At last! The herb table I made yonks ago now has herbs in it. Today we went up to the garden centre (the one that Alan used to visit all the time, right next to Birdworld) to buy another compost bin, some seeds so Mirinda can pretend to be a gardener again this year and some herbs and compost for the herb table.

And we actually managed to get all of it! Usually we’ll wind up without one or two things we’d wanted plus a few we didn’t plan on buying. But today the expedition was a success.

After hauling it all home, I left Mirinda to scrub about in the bed pulling out weeds and generally cleaning it up while I built the compost bin then started on the herb table. It didn’t take long.

This is what (& where) I planted:

What herbs are where

The alpine and the pinks were NOT my idea. Apparently they’ll look nice. I’m not convinced.

The mug rest is a brick. This is Geoff Hamilton’s idea. It is so you can rest your mug somewhere when you go out to stand and look down the length of your garden, admiring it. Geoff designed the herb table.

So, I made a mug of coffee, rested it on my mug rest and admired the work I had done. And all was well.

Herb Table

Chelsea have had a bad week. That’s why I’m not talking about them.

UsinUk fans mayn’t be aware that every fortnight I attend a guitar lesson, and have been doing so for the last two years. I am no good at all, but that is no reflection on my teacher who is fab. David is a wonderful player and a great teacher, and one of the least materialistic and happiest people I know.

The classes are held at Hindhead music school which is more or less in Haslemere. So on Saturday mornings I set off at about 9.15 for the 12 mile drive through South Farnham, past Frensham ponds and the heathland, over the A3 and down into Haslemere in time for my 10am class. The music school is set in an old rambling house, with the many rooms converted into teaching rooms. It is shabby and comfortable, with lots of people of all ages taking classes and the sound of trumpets and guitars mixing with the chatter of obsessive parents.

Now some of the more canny of you may be wondering why I leave at 9.15 to go only 12 miles. It is not just the slow English roads – I deliberately arrive with 15 minutes to spare as there is a little tuck shop in the kitchen, and a lovely lady called Nina who makes an extraordinary array of cakes every Saturday. I like to have a cup of tea and a piece of Nina’s chocolate cake. This is the best chocolate cake in Surrey, not too rich, lots of icing and a Malteser on top. It reminds me of the chocolate cake we used to buy for my birthday from Carlingford Court (once I grew out of the ice cream cake phase). There is a cheerful room to sit in – with a cathedral ceiling, big windows, piles of magazines and about half a dozen tables and chairs. This is where parents and students wait between classes.

My class lasts an hour and I enjoy it a great deal. David has quite cheerfully adapted to the sort of music I want to learn – apparently I am unique and none of his other students do the sort of music I like. (Which is traditional folk mostly from an obscure guitarist called Mike Raven). I think David rather likes listening to different pieces, rather than the inevitable Romansa that every student learns. But although I enjoy my lesson I also enjoy the experience – including the chocolate cake.

So imagine my dismay when Nina told me this weekend that she is retiring and won’t be running the tuck shop anymore! She assured me someone else would be taking it on – but she won’t be making the cakes.

“But that’s the best chocolate cake in the UK!” I objected, much to her delight .

She promised to give the new person her recipes – but sadly she can’t force them to actually make the cakes. I am so glad I wasn’t running late yesterday or I would have missed my very last opportunity for Nina’s chocolate cake.

No-one wants the pouffe! Not one enquiry. Nothing. Nada. I am very, very upset.

We watched an excellent movie tonight. District 9, it is called. It’s a South African film. It was produced by Peter (Lord of the Rings) Jackson. Very exciting with a wonderful leading character who was totally believable.

I was thinking about greetings today as I walked into Farnham. There are many types. From the large, jolly-happy-to-be-alive, ‘GOOD MORNINGs’ to the barely perceptible slight movement of a single eyebrow. The joggers who smile between puffs, the older chaps who smile and tip the peak of their cap.

There’s a guy who walks two dogs every day. Whenever we meet on the path into town, we always mention the weather. Today, after weeks of sun, it was wet when I saw him. Naturally I indicated the rain and said “This is a bit more like it.” He agreed, speculating that it would probably now last until winter.

There’s the big man with the three collies. He brushes them in the park. We used to think the piles of fur we’d see every day were mangled squirrels but it turned out it was the fur taken from this fellow’s brush. He always greets me with a hearty “And how are you, sir?” as if he really cares.

