Weather: Good
Work: Busy
Visitor: Sarah
Days to holiday: Two
27 August 2003
23 August 2003
:: whew
Twenty minutes to go so it's possibly tempting fate to say so, but tonight at work has gone extremely smoothly. I was anticipating the worst because I had a lot of extra work due to someone being off sick and Fridays can be a bit fractious. But all the copy came in smoothly, there were no dramas or late-breaking stories, and we just about hit the deadline.
Hurrah!
Tomorrow I must really do some gardening -- we've had some rain and it's still warm, so the weeds are growing like weeds. Bertie is also due a walk somewhere fun rather than the boring same-old-same-old walks.
My holiday is starting to take shape. I'm going to Barevan for the first week, then I think I'll spend a few days in Royal Deeside, hillwalking. I've been there before but haven't done any walking. Then a couple of days in Edinburgh packing & organising, and also seeing the fireworks concert -- and then Paris.
Hurrah!
Tomorrow I must really do some gardening -- we've had some rain and it's still warm, so the weeds are growing like weeds. Bertie is also due a walk somewhere fun rather than the boring same-old-same-old walks.
My holiday is starting to take shape. I'm going to Barevan for the first week, then I think I'll spend a few days in Royal Deeside, hillwalking. I've been there before but haven't done any walking. Then a couple of days in Edinburgh packing & organising, and also seeing the fireworks concert -- and then Paris.
21 August 2003
:: ark!
Look what happened yesterday in my street! Terror as lorry crashes into a cottage.
Yikes. It happened at about 3pm, and normally at that time I would have been walking the dog. But yesterday I left home just before then, on foot, because my car was in the garage having its water leak dealt with. Again. So I missed all the excitement.
The poor cottage looks very forlorn -- it's a lovely little stone house, and now has a huge crack down the wall where the lorry hit. The window is boarded up, some of the roof tiles have been broken, and the guttering's been torn off. The solid stone wall at the front was punched right over, down into the garden (the cottage is below the level of the road). I don't know the lady who lives there.
No time to write more, I'm too busy. Tomorrow will be even worse -- I'm tired just thinking about it.
Yikes. It happened at about 3pm, and normally at that time I would have been walking the dog. But yesterday I left home just before then, on foot, because my car was in the garage having its water leak dealt with. Again. So I missed all the excitement.
The poor cottage looks very forlorn -- it's a lovely little stone house, and now has a huge crack down the wall where the lorry hit. The window is boarded up, some of the roof tiles have been broken, and the guttering's been torn off. The solid stone wall at the front was punched right over, down into the garden (the cottage is below the level of the road). I don't know the lady who lives there.
No time to write more, I'm too busy. Tomorrow will be even worse -- I'm tired just thinking about it.
17 August 2003
:: berry nasty accident
Memo to self: a blackberry patch is not a great place to fall over. I was out collecting berries for my breakfast & had pushed into a thicket to get at some particularly juicy fruit. Then I had to get back out. Backwards seemed the most sensible way. But then my sandals snagged on the brambles, and I lost my balance. And of course there's nothing safe to grab in a blackberry patch to break your fall. On the way down I realised Bertie was standing right behind me, and twisted to avoid crushing him, so I fell heavily and awkwardly.
OW!
It was really hard getting back up -- nothing to grab hold of again -- and I was actually bleeding in a couple of places from the thorns. But I didn't drop the berries I'd picked. I had them for breakfast this morning and let me tell you, it was worth the pain.
Last night I went to another Fringe show, Waterwall, by an Italian dance company. It was a bit more gymnastics than dance, but enjoyable all the same. It was set outdoors, in the Old College quad, near where I used to live.
I took some pictures -- not great but I didn't have a tripod.
The dancers hooked themselves on to ropes and swung out through the water -- tricky to catch them.
This bit they were pretend-surfing.
I came closer to the front to take this one.
