I'm still struggling to get my head around the idea that jam will be the great British export that saves us after Brexit, especially as much of the EU seems to export more than we do. But on the theme of things to spread on toast, what about honey? What could be more natural?
We know that Summer is over when the cats come indoors, find themselves a warm spot, preferably inside a cardboard box, and Mr Cat moves into our bedroom. They've been indoors now for at least three weeks and the late resurgence of Summer I had hoped for has not materialised.
It's been raining a lot too and the daily chore of watering the vegetable garden every day is becoming a vague memory. The plants in the greenhouse are taking less water now, which is fortunate because with the cooler, damp and rainy weather I am tending to forget that they need watering. The tomato plants are still producing plenty of tomatoes for harvesting every day but the aubergines turned from raging success into a bit of a nightmare. Within a week of the weather changing they started to lose fruits and flowers and close inspection revealed a multitude of bugs had descended upon them. Now the daily chore is bug busting. Spraying with soapy water and physically removing bugs from the leaves.
Fortunately the first bug
...What has happened to the year? October and already too dark to walk the lanes after work without a torch. But my retirement day is fast approaching, then the day light hours will be mine. It is a strange thought. Since I was five years old, apart from holidays, someone else has been determining what I spent my daytime doing. Now 56 years later I am looking forward to owning my own time.
The extent of my new world.
It's purely arbitrary but I've chosen a radius of ten miles for this project. Let's imagine that the strongly controlled borders of my new world are a mere ten miles from the spot to which I am now rooted.
Now Boris Johnson is off to find a ditch we may still have time to finish upgrading the insulation and replacing the storage floor in our loft before he delivers Brexit, although personally I hope he never does.
"It's warm in the sun," declared the Webmaster, 'but I don't want to go walking through bogs."
"Where do you mean?"
"Well the route you picked last Sunday."
"With all the rain, everywhere will be boggy unless we stick to the roads. Why don't we do the Tongue Lane route and extend it out to Broad Lane. There aren't many stiles so it will be a bit easier for the Old Dog."
"You just want to see if the road has been properly fixed", accused the Webmaster, refering to an email he received from the council a couple of days ago reporting that they had completed the repairs to the pot hole he reported.
The sunset is spectacular. A large, thin, flat layer of rippled cloud, as though made by waves on a beach, lit, apparently from below, with the red glow from the sinking sun. Orange, red and pink light reflects back down to us. The sun itself, visible below the clouds, silhouetting the the folly at the high point of the ridge and casting a red glow over the fields. But it is sinking fast and soon there are only a few red streaks of light remaining.
My husband is getting fed up with beans, although for now think I've calmed him down a bit, at least he is still cooking them every day. I've insisted he be patient and stop talking down the independence my retirement has brought us. I've assured him that the broad beans and runner beans we have planted will be much better than those we eat now.
Both dogs are dashing about in an excited state. They know we will be setting out on our Sunday morning walk soon. They missed their long walk yesterday and only got to dash round their usual weekday route because we were going out for the day. Now they are circling the furniture and following us up and down stairs as though to prevent us leaving without them. They do this every weekend. They must know when it is the weekend.
"Sit. SIT!" the Webmaster is trying to calm the Young Dog. "Are you ready?"
"I can hear a cat" said the Webmaster as we walked past the neighbour's farm gate. Their dog was nowhere to be seen. It must be in the shed eating its supper.
A thin cat, mewing loudly, appears out of the gloom and squezes herself under the bottom bar of the gate.
"It's Mrs. Cat. She's got a mouse. She's going to follow us to give us the mouse."
"The fog's cleared. We wouldn't have had this sunshine if we'd come out at our usual time."
"Tell that to the dogs. They've been waiting so long they'd almost given up," moaned the Webmaster.
"You asked me to look at the photo display code your dad sent."
"Yeah, well, I'm sure he'll like what you've done."
Matilda the Dog, a border collie commonly known as Tilly was born in March 2003 and died on 7th January 2019. She features as the icon of The Sticks in the page tabs.
Tilly was the daughter of working sheep dogs and in her early years she showed her natural tendencies to herding: sheep, children, balls. She learned quickly and soon developed a naughty streak.
The webmaster is Tony, the ugly mug in the photo. In keeping with the best he has chosen a picture that is at least 10 years old. He will be putting more in this section of the site, but he is better at the technology than the content!
In the meantime you can follow him on Twitter and read about him in the Walk and Talk blogs in which he takes a staring role.
"If we go now we'll just catch the last glimmers of sun."
"First evening walk after the hour changed. It was still light at this time last Thursday. Soon it will be completely dark before we can set off."
"Maybe we should stop for the winter, it isn't as though we can see anything."
"We need some fresh air and exercise, and we might see badgers or bats or owls."
"It's going to be dark soon," warned the Webmaster. It is mid afternoon and the dogs have settled down. They have given up on the idea of a walk to day.
"I'm coming now. That was my Dad phoning back about their website. He says their webmaster will call you later to find out what we did, and he asked if we wanted the £300. I told him 'no', we'd do it this once for free."
"Will we be OK with out the torches?"
"Should be if we just do the short route."
The Young Dog, Cody, was born in about 2012. We are not entirely sure of his age or breed. He is a rescue dog. He was described as a cross between a German shepherd and a huskey and his age was estimated at about 18 months old when we got him from Moorlands Dog Rescue in 2014. We decided to get another rescue dog after Flash, a dog we inherited died.
He is a very friendly, boisterous dog but he can sometimes fret. And when he first arrived he couldn't be left alone. At night, or even if left in one room while we were in another, he chewed his way through everything from furniture to underware, high-tech products to shoes.
Cody is fascinated by The Cats. He will sit for hours watching them but he doesn't seem to intend any harm even though he will chase them. Mr and Mrs Cat ignore him but the two Fluffy Cats try to avoid him.
"The clouds are the same type as when we had the spectacular sunset last week."
"I can't see the sun at all or any sign of a sunset."
"The clouds are too thick. It is up there behind the murky clouds." The Webmaster waved his arm in the general direction of the sun.
"It's come up in California. I saw it in the sun rise photographs from the Student's early morning hike."
Boundless Optimism
Thanks go to John Redwood and his supporters for providing the inspiration for my Rooted to the Spot Article of the week. He tweeted that the Treasury needed to have more "optimistic, realistic forecasts" about impact of Brexit. This must be one of the best for pushing the idea that all we need is more optimism.
The Old Dog's seasonal best
The Old Dog (pictured above) is taking longer and longer on her daily walk. She is nearly 15 years old and although she is still keen and eager to go out and starts off at a lively trot she soon slows down to a very, ve..ery slow plod.
Independence preparations gain pace
With only four weeks to go before "Independence Day" my Brexit themed preparations for retirement are gathering pace.
As I have previously mentioned the cushy number of "easy" money from forty years of employment has resulted in a lazy attitude here at The Sticks. Things were ignored: the garden, the decoration, even myself. I was substituting the challenges and achievements at work for developments in my own enterprise. While I had money coming in I could afford to let others do the work. I imported labour to the Sticks without stopping to think of how it was undermining my own competences.