There’s the very short red headed woman who is always nattering away with her mate but manages to interrupt herself as I pass and wish me good whatever time of day it is and a lovely warm smile.

These are, of course, the regulars. There is a plethora of non-regulars I pass. It all makes Farnham a lovely place to live.

Had some spare time this afternoon so I scanned in some pictures. Firstly, there’s our 2001 holiday to Devon which you can see here. Secondly, some more family photos, which can be found here.

I didn’t go to uni today. Naturally Mirinda thought it was because Nicktor and I had over-indulged last night. This is possibly true (the over-indulging bit) but it wasn’t my excuse. Today the class had an exercise to discuss a Danish report into libraries. It has nothing to do with overall marks and I thought my time could be better spent studying at home. Which I did.

The fact that it rained all day was a bonus, really, as I didn’t have to go out in it.

Last night we watched Saw. Nicktor nights are rapidly becoming film nights as we work our way through two (usually) films each week. I’ve never seen Saw and have often wondered what the fuss was about. Now I know. What an excellent twist at the end. And the whole idea is very clever as well. Not a film for the squeamish though as the blood and guts is quite graphic, particularly at the end. Nicktor is now keen to see Saw II. I have to admit to being a bit curious myself.

We then watched The Big Lebowski. A fantastic film. Though I don’t think Nicktor was convinced. He dozed off near the end and when he left this morning, declared that he’d have to watch it again just to find out how it ended.

We drank some beer and some whisky, had sausages and mash, watched the films and were in bed by 11:30. This is bit of a record for a Nicktor night.

Many years ago, when we bought our wonderful lounge suite, included in the cost was the biggest pouffe I’ve ever seen. As we’ve moved, house to house, it has been an almost constant source of annoyance. Where can it go? At Haslemere and here in Farnham, it has lived by and under a window. Primarily because it was the only floor space big enough but also because Day-z would sit on it. That’s become it’s ony use. Actually, that’s not exactly true. Here in Farnham it has a second use. Day-z can get up on the window sill if she uses it to give her a leg up.

It would be fair to say that I actively despise this pouffe. It is very annoying. Pointless. If we lived in a house with a very big living area then maybe it could go somewhere. I’m not sure why though. It’s too big, basically. Yes, you can rest your feet on it but it’s so big, most of the surface of it would be empty. A horse could sit comfortably on it.

Anyway, it is about to leave! I have managed to get rid of it on Freecycle. Actually, I’ve had no offers yet as I’ve only just listed it but my fingers are crossed. My luck with Freecycle is pretty good when it comes to getting rid of stuff I no longer want.

As for Day-z…I’ll build her a ladder.

Your days are numbered, pouffe!

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

Nicktor is coming over tonight. He asked me whether I’ve ever seen The Big Lebowski. I mean. Really? It’s one of my top five favourite films. He SHOULD know that.

When I chose my elective subject late last year, I didn’t bother checking out the timetable. I just went ahead and picked the subject I fancied. In this instance it was ‘Open Source Software’ or OSS, as we call it. It is something that interests me and most of the other choices didn’t. I mean there was no way I was going to do ‘Information Law’, for a start!

So, I chose and went back to writing essays. And then, before starting the second semester, I read the timetable. OSS was scheduled on Wednesday morning. My other classes were two on Monday and one on Friday. What a pain, I thought. Having to go up two days for just the mornings. I considered changing but decided I’d put up with it because of the subject.

In my first class, I sat and wondered why I was there. The lecturer was one I’d not been that keen on last year and the room seemed full of programmers. When it turned out that we would have to be in groups and work together towards presentations, I groaned inwardly. I was sorely tempted to change!

Today, in the same class, I realised how much I’m enjoying OSS. I’m really glad I didn’t change. In fact, it’s my favourite class this semester. The people are generally all nice, we have great class discussions every week. The presentations are fun and our group works together really well (ignoring the one who has done precious little work). The lecturer, while still not what I would consider a great teacher, has managed to create an excellent class. Mirinda was very interested in this as she has to work out feedback and how effective it can be.

After class I walked down to the Gherkin and had a lovely sushi lunch with Mirinda and realised how much I enjoyed that as well. It makes it a lot easier not having her at home if we lunch once a week in the middle. We decided that even when I’ve finished uni classes, I’m still going to come up on Wednesday for lunch. Sort of as a break during my dissertation.

