.  I used to like goats cheese, so I should be able to get over this.

This morning I gave myself a choice. Either drink the Kefir first thing, or try goats milk in my morning latte.       I tried goats milk in my latte.    I made one for myself first, before making one for DH.  It was OK.  I don't think I would have guessed it was goats milk.     I made one for DH - he didn't notice.

Later, we were having a second coffee and he saw me filling up the milk thing with goats milk.
 "I don't want goats milk in my coffee"  
"Why?"
"Because I don't"
"You had goats milk earlier"
"Did I?"
"Yes"
"Oh"

So we had goats milk in the coffee.   That's one step forward.

It got to 4pm and I still hadn't had my Kefir.  At 4pm, I MADE myself pour a glass, and I tried to gul some of it down.  Same problem as before.    I mixed some vanilla extract in, and that didn't really help any more than the banana had done previously.

I'm hoping I can overcome this because, of course, it's only going to get stronger (="worse") as the days tick by.    

I know when I've tried to make myself get over distaste of foods before, it's sometimes taken 5 or 6 attempts to eat something before my tastebuds have acclimatised.     There have been foods (liver, roasted beetroot) where I've never got over my repulsion.

I hope this isn't one of those.

Goats Milk Kefir

The mere smell of goats cheese makes me retch.

A long time ago, I really liked the stuff.  Then I had a very severe case of food poisoning (several days in bed with joints so painful I thought I must surely be dying), and goats cheese was the culprit.  Since then.... well... I can't stand the stuff.

 I love milk.    Milk, however, doesn't always agree with me, and makes me bloated.   A2 milk works reasonably well, but I can only get that when I go to certain supermarkets, or when Ocado delivers.      Raw milk is also great,  but that involves a trip to far distant farmers markets (I tried having it delivered. It might be OK in the winter, but not in the spring/summer/autumn!).

I drink a lot of home fermented kefir, made using cows milk, and this also helps my bloating problem.   I don't like my Kefir fizzy, though, nor strong tasting, so I keep it in the fride to slow it down.    I also am a bit erratic in drinking it.

I have water kefir, which I quite like, but that hasn't really helped with the bloating problem.

I'd been looking at Chuckling Goat's creams. Not eating creams,  creams for the skin.   I bought some, and I've been using it on my face to see if it helps with my Rosacea. A bit.  But it hasn't cured it.    Extending my use of it, however,  did improve the skin on my legs,  and stopped a neck-rash outbreak in its tracks.  Because of that,  I looked more closely at their goats milk kefir, and the claims they made for it.

In the end, I took the plunge and ordered a 3 week course (I'll need 9 weeks to clear my rosacea).   In anticipation, I also bought some fresh goats milk from the supermarket.  It sat for 2 days in the fridge, before I could make myself open it and taste it.     I remembered trying goats milk when I was a kid (pun intended),  and it was vile.

Well, I opened it, and poured some in a glass.  It was very, very white.  Like emulsion paint.  It didn't smell, whch was a good thing.    It tasted...OK.     I think I could drink it.  I need to try it in our morning latte and see what happens.   The carton I bought will probably go off before I make myself do that.    I've seen that my milkman also delivers fresh goats milk, so I'm going to add that to my order.

The Kefir arrived.   It didn't stink as I expected (again remembering the goats milk as a child).    I pored some out.  170ml is quite a lot actually.    I started to drink it.  It reminded me of... of.... cheesey feet.   And then I realised what it really tasted like:  fizzy, runny, goats cheese.

I gagged.   I continued.  Everntually, it was all gone.  The book suggested blending with a banana (and adding stevia if needed).  I didn't reallhy want to do this, I wanted to see if I could acclimate myself.


Day 2,  it wasn't so bad to drink.  I downed half the glass in one go.  It wasn't great, but it was OK. 
During Day 2, it started to work.

Firstly, I had lots of digestive noises.  And then lots of wind.  And then, well, it was obviously clearing out my stomach contents.  In the evening, I felt a little nauseous.   I knew from the book that this was normal, it was just the kefir doing it's spring cleaning of my gut.


This morning, I just could not bring myself to drink it.  I think it as because I'd felt a little sick last night, that I was rassociating the taste of goats cheese with being so very ill.   It got to 2pm today, and I still hadn't drunk my dose.   

