The House Husband

Apart from talking to my mother for an hour and a half, today has been full of working out finances. Seriously dull which goes with the weather. It’s been a long day of rain and cold and grey skies. In fact, on Breakfast this morning, the weather map showed the whole of Great Britain completely covered with rain. Feels like February.

So, nothing really happened to me today. For that reason, I thought I’d post a few photographs I took of birds yesterday. Some I’m quite happy with.

Just about to take off

I’d set the camera up in front of one of our feeder poles. Mirinda told me that the wrens sometimes perched on the top and, because I’ve yet to photograph (or even see) a wren, I thought it would be a good place to start. I didn’t get a wren.

Coming in for a landing

There was an awful lot of gold finches (as usual), blue tits (as usual) and coal tits (even more so). I kept the ones showing them in or preparing for flight.

Fast out of the blocks for this little blue tit

As Mirinda says, it’s great to see them like this because they are so fast, it’s not something you normally see. Sadly they’re all a bit blurry (or not completely in frame) which spoils them but it gives you an idea about how graceful and beautiful they can be.

A coal tit, almost gone

I did manage a couple of nice gold finch shots (there’s one in blip) and a particularly pretty blue tit but they were motionless and, dare I say, a bit dull.

Barry looking rather dapper

One highlight was getting a shot of a gold finch with an id ring on one leg. I’ve never seen one of these before and thought it rather exciting. I do wonder how the person who did it managed to catch him though.

A bird with a history

Anyway, tomorrow I’m having lunch with Mirinda so, hopefully I’ll have a little more to post!

The birds were very noisy today. I topped up the feeders in the morning and think they may have been telling all their mates to ‘COME AND GET IT’! Whatever they were saying, it worked. Even though the day was mostly memorable for being miserable, grey and wet – the path is so wonderful in the rain – the birds were simply flooding in.

A bunch of starlings having a meeting about the weather

We were going to take the poodles for a walk somewhere nice but the weather was against us in a big way. After Mirinda finished working on her essay (her usual morning routine at the moment), the heavens simply drew a damp, grey cloud over everything. The poodles were not too pleased.

Carmen looking somewhat displeased

Before lunch, Mirinda had a great idea after a text exchange with Susanne and, as a result, we are off to the Isle of Wight tomorrow for a day trip. The weather is supposed to be much improved (which wouldn’t be hard). We are to drive over to Haslemere and take the train. Apparently Rafi has started riding a bike. Not sure if he jousts while riding but suspect he does.

But, that’s for tomorrow. Today was nothing but the birds, rain and catching up on Christmas telly. before I go, here’s a couple of pigeons who spent quite a bit of time arguing over the rich pickings on one of the obelisks.

The Obelisk Wars, eventually won by the white one

We’ve had a bit of rain over the last few days. A little while ago, this would have meant the dining room floor having a thick layer of mud on top of the wood. This was partly from my wellies but mostly due to the paws of the poodles.

The fur at the end of their feet acts like a mop, absorbing and then redistributing. They go outside, wander around and then bring the garden into the house.

Most of the time I manage to wipe them dry before they enter the rest of the house but the dining room always cops it. And I haven’t mentioned the muddy footprints across the kitchen tiles.

However, everything has changed with the path. Oh, glorious path. What a difference! Ok, there’s still a bit of water but nothing like the old pre-path days. Mind you, Carmen has only three feet to work with at the moment so you’d expect it to be a lot less than normal anyway.

Speaking of Carmen, she has started using her leg a bit (though not when we go for our little walks up the path), gradually putting more weight on it. I have to be quite alert because she races up and down the stairs if I’m not.

Her stitches seem to have done their job well as her wound quickly heals and she doesn’t appear to be suffering any pain although I think she’ll still gets a bit uncomfortable every now and then. She particularly doesn’t like it when Day-z bites the leg.

