And after the storm we have a glorious day with the temperature a reasonable 26º. Heavenly and just right for tennis. I’m sure mum would agree since she seems to have become obsessed with the weather at Wimbledon. Apparently Dawn (who loves Wimbledon) spent a large part of the day watching the men’s quarter finals today including Murray’s win. I’m sure she’s very happy tonight.

As Mirinda was in Manchester today (for work…like she’d go there for pleasure! Not!) we didn’t have our usual lunch date so I was at home, doing my house husbandly duties. As I’m off up north myself tomorrow, I’ve made the house lovely for her and the poodles.

Other than shopping, I went out to the park with the girls. Such a lovely day for a walk. Following the increasing prevalence of FSIs, I decided to make them wear their coats. I counted them rolling in some foul remains no less than 8 times. Rotten dogs: Excellent coats.

As we swung up towards the castle, I spotted what I first thought was a giant hare. Actually, that’s not true but Mirinda will understand. I thought it was a Rhodesian ridgeback, standing on top of the defensive ditch that runs around the castle. Then I realised it had a very long neck and was eating grass. Now I’m no authority on Rhodesian ridgebacks but this seemed unlikely behaviour. Then it looked up, staring at me and the poodles.

It was a deer, having a midday munch. I immediately stopped and signalled the dogs to stop. One really handy thing the dogs seemed to have learnt is that when I put my hand (or in fact, a finger) out at them, they just stop and stare at it. Works most of the time and today was no exception. All three of us stood like statues until the deer figured we were just trees that hadn’t been there shortly before, and went back to its meal.

I slowly walked in a circle, keeping my eyes on the deer and the dogs trotting at my heels, eyes glued on my hand. I stopped when we reached one of the Avenue of Trees trees and took out my camera. The deer was still quite a distance from us but, using the tree as an improvised sideways tripod, I snapped a few shots of it, willing it to look up at me.

Deer in Farnham Park

It is so rare to catch them out during the day, I was thrilled. The deer is looking down the hill from me where a woman and two Labradors were approaching. It bolted soon afterwards, as all the dogs spotted each other and the four of them started talking in overly loud dog language.

Speaking of the girls…while I was taking my blip for today, Carmen decided to sit on the patio table, giving me moral support (or wondering what the hell I was doing crouched over the cotton lavender). She looked so cute, I snapped her too.

Carmen in her favourite sunny position

I won’t have my netbook with me for the next few days as I go north to watch the cricket and drink beer so my ravings will be having a rest until Sunday when I can type again.

In Norfolk you can buy these weather dolls – for all I know you can get them everywhere but I did see one from Norfolk recently. They can tell you the weather. They have a notice that goes with them that reads “If I am wet, it’s raining. If I am dry, it’s not. If my hair is horizontal, it’s windy. If it’s vertical, it’s still.” Or words to that effect. Apparently the dolls are very accurate if placed outside. I have a much better way of finding out the weather.

Today, as I was cleaning the fridge, I had a text. It was my mother asking if it was raining. It was, indeed, raining. There was thunder, lightening and a thorough drenching of a rain storm. Confused, I told her as much. She was watching Wimbledon and the rain was so heavy, it could be heard in Queensland as it thumped on the roof over centre court.

So, from now on, if I want to know the weather, I’m just going to text my mother.

The storm that assailed us here in the south east was indeed a doozy. A sudden, unexpected lightening flash took out a few trains, rendering them useless. Yesterday it was so hot that some trains were unable to move because the overhead wires melted. I think that says more about the state of the rail service over here than anything else.

I had just completed planting the self sown verbascum ‘seedlings’ (remember the banana custard?) that Mirinda had rescued in the ex-nettle patch when the rain started dropping on us. The sky was suddenly black and we high-tailed it into the house just it started drenching everything.

I heard the roofers next door scampering down off the scaffold. I imagine a roof is not the best place to be during a storm. Particularly one surrounded by scaffolding like so many lightening rods just begging for some sort of Ben Franklin re-enactment.

The poodles hate thunder, particularly Carmen, and they huddled around me as I made an early lunch. Normally Carmen sits on a dining room chair and waits for her sliced meat treat but not today. She was at my feet, her tail down, misery in her eyes as the thunder rumbled directly overhead.

Sitting on the lounge, eating my baguette and watching the TV, she was stretched out, her head resting on my knee at an extremely awkward angle – anything to remain in contact with me. Every now and then her eyes would half open, just to make sure I was still there.

Day-z isn’t that keen on thunder either so she was tightly curled up in my lap. I was covered in poodles. I didn’t mind but Day-z wasn’t too happy when the phone rang and I had to move her.

