It was zero degrees when I put my toe out the door this morning, and our first serious frost of the season covered the grass. I should have crawled back into bed but the birds were gathering for their breakfast. The galahs and pigeons wait quietly but the magpies seem to feel that if they set up their carolling it will encourage me to hurry up.
It's not just the frost I have to crunch through: at this time of the year the ground is never quite dry. We have clay soil so there are always pools of water in various spots. It's frustrating that I can't do one last mow before we leave, but there's just too much moisture in the grass. We must be mad to consider moving house in the winter.
I've been trying to clear out our little shed and move the junk to Jamie's bigger one. I have a pretty good trailer with a cage but I've made four trips already and there's still more. With the wet ground I haven't been able to drive the car right up to the shed, so I have to ferry all the stuff in the mower trailer to the harder ground where the car is parked. It's double handling and it's not fun.
And it's galling that none of the junk is worth keeping. I have memorabilia collected over years, not only by us but by my parents and Marilyn's, and my aunt and uncle. I have a dozen examples of tapestry completed by my Aunt Mabel, all framed and mounted behind glass. I'll never hang them and they will not be valued when we've gone, so why are we holding on to them? There are boxes of old books that Marilyn and I had as children, videos we thought we might watch again some day, souvenir programs from events we enjoyed, dozens of cassettes of long-retired or dead musicians, knick-knacks which came from the two families' china cabinets, ornaments which we one thought beautiful.
We've made a resolution: we haven't the time now but, when everything is in Jamie's shed, and we've settled into the new house, we'll have a comprehensive cleaning-out.
On a more positive not: we have been watching an outstanding TV program called The English Game, about the early days of the FA Cup in England. I had assumed Marilyn wouldn't be interested and was watching it surreptitiously but she wandered in part way through Episode 2, became enthralled and insisted I go back and start the whole thing again. It was written by Julian Fellowes who did Downton Abbey so it is more a social history than a bald documentary. It's outstanding and I hope more people watch it. I found it on Netflix.
It's not just the frost I have to crunch through: at this time of the year the ground is never quite dry. We have clay soil so there are always pools of water in various spots. It's frustrating that I can't do one last mow before we leave, but there's just too much moisture in the grass. We must be mad to consider moving house in the winter.
I've been trying to clear out our little shed and move the junk to Jamie's bigger one. I have a pretty good trailer with a cage but I've made four trips already and there's still more. With the wet ground I haven't been able to drive the car right up to the shed, so I have to ferry all the stuff in the mower trailer to the harder ground where the car is parked. It's double handling and it's not fun.
And it's galling that none of the junk is worth keeping. I have memorabilia collected over years, not only by us but by my parents and Marilyn's, and my aunt and uncle. I have a dozen examples of tapestry completed by my Aunt Mabel, all framed and mounted behind glass. I'll never hang them and they will not be valued when we've gone, so why are we holding on to them? There are boxes of old books that Marilyn and I had as children, videos we thought we might watch again some day, souvenir programs from events we enjoyed, dozens of cassettes of long-retired or dead musicians, knick-knacks which came from the two families' china cabinets, ornaments which we one thought beautiful.
We've made a resolution: we haven't the time now but, when everything is in Jamie's shed, and we've settled into the new house, we'll have a comprehensive cleaning-out.
On a more positive not: we have been watching an outstanding TV program called The English Game, about the early days of the FA Cup in England. I had assumed Marilyn wouldn't be interested and was watching it surreptitiously but she wandered in part way through Episode 2, became enthralled and insisted I go back and start the whole thing again. It was written by Julian Fellowes who did Downton Abbey so it is more a social history than a bald documentary. It's outstanding and I hope more people watch it. I found it on Netflix.
Great Show. I've just finished it and wanted to watch more. By the way last Saturday was the 30th of May not Saturday the 1st June
ReplyDeleteThanks for the reminder that I'm losing track of which day of the week it is. By the way, can you please identify yourself.
ReplyDeleteIt's Sandy... Don't know why it didn't identify me
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