It hasn’t rained all day. This morning I managed to finally get some photographs of a nuthatch – Dawn’s favourite bird (apparently). They normally fly in, grab some food and then flash away again, leaving me with nothing but an image of the feed tray. This one, however, decided to stuff his face with as much food as possible.

Little beak, many seeds

He really is a lovely little chap, though I think he looks a bit like a badger, with that black stripe across his face. Or maybe an old fashioned burglar.

Hiding behind a chain

We also had another visit from the starlings. I’ve never really noticed how beautiful they are.

Starling

Speaking of visits, I had an unexpected one from Nicktor this evening. He was on his way from his new work to a Christmas ‘do’ at his old place of work and suggested ‘popping in for a cup of tea’. Which is exactly what he did. I haven’t seen him for ages so it was a great treat. Hopefully next week we’ll be able to have a Nicktor Night.

We managed to get soaked on the way from Susanne’s flat to Shanklin Station. It was like Australian rain – not the usual soft, non-wetting, English variety. It had sort of threatened all day but decided to wait until we couldn’t possibly dry off.

We woke to a few showers and the guy running the hotel said he had just started walking the dog when the rain fell on them both. We just laid in bed and listened to it. It stopped by the time we left the hotel. The guy running the hotel very nicely offered to look after our bags while we went for a long stroll along to Rylstone gardens, down the long, scary stairs and onto the beach.

Shanklin Beach before the storm

In fact, the weather was lovely. The skies almost clear, the sun just warm enough, not too many people around. The rain waited until we’d settled under an umbrella at the Aqua Hotel with coffees. Here’s an interesting thing…Mirinda ordered the coffees and told me she’d ordered me a cappuccino. I’m not sure who she thought she was buying it for because I haven’t actually had a cappuccino for many years. Not that I was bothered – a coffee is a coffee, after all – it just amazed me. Of course, it might actually be years since she bought me a coffee.

The Aqua Hotel, Shanklin

Anyway, the rain only fell for a short while (making a mockery of the comedy couple who couldn’t quite work out what to do in order to have a drink and not get wet) and we wandered up two doors to meet Susanne and Rafi. Rafi had finished his homework and so was able to join in the conversation.

Mirinda, Susanne, Rafi on way along cliff top, Shanklin

After a bit (well, actually after a pint) we wandered over to the cliff lift for the short trip back to the hotel to pick up our bags which we then transferred to Susanne’s flat where we had a lovely lunch while Rafi & I played kung fu panda on each other.

It was a very relaxing day. Sadly, the rush to the station in drenching rain, was not.

The rest of the trip back to Farnham was all very easy with connections working perfectly everywhere and we were eventually able to remove the damp things we were wearing and sit back and relax. It’s rather good that Mirinda has a Book Group day tomorrow rather than going to work because we both need a bit of a rest.

There were flash floods in Dorset today and our garden was drenched. A lot of rain fell in the south east of England. It has been so cold that Mirinda had the central heating on as she beavered away on work stuff. I just sweltered.

Actually, when I went shopping first thing, I was dampened pretty thoroughly. At the checkout, when asked if I wanted a bag, I had to say yes, explaining it was to go on top of my shopping after I’d packed my own shopping bag. Great way to cut down on plastic use, saving the planet in the process. Or not.

At home we both listened to Radio 4, although in different rooms and on different radios. One piece I only heard the end of concerned the daughter of Thomas Carlyle, writer and satirist. The woman who now looks after his house for the National Trust told the following story.

Apparently, when he lived in Chelsea (from 1834), Thomas Carlyle lived next door to a family who had chickens. While the Carlyle house was pretty quiet in the 19th century as opposed to now, next door’s chickens caused him a lot of grief. When he sat down to write, his peace and tranquillity would be invaded by the anti-social squawking, pecking and crowing of the birds.