Eventually the rain stopped and the sun weakly made an appearance, so we headed up to the park for a lovely walk where we only met one other person walking his dog. Everyone else must have been waiting a little longer, just to make sure the rain had gone.

The park smells so good just after rain. It’s all fresh and alive, sunlight glistening off droplets, leaves awash with water. Everything was perfect…until Day-z had an FSI. You take your eyes off them for one minute and…so, the perfect ruination of a perfect walk.

Back home, after giving her a jolly good bath, I returned to the garden for some intensive weeding, among other things, picking out the tiny little nettle plants that have sprung forth from the herb table. This is because I used our own compost which, clearly, harbours nasty little nettle seeds.

I’m now wondering if mum could tell me what the weather will be tomorrow.

I didn’t take many photographs today but spotted the roses from the kitchen window, looking somewhat wet after the rain and ran out to snap them.

Roses after the rain

Today was another scorcher. Really. I’m not exaggerating. It was 32 degrees at the weather station at 1:30pm this afternoon. The sun was relentless, beating down on me as I mowed the lawn then continued as I dug up the pixie plot.

This morning on Breakfast, Carol said that after reaching great heights, the weather would come down with a crash. Thunder, lightening, rain, the works as the heatwave comes to a momentous end. This may well have happened somewhere else but it sure didn’t happen in Surrey. Sure, the sky became very cloudy but no sign of rain (or meatballs). In fact, it just became more humid.

I did feel a few spots on my face at around 4:30 as I finished up a bit of weeding around the snapdragons but this was it. Not enough to wet a pixie. So, after working my fingers to a frazzle, I still had to water the garden.

Mirinda and I discussed the pixie plot this weekend and decided to dig up the surrounding grass and lay down a membrane before covering it with bark chippings. The idea is to give a seamless move into the stick pile. The bark chippings will have to come later but the rest is now complete.

The pixie plot ready for the bark chippings

Obviously the membrane had to go around the existing plant but otherwise completely covers the plot. Hopefully this will stop any nasty weeds (or grass) growing up.

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This just popped up on Twitter. It made me smile.

Highway Cleaning

According to the weather station, it was 38 degrees at the bottom of our garden at about 6pm tonight. Because of the temperature (it has been stifling all day) we did little more than laze around the house, waiting for the temperature to go down so we could take the poodles for a walk.

The reason this was a problem is not so much the heat but rather the fact that my thongs have glued themselves to the concrete outside. And to say we both lazed, is not entirely true…I lazed while Mirinda worked on something to do with work.

It was really too hot to do anything. In fact, it’s still pretty hot so this will be a pretty short entry.

I spent a bit of time photographing flowers today. Here’s a lobelia. I am now going to pour my poor self into bed.

A very bright lobelia on the herb table

‘Twas a very busy day. So busy, it felt like more than one. Without a sleep in between.

First up, we had decided to go and look at a cottage we’d found (and which I’d shown mum and she’d shown Audrey and Mirinda showed Susanne…and so it goes) and thought looked perfect for us. Actually it was pretty good from the details online and we thought it maybe just the solution we were looking for rather than put up with extensions and such like, here.

And so I went to guitar with Mirinda and sat outside in the table area enjoying a coffee and caramel slice. That’s two separate things and not a caramel slice with the addition of coffee granules. While I sat and read (or raced cars on my smart phone) I listened to someone torture the Flintstones theme on a trumpet. Actually, when Mirinda finished she asked me if I’d heard her. It was impossible over the trumpet, I assured her.

Mirinda bought a new guitar today. It’s a silent one. Just the right thing to play on business class flights. It’s quite an odd looking thing. You can even plug it in, add headphones and listen to yourself play while still not bothering anyone else…although the singing may be a bit disturbing.

Directly after her class, we went over to a small place called Rake. It’s just down the road from Liphook, where Dawn and Nick live. It is also where the cottage is. We went to the garden centre which is nearly all the shops in Rake, had a coffee and then on to the cottage.

The road between Liphook and Petersfield dissects Rake. Every room of the cottage was filled with the reverberations of the traffic travelling almost constantly along this road because the cottage is mere inches from the side of it. Honestly, I couldn’t hear half of what the realo said, it was so loud. Sad, really, because we could have seen ourselves living there. Perhaps if we grow profoundly deaf, it may be an option.

Yesterday I’d asked Nicktor is he was going to be in around lunchtime so we could pop in and congratulate him on his new job. And we did (Dawn was out gallivanting around museums in London), having a great old chinwag. Mirinda, while talking on the phone, hadn’t seen Nicktor for ages. They chatted about work while I feigned interest.