Afterwards we walked down my old close, and man, I'm glad I don't live there any more. The pub across the close from my old flat is even noisier than I remember, ditto the bar at the top of the close, ditto the one across the Cowgate. The racket was incredible. Three cheers for the suburbs.
And another thing: the Tattoo up at the Castle used to only have fireworks on the late show on Saturday nights; now they have them every night at every show. I saw a couple carrying a traumatised little dog home after the early evening volley of fireworks -- poor animals, they have enough to cope with with Guy Fawkes and New Year. I do wonder too if the amount of fireworks has anything to do with a recent spate of large chunks of masonry falling off Edinburgh buildings. The percussion is quite strong, even half a mile away.
Garden news: Beans! I looked at my runner bean the other day and it had a smattering of tiny mini-beans growing where the flowers had fallen off. Yesterday I looked again and there was an actual bean-sized bean! I picked it and ate it immediately. Mmm. Probably better steamed, but still quite nice.
These pictures are of the bean flowers, I took them last week. You can just about make out the tiny beanlets.
I'm having to water the garden, we've been without rain for so long. I talked to Andrew today and he said things are getting quite desperate on the farm. They have to bucket water from the cottage (which is on mains water) to fill the cattle troughs (spring-fed). The house is on spring water too, so they're being very frugal with it -- Andrew uses his shower water to flush the toilet. I'm kind of hoping it rains before I get up there at the end of the month. Yes, I'm going to the farm! Bertie and I will be there from 31 August to 5 September, when they have a whole family coming to visit. Then we're heading off into the Highlands for a few days of hillwalking etc. Andrew might join us if he gets a chance, but they're in the middle of calving, so maybe not.
What else? Not a lot. Work. Dog-walking.
Oh, I've found a wonderful new cleaning product -- it's fantastic. I use a lot of Ecover products, but this is the best yet. So far I've cleaned all the floors and the bathroom and toilet with it. I makes the house smell of oranges -- real oranges, not pretendy ones.
OW!
It was really hard getting back up -- nothing to grab hold of again -- and I was actually bleeding in a couple of places from the thorns. But I didn't drop the berries I'd picked. I had them for breakfast this morning and let me tell you, it was worth the pain.
Last night I went to another Fringe show, Waterwall, by an Italian dance company. It was a bit more gymnastics than dance, but enjoyable all the same. It was set outdoors, in the Old College quad, near where I used to live.
I took some pictures -- not great but I didn't have a tripod.
The dancers hooked themselves on to ropes and swung out through the water -- tricky to catch them.
This bit they were pretend-surfing.
I came closer to the front to take this one.
Afterwards we walked down my old close, and man, I'm glad I don't live there any more. The pub across the close from my old flat is even noisier than I remember, ditto the bar at the top of the close, ditto the one across the Cowgate. The racket was incredible. Three cheers for the suburbs.
And another thing: the Tattoo up at the Castle used to only have fireworks on the late show on Saturday nights; now they have them every night at every show. I saw a couple carrying a traumatised little dog home after the early evening volley of fireworks -- poor animals, they have enough to cope with with Guy Fawkes and New Year. I do wonder too if the amount of fireworks has anything to do with a recent spate of large chunks of masonry falling off Edinburgh buildings. The percussion is quite strong, even half a mile away.
Garden news: Beans! I looked at my runner bean the other day and it had a smattering of tiny mini-beans growing where the flowers had fallen off. Yesterday I looked again and there was an actual bean-sized bean! I picked it and ate it immediately. Mmm. Probably better steamed, but still quite nice.
These pictures are of the bean flowers, I took them last week. You can just about make out the tiny beanlets.
I'm having to water the garden, we've been without rain for so long. I talked to Andrew today and he said things are getting quite desperate on the farm. They have to bucket water from the cottage (which is on mains water) to fill the cattle troughs (spring-fed). The house is on spring water too, so they're being very frugal with it -- Andrew uses his shower water to flush the toilet. I'm kind of hoping it rains before I get up there at the end of the month. Yes, I'm going to the farm! Bertie and I will be there from 31 August to 5 September, when they have a whole family coming to visit. Then we're heading off into the Highlands for a few days of hillwalking etc. Andrew might join us if he gets a chance, but they're in the middle of calving, so maybe not.