This unsatisfactory situation would mean Mrs Carlyle (Jane) would have to march around to the neighbours and tell them, in no uncertain terms, to please make their chickens be quiet because her husband (important man that he was) couldn’t concentrate on his writing. (Actually, she was pretty important as well, becoming one of the most important ‘people of letters’ of the 19th century.)

Now, I have no problem with people complaining about noise, particularly if it’s disturbing someone’s work but I really want to know how you shut a chicken up. A dog, a baby, aggressive parents screeching at their kids, even a parrot but chickens? It’s not like you can reason with them or lock them in the dark. The only way I know is cut their heads off and even then, it doesn’t work immediately and makes a bit of a mess. It also means the end of egg production.

Moving on a few years…a maid ‘accidentally’ burned the original first volume of Carlyle’s History of the French Revolution, which he re-wrote completely after finishing volumes two and three. I think it’s just possible that the maid had something to do with the neighbours and their chickens. Revenge is best served cold.

Says everything about our garden today

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But the rain faded into a barely perceived background after Fiona texted to say that Claire had her first drink of water, her first swallow of anything, since October 26 last year. Great cheers went up and Mirinda immediately called her dad. There were no leaks so it looks like she is well on the road to recovery. We are all very happy.

I was at the Talking Newspaper today, presenting the Haslemere & Liphook News. I think it went rather well. I had a great team of readers (and my engineer was Malcolm, who sounds and acts like Biggles and was, in fact, in the RAF) and I didn’t make any mistakes.

Actually, if I’m being really honest, I did make a sort of mistake. As we approach the end of a piece we’re reading, we are supposed to raise our hand then drop it to indicate to the next reader that it is their turn to speak. By doing this, the reading can be continuous rather than stopping and starting between each reader. It works well and is simple to do.

It was at the end of What’s On (I think) and I the next reader wasn’t ready (his headphones were round his neck and he’d knocked his microphone). Unfortunately I couldn’t see he wasn’t ready as I was reading the What’s On stuff so, as usual, I just announced his name and hit his mike button. At the same time as I released the button I looked at him.

The poor thing looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. It took him at least 30 seconds to get himself ready to speak and then his mike was wrong so another 30 seconds for that before he was actually reading his next story. Given we measure stories in 90 second slots means he’d almost used up his allotted time!

Of course, that’s not a problem because the engineer will have removed the big pause during editing. The only really problem is that I have to keep an eye on the clock in order to know when to change from one track to the next. It meant I had to add roughly a minute to it each time.

I can just hear my wife laughing at the fact that I was forced to engage in mathematics on the fly but I can assure her, adding a single minute is something even I can do (though I’m not sure about Ben who apparently has worse maths than me). The difficulty is communicating with the engineer, silently, trying to make him realise I’m allowing for the minute. Anyway, it was all fine and the session was actually very enjoyable.

The biggest bonus of the day was missing the rain, which I did three times. I took the dogs for a walk early (before I had to leave) and it started raining as we returned to the front door. Then it poured while I was in the studio recording but stopped by the time I left. And, finally, I was standing in Waitrose waiting to be served when the heavens opened up, drenching about a dozen people wandering passed. Again, it stopped by the time I left the shop.

On the way to the recording, I picked up my new glasses which made an instant difference.

My new Oakley glasses

I think they look pretty cool.

I am presently reading a book by Jenny Uglow, a favourite author of mine. The book is called The Lunar Men and is about the amazing group of men who lived in and around Litchfield in the mid 18th century. They had regular meetings and called their little gatherings The Lunar Society because they would only meet on a Sunday close to the full moon. The reason was not because they were mad but because of the lack of street lights, the moon giving them sufficient light to get home afterwards!

Included in the group where people like Erasmus Darwin (grandfather of Charles), Josiah Wedgwood (he of the pottery) and Matthew Boulton (an amazing man who eventually partnered with James Watt to create steam engines…among other things). There were many more who would meet and discuss everything and anything like fossils, botany, medicine, mechanical engineering, pottery glaze, Rousseau, etc.