Back in Farnham I went shopping while Mirinda went home only to answer the telephone to Uncle Ronnie who was on his way from Devon to Horsham to attend a party. We were on the way so he was dropping in. I needed to hurry home. Which I did.

A goodly while later, Uncle Ronnie and Ivan turned up and we spent a lovely hour or so sitting out the back, eating cake and chatting about various things. It was all very jolly, although sadly short, and they soon took off for the party, two hours late.

I managed to get Mirinda to take our photo just before they left. Here I am with Uncle Ronnie.

Uncle Ronnie getting attacked by the wisteria

And here’s Ivan, successfully managing to get the campervan out of our street after a 15 point turn.

Ivan manages to turn his campervan around

It was a lovely day but a wee bit busy for us home bodies!

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I’ve included two of the tracks from this week’s Talking Newspaper. Firstly it’s
whats on quickly followed by sport.

I learned an awful lot about Humber bicycles today. The most surprising thing was that the big metal sprocket which the chain goes around and the pedals are attached to, had a pattern which was made to resemble people. Like paper dolls, they are all attached at the upraised hands and spread feet. There are five of them. I wasn’t able to find out why but it was something they were known for.

The company doesn’t exist any more because they were bought by Raleigh Cycles a while back but the innovations they brought to the world of cycling remain. What also remains are a number of fantastic posters from the early 20th century depicting some seriously rough looking bikes with Edwardian ladies and top hated gentlemen riding or holding them. Though, I’m quite taken with this one I found on the Net.

French girl on a bicycle and not at all shy

Purely coincidentally, a couple of records after the Humber, was a poster featuring a Continental tyre. Continental were (and still are to some extent) very big in bicycle tyre development and invention. They are a massive company and the record I’ve started will take quite a lot more work to complete. Needless to say, their car tyre business is somewhat larger and more what they’re known for. Though they are quite proud of the fact that in 1900 they made the seals for the gas bag of the world’s first airship.

These two companies started at about the same time (albeit one in England and the other in Germany) but I have no idea whether their paths crossed. Rubber being a rapidly changing industry as well as bicycling, they very well may have.

I also researched three Scottish artists…I only mention this because I might get one each week but multiple Scottish artists is a rarity for me.

At lunchtime I took a wander around the first floor among the clocks and compasses, picking out possible blips. There were a lot of kids there today. I think teachers decide Friday is a good day to take the little ones to the Science Museum. I wish they’d asked me.

I quite like the fact that they suspend huge things from the ceiling. Here’s an example. I’m not sure what type of plane it is but it sure looks like it’s about to hit that security guard. On the other hand, he doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

Plane about to land in the Science Museum

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And as I left work I received a phone call from Nicktor – this is quite rare as we generally text or email. He was offered and has taken the new job! I shall now refer to him as the HR King. All hail Nicktor, the HR King.

I can’t believe that this is my 500th post. I’d hate to know how many words I’ve typed.

Anyway, today marked my 3rd Talking Newspaper presenter job and it went very well. I had a bit of a dream team, I should add. John & June the husband and wife team who always make me laugh (he’s a local vicar with a beard to rival Uncle Les) and Deidre who has been volunteering for 13 years, today being her final session.

We even had a bit of singing as Deidre talked about a night of music hall coming to the area soon. Apart from tap dancing, we had everything (including jelly) and Paul, the engineer, claimed it was the most entertaining recording session he’d ever had. Oh, if only they were all so fantastic.

When the recording arrives I’ll put up a couple of tracks (happy, mother?) rather than the usual one with just me on it…if I’m happy with the finished result that is.

So that was just about my day today – apart from spending two hours on the phone with the lovely Lauren who has organised our upcoming flights.

It did occur to me that I’ve not posted a shot of the back garden from the study window for ages and it’s looking particularly lush at the moment (with all the rain – and I spoke to a couple from Suffolk today who said the drought was very real). So, here it is, although you can’t see all the work I’ve been doing as it’s beyond the trees and shrubs:

The back garden from the study window

If you’re ever in a position of choice between taking the tube from Embankment or walking across Waterloo Bridge, I’d always choose the latter. At least that’s what I thought before today. Sadly, this is no longer true. My newest aphorism is “if in doubt, catch the Tube”.

I’d seen the weather report so cannot plead ignorance. Even sitting in the restaurant where Mirinda and I had Italian for lunch, the rain was heavy enough for me to see it without my glasses. Did I heed the warning of Apollo or hear the glee of Thor? Not a bit!