I gave in, and blended it with a banana.  As I was blending it, I realised that it probably wasn't a great idea (in my case) to do this. I had a strong suspicion that the drink was bow going to just taste like fizzy banana-ey goats cheese.    And it did.  It was also very very sweet.   Still, I managed to swallow it.

The book advises what foods should be avoided during the "detox" phase.   Hmm.   I think I'm probably going to ignore most of that.   (Avoid cow dairy products, bread, rice, pasta, sugar).  


I need to take some photos of my rosacea so I can check progress.

Out of control

I've been realy really good at not buying fabric for weeks now.   I don't have space to store any more,  and I decided I'd wait until I'd made a few more items and cleared some space before I indulged.

Each time I'm tempted,  I bookmark the piece, and then I just leave it alone.   I think about what I'd actually make with it.   I think about my "to make" list and see if the fabric that tempts me would help.

Yesterday, I cracked.

It started because a bag I made for horse-mad Small Person has, apparently, come apart.  She phoned me from a lake somewhere where she was fishing with her dad (my cousin) to let me know.  I don't have any more horsey fabric, so I was looking for something suitable.     I bought some.  And I bought a small piece of sheep fabric from the same seller.


It turned out to be a gateway purchase.

Around the same time, one of my favourite sellers of inexpensive fabric (Tilly Bee) posted some tee shirting fabric in a neutral colour at a bargain price. I bought 4 metres, thinking I could use it to make a top for me,  try a top for Small Person which I could embroider with a fab horse design,  and make a tee shirt for DH.  (I'm not planning on us all wearing the items at the same time).

I haven't bought fabric from Tilly Bee for a while, but I have been bookmarking quite a few.    I was already going to be paying for postage, so I thought I might as well get a (limited) amount of a few other ones I'd had my eye on.

In the scheme of things (the number of  fabrics I had bookmarked),  I didn't buy much.   But I did buy quite a bit.  I can see it's going to end up in yet another box in my "sewing room".

On the plus side, I managed to regain control of myself before I purchased from another seller.   They were selling some lovely lovely black and white cotton fabric that I would love to make into tops.    But I have a lot of cotton fabric that I wanted to make into tops, and I haven't.  Yet.

Perhaps this will spur me on?

Maybe.

A blast from the past (April 2004 to be exact)

I do a major backup of my PC to an exernal hard drive every few of months, with a backup to a NAS drive more frequently. (NAS is our home network storage).      Every year or so, I have a mammoth clear out to remove redundant pictures, files, etc.

Today I was doing a bit of a clear out which strayed in to me having a quick peek at what was on the NAS drive.  I found some long-deleted web pages, where I'd been sharing some of the emails I'd sent.

This one was about our ancient cat, Maddie. Att eh time of wrtiting the original, Maddie was an only-cat.  She was old, a bit arthritic.  and thoroughly spoilt.  She would jump up on your lap before your bottom hit the seat.  She used to come away on holiday with us.

This particular letter was written to my husband, who was away on business,  and describes a very surreal night.


19th April 2004
Hi Geoff
I thought you might like to hear about some of the adventures your cat and I had last night.
She came up to bed with me, slept on your side.  In the middle of the night I woke up because she had moved and was standing ON MY HEAD.  Although I was groggy with sleep, I moved my head to push her off, and then she started kneading my hair. This was really painful, and a bit scary as I wondered where it was leading (did I feel like a litter tray?) , and I moved my head so she was only kneading the hair on the pillow. Finally she sat part on and part off my head, but I was too tired to care.
Sometime later...maybe minutes, maybe hours,  I woke up because she stood up and turned round, and then started again. Same rigamarole as before.
Later still, she jumped off the bed.
Even later, I heard her jump on to the windowsill. As I lay there, half asleep,  thinking "Maddie is on the windowsill", I suddenly realised "It's not Maddie!. She can't get up there!" .  I then remembered that I had locked the catflap so that  cats can get in but not out. I forced myself to wake up, turned on the light and stared at the black cat on the windowsill. It was a black cat - so it must be Maddie.
I started to doze again when I heard her jump down from the windowsill and,a few minutes, later jump up again. Then I heard her bell.  Then I realised that Maddie doesn't have a bell.  I turned on the light, looked at Maddie on the windowsill, saw that she had a belled collar, and leapt out of need to put on my dressing gown.  "Maddie" jumped off the windowsill and walked under the bed.
Then Maddie walked in the bedroom.  Hissed and spat at "Maddie" under the bed.  In a bit of a daze, I picked up the real Maddie and put her on the bed... I couldn't face a catfight.  Then I got down, pulled the boxes out from under the bed and got hold of the other "Maddie" by the collar and scruff, and dragged her out.   It was a young "Maddie". Black, same face, different body.  The collar told me that her name (his name?) was Salem, and lived at 20 Straight Road.  Holding Salem by the scruff I carried him/her downstairs.
I wasn't really sure what to do.  S/he looked very perturbed, and I couldn't face doing anything horrible.  So with Salem/"Maddie" in one hand I found the front door keys, unlocked and opened the door, and then chucked the cat out.  S/he just sat in the driveway looking sheepish. (If a cat can look sheepish)
As I shut the front door, I heard the catflap rattle.  I went into the kitchen, turned on the light, opened the door... nothing. Then I heard this terrible caterwauling in the utility room.  I walked in, and there, crouched on op of your jacket, was another black cat!  Maddie must have been having some sort of black cat convention or something!. 