The reason I bring this up (apart from the fact that it is a very enjoyable book) is because of a section I read today. Matthew Boulton has reached middle age (he is 52) and is surprised. Ms Uglow writes:

“Middle age made little difference to Boulton. His hair was touched with grey and his feet stabbed by gout, but he seemed astonished to be growing older.”

When I read that, it struck a chord. I have never felt my age. When I look in the mirror, I’m genuinely surprised that I look older. When people make a comment like “You’re old enough to remember…” I’m amazed. I realise, of course, that I shouldn’t; that I am, in fact 55 but even so…deep down inside, I’m not so sure.

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So it rained most of the day today. Just perfect for housework. We did go for a walk (I waited for Mirinda to call me and when she hadn’t and I knew it was gone midnight, we left and she rang about ten minutes later!) in that particular English fine rain that you don’t realise has soaked you until you’ve been in it for an hour.

Of course, the garden was very pleased and, hopefully, has soaked up enough water to be especially lush for Mirinda’s return on Saturday night.

And, of course, here’s tonight’s shot of the gladiolus. Following Mirinda’s comment, I’ve moved around a bit, to show it from a better angle. Hopefully it’ll look a little less weird. I’m pretty sure each one of those little spikes contains a flower.

Gladiolus - day four

Fortunately, when the heavens opened and Farnham was drenched for the umpteenth time this week, I was in the studio recording another edition for the Talking Newspaper.

It was the Alton edition this week, which, apart from anything else, means a late start and finish. I had two chaps reading for me today who I’ve never met before. This still amazes me after all this time. My third reader was Lindsey, who’ve I read with many times.

They were a jolly group and we had a fun old time, chuckling away and generally being a bit cheeky…well, I was, anyway. I had to improvise during the sport section a bit because of the weather last weekend. It was so bad, there was no cricket results due to there being no cricket! The one story was of a disastrous game which ended up being incomplete. Though it was accompanied by a lovely photograph of a rainbow over the ground during one of the drier periods of play.

We describe the photographs for our listeners. Apparently they particularly like this. It makes sense, if you think about it. Most of the photographs are of smiling children and local dignitaries receiving or handing out giant cheques, so it was quite nice to get one of a rainbow over a cricket pitch. I also had a rather nice one of a water vole, poking its nose between some reeds on a river bank.

And, speaking of cricket, I had a nice little piece about the first game of cricket played at a particular ground in Hampshire (I can’t remember, and have never heard of, the place) where the writer explained the fact that once upon a time, runs were called notches. The reason for this was because the scorer would make notches in a piece of wood every time a batsman scored a run. I’m guessing paper was too expensive (we’re talking 1756) or just too valuable to waste on cricket scoring.

The recording all went smoothly (I’m ignoring the time I pressed the wrong button and we had to start again) and we managed to finish ahead of schedule – always a good thing.

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Mirinda asked for a photograph of the auricula theatre so here is one. It was pretty dull by the time I arrived home from the Talking Newspaper so sorry about the quality. Still, you can see all the lovely flowers. Even though none of them are actually auriculas…

The auricula theatre in bloom

I’ll get some photos of the front garden on the weekend…especially if the sun comes out!

Carmen hates hot air balloons (of course, being a French poodle, she calls them Montgolfiers). She grew to hate them while growing up at Alton where they regularly coasted above our cottage. What she hates most is the noise they make when the big burners are set off. She goes crazy.

A while ago we had one come down in the park not far from us and, as it almost skimmed the back fence, Carmen barked and showed her considerable displeasure by trying to stare it down.

Given the weather recently, we haven’t had a lot of balloon activity so Carmen’s sleep has only been disturbed by run of the mill things like other dogs getting out of cars, the people either side of us walking in the gardens, cats, squirrels and her sister.