We had a lovely lunch in a new place (for us). The thing about the location of Mirinda’s office is that there are enough restaurants within a lunchtime radius that we will probably never run out of a new one every Wednesday. We wander, Mirinda spots somewhere, we eat. Brilliant strategy.

I would normally have a Fiorentina pizza in an Italian place but the special salmon in a lime, coriander and butter sauce was too good to pass up. Apart from the calorific content (about the weight of an adult yak) it was perfect. I guess that really means it tasted great but was very, very bad. Too bad, I say! In all senses.

Earlier in the day (before I left home) I realised that someone had stolen my umbrella. Given that the last time I saw it was hanging from a hook by the front door, it could only be one of three and I’m pretty sure the poodles would have difficulty working the opening mechanism.

As I looked out from the restaurant window, smiling at the poor tourists running from shelter to shelter and the lunchtime workers battling against the wind with their oversized golf umbrellas, I remembered I didn’t have mine anymore.

Normally I’m rather reticent when it comes to umbrellas. I think they are dangerous and pretty useless when there’s even a puff of wind. However, it’s always nice to know there’s one in my bag if I’m ever caught up in a drench emergency. Like today.

After lunch, the rain having eased off to the faintest of faint drips, I walked Mirinda back to her office and then set off back to Waterloo. I stood at a metaphoric crossroads in Embankment Park. Left to Waterloo Bridge or right to Embankment Tube. Stupidly, I turned left.

15 minutes later I was standing in front of the platform indicators in Waterloo concourse, soaking wet with no-one to blame but myself. Never mind, I thought glumly, the train will be announced shortly and I can strip off my wet outer garments and be relatively comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can be on a South West Trains 450 carriage.

The announcements at Waterloo station are terrible. It’s not a language or accent thing because generally the announcer has clear diction and an easy to understand accent. The problem with the public address system at Waterloo Station is one of pitch. A voice needs to be of a certain tone otherwise any long information will become indecipherable.

For instance, today the train was delayed for some reason – it said so on the indicator board – and some bright spark figured it would be a good idea to let us know why. The message sounded a little something like this:

For those passengers waiting for the 13:23 train to Alton this train gmbld nmukl grmmb drddldrd grmp dmp dmp [this actually went on for ages but you get the idea] very shortly.

I’d like someone to tell me why that was necessary. It wasn’t just me, there were plenty of other passengers looking completely mystified, some asking other people what had been said and getting only shrugs in reply.

Anyway, eventually the indicator changed and I boarded the train on platform 11 (where a train had been sitting all the time I’d been waiting) and, apart from leaving a few minutes late, had an uneventful trip home.

Here’s one of the only decent photos I took today. It features Embankment Pier where Mirinda catches her ferry (one very similar to the one in the shot) and, if you look carefully, you can see her building.

Embankment Pier

When you’re on a dig, you may get asked to excavate a post hole. This will be all that remains of an upright post – the sort of thing they once made buildings out of. A dig director or supervisor will generally see something on the ground that only a trained archaeological eye can spot, point and say “excavate that post hole!” I remember at the Minge last time, poor Tom excavated about 500 of them.

They show up on the ground as round (obviously) and a different colour to the surrounding soil. This is generally because the soil is made up of the rotted timber (among other things). So you half section it, which means you dig out one half. As you dig and trowel you collect finds (unless you’re me when it’s just going to be dirt and rocks) until you hit what you think is the ‘natural’.

At the bottom of really big post holes you are also likely to find the rocks that held the post in place before the hole was filled in and packed with earth.

Having completed excavating your half section, it is now time to draw your half post hole both in plan and in section, marking all the little bits of rock still stuck in the other half (or bits of pot if you’re not me). You then whack out the other half. Eventually you have a big round hole, slightly bigger than the post that originally stood in it.

Today I dug a post hole. It was three feet deep and extended about two inches into the ‘natural’ which, I discovered, is very solid clay. But this wasn’t your normal, garden variety wooden post hole. This one still had the post in it. And it was steel. And stuck very, very fast.

I was digging the ex-nettle patch bed, uprooting the nasty buggers and generally having a fine old time, when the tines of my fork struck what I thought was a rock. Using a small spade I attempted to find it. I found something but it wasn’t moving.

Generally I get a bit excited when this happens. I guess it’s the archaeological training. Anyway, I moved the earth away and found the top of the above-mentioned two inch pipe. I was already down about six inches. I figured it would be a good idea to dig it out, thinking it would only be a few inches long.