What else? Not a lot. Work. Dog-walking.
Oh, I've found a wonderful new cleaning product -- it's fantastic. I use a lot of Ecover products, but this is the best yet. So far I've cleaned all the floors and the bathroom and toilet with it. I makes the house smell of oranges -- real oranges, not pretendy ones.
16 August 2003
:: on its way out
I checked my easynet email tonight (just to see what new spam was there) and it's dead! The website is still live, but it's just a redirection page anyway. It's a relief I have to say, not to have all that spam to wade through. No spam on my new address, touch wood.
In case you were wondering (hi mum), the bja@hush.com address I've put here is just me being paranoid -- I wasn't sure if I got so much spam via easynet because I put my email address on the blog or not. However, I haven't had any spam at all at my hush.com address (it is a real one -- it's a webmail service), so I might stop being crazy and just put my real address.
In case you were wondering (hi mum), the bja@hush.com address I've put here is just me being paranoid -- I wasn't sure if I got so much spam via easynet because I put my email address on the blog or not. However, I haven't had any spam at all at my hush.com address (it is a real one -- it's a webmail service), so I might stop being crazy and just put my real address.
14 August 2003
:: daze off
I'm in shock, I had two days off from work, two days in a row. It was great. On Monday afternoon I ventured into town -- Festival! Within an hour of arriving I was nearly ready to run back to the suburbs. The heat! The noise! The crowds! The costumes! Aieee! Now I remember why I left my Old Town flat ...
Managed to calm myself down and enjoyed a ramble around my old haunts, then met up with Fiona just as the Tattoo audience started arriving in their massive coaches. They park along both sides of the whole of George IV Bridge and Chambers Street, ghastly.
So Fiona and I had a lovely dinner at Favorit, right next to an open window for a refreshing breeze. Then we met up with Martin outside the show I'd booked for us, Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. It was a good laugh -- old troupers, the pair of them, and Golden did a great Elvis impression.
After that we had a beer at the terrace bar outside the venue ... reeling in shock at discovering that a bottle of Budweiser was £2.95. Eeeek! It was entertaining though -- people on stilts kept trying to persuade us to come to their show. After that we retired to one of my favourite pubs, Sandy Bells. It was packed -- fiddlers were playing at the back -- but we managed to find seats. And astonishingly, we found ourselves sitting next to a man who claimed to be the uncle of one of our colleagues (former colleague, for Fiona and Martin).
I hadn't intended staying out late, but in the event I only just caught the last bus, after battling through the crowds leaving the Tattoo. And who should get on at the next stop but my next-door neighbour! It really is a small town.
Managed to calm myself down and enjoyed a ramble around my old haunts, then met up with Fiona just as the Tattoo audience started arriving in their massive coaches. They park along both sides of the whole of George IV Bridge and Chambers Street, ghastly.
So Fiona and I had a lovely dinner at Favorit, right next to an open window for a refreshing breeze. Then we met up with Martin outside the show I'd booked for us, Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. It was a good laugh -- old troupers, the pair of them, and Golden did a great Elvis impression.
After that we had a beer at the terrace bar outside the venue ... reeling in shock at discovering that a bottle of Budweiser was £2.95. Eeeek! It was entertaining though -- people on stilts kept trying to persuade us to come to their show. After that we retired to one of my favourite pubs, Sandy Bells. It was packed -- fiddlers were playing at the back -- but we managed to find seats. And astonishingly, we found ourselves sitting next to a man who claimed to be the uncle of one of our colleagues (former colleague, for Fiona and Martin).
I hadn't intended staying out late, but in the event I only just caught the last bus, after battling through the crowds leaving the Tattoo. And who should get on at the next stop but my next-door neighbour! It really is a small town.
