An Element of Surprise

  The other day I mentioned that after we had reached the end of our morning run that I took a couple of carrier bags out of the boot and we retraced a little of our route so that I could scoop up some nice fresh horse droppings to use in the garden with the few vegetables that I have grown this year. The vegetable growing was prompted by the panic buying period at the start of the Covid age in the UK, when it was almost impossible to get a delivery slot at all let alone any fresh produce. My husband did not say a word or even give me a funny look and even volunteered to hold one of the bags while I picked up the droppings with the other bag.

We are now enjoying purple mange tout peas at almost every meal time and they have been a delightful addition to any menu. Steve is an imaginative chef and has presented them in a different way almost every time: not just a pile of overcooked mush on the side. We will have runner beans and French dwarf beans any day now and the courgettes are starting to look like the plant in the Little Shop Of Horrors! My daughter sent me some baby lettuce that were the first plants to produce food in the change of garden planning, along with some cut and come again salad pots from her much more orderly garden complete with greenhouse. Grow bags were a further thoughtful surprise gift.

This may not sound that clever to anybody who lives in a house with acres of ground, including a neatly kept vegetable patch larger than a council allotment. However I have a postage stamp garden of 18 x 25 feet that includes a small shed full of bike clutter and garden stuff, then there is the bar-b-q, a garden table and chairs and Steve's upside-down machine and sun bed. The garden is completely enclosed with high walls. At this time of year the space is usually full to bursting point with Geraniums, Petunias, Salvias and Antirrhinums.

Since he is also my triathlon coach, Stephen requires me to ration the garden work so that it does not give rise to back ache or anything that might keep me from training. So when I told him today that I was going out to work in the garden for a while he said "Make sure you have sleeves on if you are messing with the roses again". I told him that I was doing a bit more work on the roses that had made a summer time take-over bid, but that the one thing I wanted to do today was to break down the horse droppings and mash it it up to use, carefully spreading it around the base of the vegetables, particularly the courgettes, and then water it in gently. There was just a hint of amusement in his eyes, then he said firmly "Thirty minutes MAX".

I don't know how long it was before he opened the kitchen door and said "Your time is up, you need to stop now and come in". I grizzled that I had not even watered it in yet but he said that he would do that later.

He was busy on the phone and the computer after I got in, so I went upstairs and did a bit of machining work on a pair of silky summer trousers that I am working on. I have done more sewing in the last four months than I have done in the past four years; fired by the need to keep so busy that I didn't have time to think how dreadful this period of life has been and how damaging to our sports plan and journeys and maybe even our entire future. 

I have been attacking the quite high pile of remnants, that were impulse buy by either me or Stephen's mother when she was alive. We were both frequent visitors to the haberdashers department in what ever town we were in. It turns out to be pretty interesting that I have used up all the pieces of patterned silky material that she bought, since we had totally different feeling for dress code. It has also been a major embroidery time for me and that can be done in the evening while we still have abundant summer light at the windows. 

Our little black cat Birdy has been great company during this time and also an entertainer extraordinaire. She is a great talker and even joins one or the other of us at bath time just sitting on the window sill or on top of the towels and even makes trips around the edge of the bath shouting and complaining to us. She seems to think that bathing is a stupid idea and must be harmful for us.

My friend and hairdresser, who live directly opposite to our home, is getting ready to restart her business as a mobile hairdresser. She usually came to me every six weeks to cut and colour my hair.
My hair is longer now of course after four months and surprisingly now you can see the roots there is still of my old colour there apart from the pure white around my face. I have booked for sometime three or four weeks away if all is well by then or at least improving. I think I feel a change of colour approaching.

This morning it was raining again. We did three different Qigong sessions that we both feel if beneficial to us. Then after a tea break we changed into our bike kit for a turbo training session in our little box room upstairs where our old bikes are left set up ready to use at any time.