So it was a great day and I feel very lucky and quite hoist. And all the crocuses were out, lining the footpath along Borelli Way. They were so pretty, I took their picture.

Line of crocuses along Borelli Way

Today is the first day I have really felt like spring has arrived. Ok, so far March has been pretty glorious but, even so, today just felt right. And it appears I’m not the only one.

The postman, who has never really spoken to me before, decided today was the right day to chat about how wonderful it was having frosty mornings and no rain. His face was a picture of grinning. He was very chatty. He said “Nice to meet you” as he mounted his bike to pedal off to next door.

On my walk into Farnham, everybody said “Good morning“. It isn’t exactly rare for people to greet me as I walk into town but today it was everyone. Now that is rare! And all smiling they were too. Mothers with babies and toddlers, couples with dogs, old men with sticky out ears. All of them.

Obviously the staff in Starbucks were all cheerful but they always are. It’s really nice when the baristas know what I have. Today I was standing patiently in line behind a woman and her small son of about 4, trying to decide what to eat. Not him, the son, he had picked his meal and was at the counter. No, it was her. She dithered and faffed and generally held us all up. The girl on the coffee bar noticed me, waved and gestured if I was having it in or taking away. I gestured back. By the time the woman and her son had finished, my coffee was waiting at the till and all I had to do was pay. I do like that.

Taking the dogs for their walk I was pleasantly surprised when a couple of teenagers (from the uni by the looks of their clothes) smiled and said hello when we passed them by in Badger Wood. The joys of spring are obviously highly addictive.

And then, to top it all off, this afternoon a chap came to read the electric meter. Generally when this happens, the guy comes in, reads it and goes. Usually takes about a minute. Not today. He fussed over the dogs, was whistling and commented on how wonderful the day was as he strolled away ten minutes later.

Gee I love spring. And daylight saving starts this weekend. We are finally over the dark period.

Back to school I hobbled. The trouble with gout…well, apart from the actual gout…is the fact that, in order to walk, you have to hobble on the outside of the affected foot. Once the gouty bit eases off, your entire foot aches because of the odd way you’ve been walking. And so, I hobbled to uni with a foot that is sore all over. Still, it’s not as bad as the gout!

Todays first class was about Digital Libraries. Actually, the whole second half of the semester is about them. I missed last week (when I was sick) so I had a quick catch-up on the train. I’d downloaded the notes to my trusty netbook and tried to stay awake reading them. God, I love my netbook. I call her Nettles.

So we listened to Andy as he explained the intricacies of creating and maintaining DLs (as he calls Digital Libraries) and then, after the break mid-class, we huddled in our groups to prepare for the tutorial. Our group is very small. It’s not actually really small but a lot of them weren’t there. Compared to the other three groups, we were minute!

After chatting about all manner of DL stuff, we started discussing who would get up and give the tutorial. Alison said she had the flu so she couldn’t. Maria stated that she’d been dumped on Friday and had been crying all weekend, so she couldn’t. I decided to offer my gout into the mix. Fortunately, Alice was happy to present. She did an admirable, if somewhat rushed, job. Rushed because the other groups had gone over their ten minute time limit, leaving her zero minutes.

Interestingly, Maria was dumped by text. I thought this was just an urban myth. Apparently not. Poor thing. I was dying to ask her what she texted back but she was on the other side of the group and I didn’t want to open any wounds that may have still been tender. For next weeks tutorial, we’ve been paired up so maybe I’ll ask her then.

After lunch in the park – it was a lovely day – I trotted off (slowly) to a far from exciting lecture on indexing and tagging. It was every bit as dull as it sounds. Still, it’s one of those things I HAVE to know. I hadn’t realised that I already knew. A few people took advantage of the mid-class break to escape. I wish I’d been as fleet of foot. Damn gout, defeats me again.

The second half of the class was an exercise. We had to index an article or four. The classroom was very warm. I was getting very tired. The class ended just in time.

I chatted to Mirinda on my journey back to Waterloo. She’d been out looking at flats today and had a lot to tell me. The bus ride was very quickly over. The dogs went insane when I arrived home. Actually, they’re still going insane. They keep hearing something out the back. I’m not letting them go out and bark.