11 August 2003
:: jam today
First, a cracking front page from the Edinburgh Evening News:
What they mean to say is the binmen, or rubbish collectors, are threatening to go on strike. But my colleagues and I had some fun with scary stories about cycling along the road in the haar and hearing the rumble of a wheelie bin behind you.
Yesterday was the grand finale of Ferry Fair Week, with the crowning of the queen and all, but I didn't attend this year. I walked Bertie past the end of the High Street and that was plenty close enough for him -- children, brass and pipe bands, people dressed up as bears ... aieee! The last stretch of his walk was brisk, to say the least.
So after a delightful morning and afternoon sunning myself -- I spent the whole day in shorts, a first for Edinburgh! -- I left Bertie home and drove off to Chad's place to pick blackcurrants. He and Leslie have a great allotment right by their house, and they share it with just one set of neighbours. I nearly had enough for the jam, got distracted chatting to the neighbours ... and kicked my container over. Then stood in the spilled fruit -- barefoot, of course. Tsk.
On the way home I picked up some sugar. Then had a barbecued dinner: vege kebabs and a steak. Then made jam. It was a success, 12 jars. Quite a mess to clean up though!
Tonight I was working again, but I have tomorrow and Tuesday off. Fiona and I are going to a show tomorrow night, Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. "The dynamic duo of Rock 'n' Droll returns! Owing to Barry's failed pension scheme and repossession of Ronnie's amplifier they've gone acoustic. Thrash metal meets George Formby. 'I laughed incontinently' Michael Billington Guardian". I'm probably going to go into town early and see something else.
Today was Fringe Sunday, there were 200,000 people in Holyrood Park! John at work said he walked through town thinking, oh these poor people crowding everything don't realise there's a free extravaganza in the park. And of course vast crowds did. It's astonishing how many people jam into the city at festival time.
All that depends on me going to bed now ... it's nearly 4am.
Thanks to everyone for your kind words about Pinky's new website! It was fun.
What they mean to say is the binmen, or rubbish collectors, are threatening to go on strike. But my colleagues and I had some fun with scary stories about cycling along the road in the haar and hearing the rumble of a wheelie bin behind you.
Yesterday was the grand finale of Ferry Fair Week, with the crowning of the queen and all, but I didn't attend this year. I walked Bertie past the end of the High Street and that was plenty close enough for him -- children, brass and pipe bands, people dressed up as bears ... aieee! The last stretch of his walk was brisk, to say the least.
So after a delightful morning and afternoon sunning myself -- I spent the whole day in shorts, a first for Edinburgh! -- I left Bertie home and drove off to Chad's place to pick blackcurrants. He and Leslie have a great allotment right by their house, and they share it with just one set of neighbours. I nearly had enough for the jam, got distracted chatting to the neighbours ... and kicked my container over. Then stood in the spilled fruit -- barefoot, of course. Tsk.
On the way home I picked up some sugar. Then had a barbecued dinner: vege kebabs and a steak. Then made jam. It was a success, 12 jars. Quite a mess to clean up though!
Tonight I was working again, but I have tomorrow and Tuesday off. Fiona and I are going to a show tomorrow night, Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. "The dynamic duo of Rock 'n' Droll returns! Owing to Barry's failed pension scheme and repossession of Ronnie's amplifier they've gone acoustic. Thrash metal meets George Formby. 'I laughed incontinently' Michael Billington Guardian". I'm probably going to go into town early and see something else.
Today was Fringe Sunday, there were 200,000 people in Holyrood Park! John at work said he walked through town thinking, oh these poor people crowding everything don't realise there's a free extravaganza in the park. And of course vast crowds did. It's astonishing how many people jam into the city at festival time.
All that depends on me going to bed now ... it's nearly 4am.
Thanks to everyone for your kind words about Pinky's new website! It was fun.
8 August 2003
:: work work work
I was supposed to be off today but here I am at work. There was a crisis, so my colleague John came in at 9am (and stayed until nearly 9pm) and I came in at 4pm. Ish.