Three hours later I stood, triumphant, holding a three foot length of rusted pipe which had been bashed into the clay by two inches. It had taken a lot of effort and the introduction of the tools from my dig bag but I managed to dig it out. I have no idea what it was doing down there.

My best guess would be that it was left over from before the land was developed. It was agricultural land prior to 1900 and would have had a lot of earth spread over it before being subdivided into house plots. So this bar was either left over from the original farm (unlikely because they would probably have used timber fencing) or was a leftover field marker from when the original surveyors worked on it.

If the latter is the case (and I think it may be) then the line of our back yard is a bit off. The pipe was about two feet in from the boundary with next door. If it also marked the extent of the property then it was a good ten feet from the back fence.

All a bit mysterious but quite satisfying to be rid of it. Now, of course, the hole has been back filled and the post is standing against the compost heap waiting for me to show Mirinda.

After lunch (and as a break from post hole digging) I took the poodles to the park. Apart from Carmen repeating her antics from yesterday which resulted in her second bath in as many days, we wandered around the funfair to see what was happening. Here’s a shot of the Twister. I think it looks rather odd among the trees.

The fair comes to Farnham Park

And here’s a photo of most of the hot border with the plants I put in yesterday.

Hot border with the new (mostly) yellow plants

One other thing archaeology related from today. Making History is a Radio 4 programme in which listeners ask questions about the past and the presenters find out more, talking to experts etc. This week it featured Matt Pope, an expert on the Mesolithic period and a really lovely guy I’ve had the pleasure of working under. He was talking about a fantastic causewayed enclosure called Whiteleaf near Brighton. This just happens to be the focus of Dawn’s PHD and sounded fascinating. She has offered to give me a guided tour of it one day. I’m going to hold her to that.

If you would like to listen to Matt Pope, you can hear him here on the Radio 4 site. You don’t have to listen to the entire programme as he is the first person interviewed by Fiona on today’s programme.

I joined Mirinda on the train this morning as far as Woking. My shoes have grown a hole in the sole so I needed to visit my favourite shop for a new pair. Given the rain, every time I wear the old ones, one foot gets squishily wet. I hate having to carry spare socks so figured new shoes were the best solution. And so I headed off for TK Maxx.

The old pair were ideal because they are quite wide in the foot, allowing for comfort during mild gout days – mild enough not to need the gout sandals, anyway – and so it was with some trepidation I set about trying to find a pair as good. And would you believe it! They had the very same shoes (just a different colour)!

Naturally, I snapped them up before they could disappear. As well as a couple of new shirts. My haul came to under £50 for the lot so I was very pleased. I just LOVE TK Maxx.

Back at home I set to mowing the lawn before the rain arrived. BBC had prophesied that it would hit us at about 4pm so I knew I had plenty of time but I also had some planting to do. The lawn was in desperate need of a trim after the rain of the last few days but the mower made short work of it and I settled down for lunch.

It was then up to the park with the poodles to check out the funfair which is presently setting up in the park. This happens every year. Lots of trucks invade the football pitch beside the castle, forming a circle like so many wagons defending against the Indians. In fact, looking back at my posts, it was exactly a year ago that they were here.

We chased a few dogs, ran away from others and then headed home. While taking a temporary diversion into Squirrel Tree Copse, Carmen had an FSI. She hasn’t done this for a while but today she found the mother lode.

I reckon there’s a communal fox toilet just behind the Squirrel Tree and the last fox that used it forgot to shut the door. Boy did she stink. Gaggingly smelly. Even Day-z walked at a distance from her. Of course, Carmen thought it was all great and walked with her head and tail held high. Stupid dog. And she hated the vigorous bath.

Having rid the house of the obnoxious odour of Carmen’s stupidity, I hit the garden, ready to plant up the horde from Saturday. Mirinda had placed them in their pre-ordained locations throughout the new bed so all I had to do was dig, manure, water and plonk them in. This I did while listening to Radio 4, watching the growing blackness starting to make itself known above the house.

I had two more to plant and it started. Big drips started hitting me. I heard the roofers next door down tools and vacate the scaffold as I rushed to finish the planting. The rain started in earnest and I quickly moved the radio and my camera into the shed before returning to finish, water streaming down my face.

The dogs were sitting on the sun lounger watching, ignoring the rain. Idiots. Anyway, I managed to finish and put all the tools away before rescuing the radio and my camera and heading inside. The rain still hasn’t stopped. This means I am unable to take a photo of the finished bed. Maybe tomorrow.

Here’s a picture of the Lightbox, the museum in Woking. I’ve yet to visit it. I would have today except it doesn’t open until 10:30 each day and I was catching a train home by then.

The Lightbox museum, Woking