Archive for September, 2008

Non-stop weekend

Sunday, September 14th, 2008

The unseasonably fine weather over the last two days has helped us enjoy a busy, but relaxed weekend. It all started on Friday night, when we went to Mark T’s to watch the 1981 Eurovision Song Contest. We giggled at the fashions, gawped in horror at the temperamental scoreboard that kept dropping points, and the hopeless presenter, who appeared to have been one of the TV company’s secretaries by day. (In case you were wondering, our favourites were Belgium, Denmark, and Germany. Bucks Fizz would have come higher in our list had their musical arrangement been better, though their victory was the reason why we were watching the show.) Much fun.

Saturday saw me ride the train back to Ipswich to fetch the tickets for Sunday’s Saint Etienne show in London, and upon arriving home, do the weekly clean chicken clean out. (In other chicken news, they’re still laying. We found two eggs today, suggesting that either Margot or Gerry has joined Barbara, and started to lay, too. One of the eggs was a little darker and was covered in faint brown speckles, which we think may belong to Margot. She is a darker hen you see, and with darker ears than Gerry, who we expect to pop out lighter, almost white eggs.)

Elsewhere in the garden, Nik cleared the plot ready for the onset of winter, collecting 4kg of runner beans in the process. The rest of the summer-like warm afternoon was spent in an inner tube-mending, cycling, milkshake and coffee-drinking blur, before we headed out to the station to hop on a train in order to celebrate Mark P’s birthday in Ingatestone. Once there, we enjoyed a delicious, if noisy, curry.

And today has been both equally busy, but relaxing. An early alarm woke us in time for breakfast in Galleywood, after which I enjoyed tea and cake with a friend at Hylands House (while much hedgerow brambling was being done elsewhere). Arriving home just after lunch, but in time for a couple of computery jobs – while much crab apple jelly-making was going on downstairs – it was soon time for us to pack our bags this afternoon and head out for our night in London.

We don’t really know why the last two days have been as relaxing as they have been action-packed, but we’re not complaining. At least non-stop weekends mean there’s no time for being bored.

Another day, another egg…

Friday, September 12th, 2008

Chu(ck)dunnit? The second egg: did Barbara lay it?
Chu(ck)dunnit? The second egg: did Barbara lay it?

She must have been listening to our egg-stra (I will run out of these egg-related puns, I promise) special requests after her first egg yesterday, because as I arrived home tonight, there was egg number two. Sitting neatly in the nesting box of the Eglu, and covered with a sprinkling of sawdust, we think it’s Barbara’s. But as no-one was around when it popped out, maybe Gerry or Margot have been busy today…

Bound for an egg, or egg-bound?

Thursday, September 11th, 2008

Barely heavy enough to weigh, Barbara has beaten Margot and Gerry in the race to lay the first egg
Barbara has beaten Margot and Gerry in the race to lay the first egg

No prizes for guessing which it was. We thought we may have been bound for our first egg for a few days now, as Barbara has been acting very strangely. She’s been in and out of the Eglu in daylight, jumping around the run and talking a different kind of chicken language to what we’re used to.

And this morning, just after I’d gone to work leaving Nik at home, out it popped. And there was us thinking that Margot may have been the first to hatch an egg, as she was acting even more oddly than Barbara, clucking loudly and going up the ladder to the coop more often than is normal.

Gerry’s still showing no sign of anything, and she still has her cold, which started a couple of weeks ago. Still sneezing the tiniest sneeze, they are at least less frequent than they were. We keep adding citricidal to the laying ladies’ water, in the hope that it will give them a tonic pick-me-up. Who knows? We like to think it’s doing something.

Maybe Barbara’s egg-sploits will spur her and Margot into egg-laying action now. They have a lot to live up to.

It’s all very egg-citing.

Word of the day: pedunculated

Tuesday, September 9th, 2008

Fresh from our weekend jaunt up the east coast, here’s a word from the James Herriot All Things Wise and Wonderful audiobook, which was playing in the car. As you would expect, being in a medical context, the meaning is a little unsavoury.

pe-dun-cu-late
adj. Having or supported on a peduncle.

Source: dictionary.com

Family fortunes

Sunday, September 7th, 2008

We’ve spent the last two days in Suffolk for an Ipswich-based weekend. It’s something which hasn’t happened for a while, maybe for six weeks or more. But, the flat needed a visit, and as family members from afar were stopping by at mums, they were all the excuses we needed.

We buzzed up to Lowestoft at Saturday lunchtime, where we found the A12 steadily moving, and pleasantly free of traffic, which doesn’t happen often. Our journey was cut by at least 15 minutes, and we arrived stress-free and relaxed. We had broken it, though, as we’d stopped at the picturesque coastal village of Waldringfield, on the banks of the River Deben to search out some geocache treasure.

(A travel bug we’d planted at Lizard Point in Cornwall and which was due to finish its journey eastwards at Lowestoft was recorded online as being here, and we thought it right to move it to its ending place as we’d put it on its route there this time last year. But, more treasure seekers had beaten us to it, and had moved it on, but not logged their move online, so we left empty-handed.)

Rain of a spit-spot nature stopped us from walking on Lowestoft’s golden sands, but that was of little consequence; upon arrival at mum’s the kitchen was a flurry of activity, with pizzas, salads, and quiches all bustling for attention on the dining table, There were to be eight of us for a late lunch, and by the quantity of food that had been prepared, there was little chance of any of us going hungry.

Sandie, Doug, Kevin and Janice from Lincolnshire and London duly arrived en route from Thetford, and we all tucked in to the feast spread in front of us, quickly speeding onto dessert, followed by copious amounts of tea, and cards. To a newcomer, Blob, can be hard to grasp, but by the end of it, even Kevin had managed to get a handle on how to play, and soon left me trailing, finishing with what must be my lowest-ever score.

If Blob is difficult, Donkey is the polar opposite. Starting with one card and shifting one around to the player on the left to collect four cards of the same value, it’s fast and frenetic, unless you get one slow player building up cards at one end of the table, which in turn holds up everyone else. Once a collection of four with the same value in different suits has been reached, the winning player places their cards face down on the table, and waits for the other players to follow suit. The last player to do so loses a life, and after six, becomes the ‘Donkey’.

For such a quiet end to a hand, it’s usually quite loud, but today was plain raucous, as spoons were added to the table (one less than the number of players), to make it easier to spot the one player who had collected their same four cards. There was clattering, shouting, grabbing, sliding on the floor, and lots of laughter. In the end, a standoff between Bart and Janice made Bart the winner, but he took no spoils.

A Saturday of family fun then, and one which asks the question, why don’t cousins in all families get seen or pay a visit more often?