And then, at 7:45, while I was talking to Mirinda on the phone, there was a knock at the door. I thought it was a neighbour come to complain about the girls being too noisy. Standing before me were two clean cut chaps with laminated badges on. I asked what they wanted.

“Good evening, sir,” One started. “We’ve come to give you a message.”

Then I read the badges. The Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter Day Saints. I was very tempted to ask them which saints were the latter ones. Was the cut off St Joan, perhaps? Later? Earlier? I actually really wondered. I think I’ll have to google it because I just said I wasn’t in the least bit interested and shut the door.

Can you believe it? 7:45 at night! A message? I have a message for them. And it isn’t from some mythical spirit creature and some selected heavenly host, either.

Just to prove it was a lovely day, I took this at lunchtime at uni. This is the main building. Isn’t it ugly?

Lunch outside uni

The thing I most love about Sundays is not having to do anything. I like waking at 7 (actually, I’d rather sleep in but my body just wakes me up at 7, regardless), making a coffee and watching Breakfast. Then, when Mirinda wakes, I make her a tea and another coffee for me and go back to bed. And we chat, with the puppies scattered about the bed like so much flokati rug. It doesn’t matter what the weather is like. Nothing matters. It’s my favourite time.

It all ends at about 9:45 when I have to get myself up to the shops and Mirinda talks to her parents on the phone. Though, this week, there was no call for Mirinda as her parents had gone interstate. I still went shopping. Clearly.

And I’ve put the rest of the Tilford photos up. They are here.

It was a well mixed, delight of a day. From Farnham to Tilford to Woking. Most enjoyable…even with gout.

According to the BBC, today was supposed to be bright and blue and warmish. As we woke, the view out the window was grey and gloomy and chilly. This changed quite quickly. As I walked into Farnham, the clouds split apart and the sun burst forth.

During the week, at the Talking Newspaper, one of the stories I read concerned the re-opening of the Rural Life Centre at Tilford after the winter break. I’d never been. I thought that Mirinda had but she hadn’t either. I told the poorly sighted listeners I was going to visit this weekend. So we did. After lunch and a couple of episodes of CSI, we set off.

The Rural Life Centre was started in 1969 with a single plough. Now, thanks to the hard work of a group of very determined volunteers, it covers 10 acres, has a small railway running around it, has numerous buildings taken from other places and more farm implements than anyone could hope to shake any form of wood at.

It reminded Mirinda of Australiana Village. It is a collection of buildings, some old, some not so, which contain memorabilia. Everything has something to do with rural life, as the name suggests. A lot of the buildings have come from local areas, been dismantled and then erected here. For instance, there’s a grain store which was once in Borelli Yard in Farnham. Naturally, Mirinda fell in love with the green gypsy caravan.

Gypsy Caravan

This isn’t an original one, though. It was built by one of the volunteers (called ‘Rustics’) and he sleeps there when he’s one site, working. For that reason, it’s not open to the public like everything else. Because he may be asleep in there. It’s very pretty and would look quite natty in our back garden.

They also promised a working Wealden furnace which is yet to be completed. This was the main reason I wanted to go. I thought it was going to be a bloomery but, no. It has an overshot wheel and hammer and everything! It’s just not quite finished. Looks like I’ll just have to go back then…

There are lots of buildings and lots of stuff. I shall post some pictures later. Suffice to say, we had a very enjoyable wander round before heading back home.

Mirinda took the poodles for a walk around the park while I prepared dinner. You see we were dining early this week as we have tickets for a dance thing at the theatre in Woking. Traces it was called. It was only on for one day. We didn’t miss it.

It was actually quite amazing. Not really my thing. According to Mirinda, I am far too boring in my need for narrative. It’s an odd thing. Naturally I can watch people do some amazing things with their bodies and be stunned by feats as much as the next person but if it doesn’t have some sort of story, I just end up getting bored. It doesn’t hold my attention.

Though that’s not exactly true of Traces. I didn’t get a chance to get even slightly, minutely bored. They were very good and one impossible thing followed the next. Most enjoyable.

We managed to get home in time for Match of the Day and I just saw Chelsea score 4-1 against West Ham.

I am including the photo below just because I thought it was really funny. It’s a horse ambulance but I think it looks like a horse limo and the horse in the back is wearing shades.

Horsey G-G