This afternoon I was weeding (the sun actually came out for a bit and we only had one bout of rain at lunchtime), listening to the birds and insects buzzing around me when Carmen started going off. She was standing on the patio table, facing the Crazies’ house. I figured it was a cat – there’s one which regularly sits on the fence, teasing her. But no cat was in evidence. And then I suddenly realised what it was.

The Crazies are having some work done down the side of their house. Getting a window replaced or something. For the last two days there’s been a young guy there drilling and bashing and generally making working noises while dodging the rain. Today he was joined by a guy who I presumed is his boss (he was older and told him what to do).

He (the older chap) was standing at the top of a ladder with a heat gun, sealing the window (I think). The noise made by the heat gun was exactly like a hot air balloon and it was this that Carmen was barking at.

The guy turned and looked at Carmen, asking her what she was barking at. I told him it was the noise, that she didn’t like hot air balloons, thinking this probably sounded most peculiar.

“Ah, right. Yeah, mine does the same. Hates them,” he said.

Anyway, that was about it for excitement today.

Talking to mum on the phone, she asked for photos of the garden. She likes the flower close ups but wants to get a sense of the whole thing. So, for mum…and so Mirinda can keep an eye on her garden as well.

From the study

This is the garden taken from Mirinda’s study window. On the left, about halfway up, you may see some tiny red spots. These are the snapdragons. In the bottom right hand corner is the twisted hazel and the big purple rose bush.

The patio pots

The patio just outside the kitchen window. Lots of colour from geraniums and lobelia. These are Mirinda’s pots. The herb table is also looking very full. This was taken before I weeded!

Did I say we only one bout of rain? As I sit here typing, it just started pouring again. Bloody weeds will just grow more.

The hot border

The hot border from the back of the new border that has little in it at the moment. The lavatera on the right is Carmen’s and is the other side of the big one. The blue trug is for the weeds I was digging up. It’s on its side because of the sudden rain shortly before this shot was taken.

Verbena

We were despairing that the verbena wasn’t growing (it did suffer in the snow last year) but it has come up just not as thickly this time. That’s the long stalks with the tiny purple flowers on top. This is the other side of the patio. The little yellow buttons of the cotton lavender can be seen as well as a stray orange crocosmia against the fence. The purple lavender has all fallen over because the dogs love running between it and the fence when the cat is teasing them. While it makes the lavender look a bit messy, the dogs end up smelling beautiful.

And a final shot of Day-z in her favourite place – sitting on a window sill, staring out at the world. This is in Mirinda’s study and where I tend to find her when I’m working upstairs.

Day-z at the window

And, for clarification, the title does not refer to that cheesy 1973 film about robot cowboys starring Yul Brynner as a robot gunslinger.

Weather wise, it was horrid today. On Breakfast they said there would be intermittent showers and boy were they right. The showers came and stopped, the sun came out then went in and the showers started again. It was like this all day. Subsequently my weeding was somewhat erratic.

I would rush out as the rain stopped, start ripping them out then race back in when the rain started again. I managed to weed the hot border. That’s about it, really. During periods of wet I did filing; catching up on the paperwork backlog.

We did manage to get a walk in (though we did get wet a few times) and spotted a few other brave (and damp) souls. Two of them were happily chatting while five Westies circled them, sniffing and generally enjoying life in general. The poodles gave them a wide berth…fortunately. I’d hate to think what would happen if they’d all kicked off.

As I passed the two women I remarked that they had a whole world of Westies at their feet and they laughed. It was a litter of puppies. They were ridiculously cute. Not that Carmen and Day-z thought so. Their tails went down and they trotted by as quickly as possible.

It was impossible to take any photos of the park today so here’s a couple from yesterday.

Day-z being unusually obedient on the big log

Mirinda's favourite view in Farnham Park

And finally, our lovely hollyhocks that sit next to Sidney, keeping her company. It should be noted that the hollyhocks happened completely by accident; some random seeds dropped by some random (but clearly artistic) bird…or wind.

Sidney's hollyhocks