I got up early to get Bertie walked while it was still foggy and cooler. Last night the haar was so thick you couldn't see either of the bridges, not even the aircraft warning lights. By this morning it had lifted a bit and by the time I left for work it was brilliant sunny and hot. Sigh. The haar rolled back in at about 6pm or 7pm. Sigh.
Anyway, the walk was great. We went to Bertie's top favourite venue, Braid Hills. He got to bomb around among the trees, paddle in the stream and meet lots of exciting new dogs -- including a couple of totally cute terriers who thought he was the bee's knees. He also had a close encounter with cattle. There's a mob of young cows in the field near the car park, who are now completely used to people and dogs walking past. Bertie gave them a glance but was distracted by a patch of deliciously scented grass. While he was sniffing it, one of the cows crept up and sniffed him. He got such a fright when he turned round and there was a cow inspecting his bottom! They were all staring at him -- I think it's because he's so tall, they thought he might be one of them.
Yesterday was very productive -- I had that off as well, and did all the boring practical things so I'd have Friday free for Fun. Yeah right. Anyway I got stuck into the horrible mess that is the back garden, mowing and strimming and weeding and raking and clipping like a fiend. After a shower and some shopping, I had dinner and then did some dull paperwork and got Pinky's new website up and running on its own domain.
I'll have some fun tomorrow.
I got up early to get Bertie walked while it was still foggy and cooler. Last night the haar was so thick you couldn't see either of the bridges, not even the aircraft warning lights. By this morning it had lifted a bit and by the time I left for work it was brilliant sunny and hot. Sigh. The haar rolled back in at about 6pm or 7pm. Sigh.
Anyway, the walk was great. We went to Bertie's top favourite venue, Braid Hills. He got to bomb around among the trees, paddle in the stream and meet lots of exciting new dogs -- including a couple of totally cute terriers who thought he was the bee's knees. He also had a close encounter with cattle. There's a mob of young cows in the field near the car park, who are now completely used to people and dogs walking past. Bertie gave them a glance but was distracted by a patch of deliciously scented grass. While he was sniffing it, one of the cows crept up and sniffed him. He got such a fright when he turned round and there was a cow inspecting his bottom! They were all staring at him -- I think it's because he's so tall, they thought he might be one of them.
Yesterday was very productive -- I had that off as well, and did all the boring practical things so I'd have Friday free for Fun. Yeah right. Anyway I got stuck into the horrible mess that is the back garden, mowing and strimming and weeding and raking and clipping like a fiend. After a shower and some shopping, I had dinner and then did some dull paperwork and got Pinky's new website up and running on its own domain.
I'll have some fun tomorrow.
5 August 2003
:: creative juices
If you want a really good laugh, go and look at my latest blogging success -- it's taken me nearly a year to work out a way of publishing it!!! The gorgeous design (sit and stare at it for a minute, it does things) isn't mine, by the way, it's courtesy of Eric Costello, a geek god.
The thing is, this blog is all published via and stored on a server in the US. I'd like to have it stored on my own webspace. The shutup blog is a record of my efforts. Tonight, I finally succeeded! I'm as thrilled as a thrilled person. Geektastic!
A lot of the folk who poke fun at blogging mention this as a feature: bloggers always end up writing screeds about the technical side of blogging. We can't help it!
The thing is, this blog is all published via and stored on a server in the US. I'd like to have it stored on my own webspace. The shutup blog is a record of my efforts. Tonight, I finally succeeded! I'm as thrilled as a thrilled person. Geektastic!
A lot of the folk who poke fun at blogging mention this as a feature: bloggers always end up writing screeds about the technical side of blogging. We can't help it!
:: creative juices
If you want a really good laugh, go and look at my latest blogging success -- it's taken me nearly a year to work out a way of publishing it!!! The gorgeous design (sit and stare at it for a minute, it does things) isn't mine, by the way, it's courtesy of Eric Costello, a geek god.
The thing is, this blog is all published via and stored on a server in the US. I'd like to have it stored on my own webspace. The shutup blog is a record of my efforts. Tonight, I finally succeeded! I'm as thrilled as a thrilled person. Geektastic!