 I grabbed this cat by the collar and scruff. No nametag, but a very soft purple collar.  It was very frightened,  and so I couldn't do anything apart from the same as before.  I marched to the front door, opened it, and ejected the cat.
I went back to bed, it was 5.11 am.  Maddie lay down beside me. Every few minutes we heard something and we both sat up.   In the end, I decided I didn't care right now if more cats were in, they could wait til morning.

Graduation

My lovely step daughter graduated recentlyfrom the OU.

The weather was kind to us.  Ely Cahedral was a marvellous setting. 

So very proud of her.

Small person returns

Small Person had half term, and we volunteered to have her for 3 days.  We were delighted that she also wanted to stay over, so this included an overnight as well.

She rolled up her small sleeves, and jumped in to our day to day routine.  Cleaning out the chooks.   Egg collecting. Filling the feeders.  Filling the wild bird feeders.    Catching chooks for health checks.    Putting out higher fencing to try and prevent the Poppy and Fay getting out.     Returing Poppy and Fay each time they escaped.  Everything in her stride.

I've lost track of what else we did.  The weather was good, so the water pistols came out.    We also did a potters wheel taster session at the wonderful Hands On Art place.    Oh, and I made her a pair of leggings. They were made from unsuitable fabric, so they probably won't last more than a couple of washes - but it enabled me to create a pattern,  and I can make some more another time.

We found that one of the old bikes we keep was a good size for her,  so I took her for a bike ride: quiet roads only, and I made her ride on the pavement for part of it.   She doesn't yet have the road sense to be on the road all the time.

Oh, and I know we spent some time trying to work out (hypothetical) relationships with DH's children and grandchildren.   She was delighted to learn that she is "(step) second cousin" to my step daughter (DSD),   and even more delighted to learn that she was "(step) second cousin once removed" to my DSD's daughter.  They hardly ever see each other, but are firm friends when they do


It turned out that her school has a two week half term,  and we were asked if we could "do" Monday and Tuesday this week as well.     We jumped at the chance.   The weather was rubbish, but there was still lots to do.   She loved going to see the allotment chooks, despite the rain.    This time she helped us empty DH's shed, and I showed her how to use a labelling machine. Then I found lots of things for her to label.

She's always full of energy, enthusiasm and fun.  She isn't a fussy eater,  and she asks  questions ALL THE TIME.   She asks me questions about anything and everything, and it's an interesting window on what goes on inside her head.   

Second week also included homework,  so we made a string telephone.  This also required her not only to go to the shop (which she loves), but to go to a different shop and have to ask for something!  

I also took the opportunity to send her off with a shopping list when we were in another village,  and that was really good for her too.


She did manage to lock herself in the Girls' run,  which was quite funny. It was perhaps a little unfortunate that I only found out she was locked in the run because her Mum came to collect her,  and I had to go and look for her.  Oops!

Luckily for us, her mum has a sense of humour.   Unfortunately, she did it just before her mum turned up to collect her,  and I hadn't realised that she was stuck in there.

We've volunteered to look after her for some days in the summer hols.