A rainy day project/cane eye protectors/

aluminium tea light holder makeover ... They do spin in the wind, well not all of them, so I'm not quite ready for wowing kinetic structures BUT watch this space!!! There IS a video .. honest!. :- ))))) you can ask Jorgiesmum :- ) I needed canes to support the Alliums which have yet to open ... I'm quite excited as I only planted them last Autumn. I mixed them up, but a few were a little floppy. Eureka moment! .. My Blue Peter days were not wasted.

As soon as it's light I'm wide awake .......... nature of the beast. Dad was an early riser, me too. I LOVE the mornings, (that's why I have a power nap around 9pm ish). Only the once though........... so far.

I think I should have thrown the tub of hummus out, but did'nt, I ate the orts for lunch yesterday with a regrettable purchase - puffed rice crackers .. they sound like polystyrene, they look like polystyrene, & taste like ................nothing. Anyway, I had a bit of a dodgy tummy in the night so I was quite pleased to arise at 5.40am. I  flipped through the paper, attempted the crossword, did the word search, grabbed a piece of toast then headed to the allotment, my happy place. Weeded the beetroot, gladioli, broad beans, nipped out the broad bean tips hopefully preventing blackfly. They will be on the menu tomorrow. Planted runner beans to complete a wigwam.Weeded the wild flower border, thinning out the pot marigold. Sat with a coffee, enjoying the solitude. A couple of plot neighbours arrived. We discussed the need to cover spuds etc. before the cold spell forecast. I'll be covering everything tomorrow. Spuds, runner beans, peas, dwarf beans. I'm not taking any chances. Everything is looking so good it would be a shame to lose it. On the way home I fetched the paper. The Saturday market local farm meat trader, was in the town but I only had enough money for the paper.
"I think I might walk up and see what meat he's got for sale, we need a joint for tomorrow"
"The meats not fresh, & expensive"
End of conversation ...............

"Are you going up to see what he's got?"
"Well what are we having?"
"No idea. You want meat for dinner, you find it"

And breathe ................
It's not easy ..... Life up on the plot is so attractive.

I pricked out 48 Sweet William seedlings, 20 Roma tomato seedlings, 20 Honesty, & sowed 2 trays of Sweetcorn 'Mini Pop'. I'm now off to jiggle it all around so that it fits back in the greenhouse. After I've knocked back the loaf I've got proving. Use by date 2018, so I've added an extra sachet of yeast .. Use by date 2018 ...  It's proving .. but proof of the loaf will be in the eating ...

I  love Pam Ayres . & I believe she has tweaked this poem to make it topical, but of course, can't find it when I search so will leave you with the original ...........
They Should Have Asked My Husband
You know, this world is complicated and imperfect and oppressed,
And it’s not hard to feel timid, apprehensive and depressed,
It seems that all around us, tides of questions ebb and flow,
And people want solutions, but they don’t know where to go.
Opinions abound but who is wrong and who is right?
People need a prophet, a diffuser of the light,
Someone they can turn to as the crises rage and swirl,
Someone with the remedy, the wisdom, the pearl…
* Well they should have asked my husband, he’s a man who likes his say,
With his thoughts on immigration, teenage mums, Theresa May,
The future of the monarchy, the latest Brexit shocks,
The wait for hip replacements, and the rubbish on the box.
Yes, they should have asked my husband, he can sort out any mess,
He can rejuvenate the railways, he can cure the NHS,
So any little niggle, anything you want to know,
Just run it past my husband, wind him up and let him go.
Congestion on the motorways, free holidays for thugs,
The damage to the ozone layer, refugees, drugs,
These may defeat the brain of any politician bloke,
But present it to my husband, he will solve it at a stroke.
He’ll clarify the situation, he will make it crystal clear,
You’ll feel the glazing of your eyeballs and the bending of your ear,
You may lose the will to live, you may feel your shoulders slump,
When he talks about the President, Mr. Donald Trump. *
Upon these areas he brings his intellect to shine,
In a great compelling voice that’s twice as loud as yours or mine,
I often wonder what it must be like to be so strong,
Infallible, articulate, self-confident and wrong.
When it comes to tolerance, he hasn’t got a lot,
Joy riders should be guillotined, and muggers should be shot,
The sound of his own voice becomes like music to his ears,
And he hasn’t got an inkling that he’s boring us to tears.
My friends don’t call so often, they have busy lives I know,
But it’s not every day you want to hear a windbag suck and blow,
Google? Safari? On them we never call,
Why bother with computers…when my husband knows it all.

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