A lot of the folk who poke fun at blogging mention this as a feature: bloggers always end up writing screeds about the technical side of blogging. We can't help it!
The thing is, this blog is all published via and stored on a server in the US. I'd like to have it stored on my own webspace. The shutup blog is a record of my efforts. Tonight, I finally succeeded! I'm as thrilled as a thrilled person. Geektastic!
A lot of the folk who poke fun at blogging mention this as a feature: bloggers always end up writing screeds about the technical side of blogging. We can't help it!
:: snaps
Couple of silly pics from recent walks:
Inventor of the cloud chamber! Fantastic. You can make your own cloud chamber, you know. Just be careful ... dry ice and isopropanol can be dangerous.
Short cut! Hurrah! But where will you end up?
Inventor of the cloud chamber! Fantastic. You can make your own cloud chamber, you know. Just be careful ... dry ice and isopropanol can be dangerous.
Short cut! Hurrah! But where will you end up?
4 August 2003
:: drip drip drip
I've got to take my car in to the garage tomorrow, to have the water hose replaced. The water had been disappearing slowly but surely: I got a low coolant warning about once a fortnight (yes, I know, I ignored it as long as I could). So I had the mechanic take a look and sure enough, there's a metal section of hose that was so rusty it was porous.
I was moved to get it fixed finally by hearing what happened to Faye: her hose split without warning, with the result that her car suddenly overheated and the engine seized. She had to get a whole new engine, at enormous expense.
I was moved to get it fixed finally by hearing what happened to Faye: her hose split without warning, with the result that her car suddenly overheated and the engine seized. She had to get a whole new engine, at enormous expense.
3 August 2003
:: garden update
I don't remember if I mentioned my latest purchases, for the front garden: I finally got a philadelphus (mock orange), a dwarf one, and also a bergamot and a geranium, a pretty lavender one. They sat out in the rain in their pots for a week and yesterday I planted them. The poor old daphne is still struggling -- it needs another dousing with sulphate. It's never flowered and always looks as if it's about to die. I may dig it up and transfer it to a pot round the back, where at least the neighbours can't see it. While I was at the garden centre I almost bought a new daphne -- theirs were large and glossily healthy -- but I'm afraid it would catch whatever disease this poor thing has. I should really just give up and burn it.
Also out the front, the rose hedge continues to grow like a creature from outer space -- I've hacked vast quantities off it (and still carry the scars), and of course Rosemary next door also attacked the section that was threatening her visitors, but it is still absolutely enormous. Once its leaves have fallen I'm cutting it right back, to the ground. It's a shame, because it's threaded through with honeysuckle. I'll have to try and preserve that somehow.
The climbing rose is doing splendidly, its flowers are a gorgeous velvety deep red and it's had lots this year. The shrub rose -- argh. Its root stock went crazy this year for some reason -- it was like the rose hedge's mad younger brother, a mass of foliage and white single flowers. The few pink hybrid flowers it produced were sickly-looking things lurking amid the pale riot. I'm tempted to rip the whole thing out and plant something else (maybe a magnolia or a flowering cherry), but I'm not sure how easy that would be. I settled for cutting out as much of the rogue growth as possible -- a wheelie bin full!
The back garden's a wild mess too, but its rose is doing exceptionally well. It was so weedy-looking last year I had plans to dig it up; this year it's flowered long and richly, a lovely splash of colour. It's a sweetheart rose, and the previous owner's daughter had its flowers in her wedding bouquet. Awwww!
The back all needs a bit of TLC, I haven't done any weeding for a while and the humid weather is perfect for weed growth.
I'm very much looking forward to the hedge-trimming exercise: I think I mentioned that Jim next door has a bad neck and can't manage his side of the hedge, so his brother is coming to mow it down to a reasonable height. That will let a lot more light into the garden, and should also improve the lawn. Bertie will also get a better view of whatever it is that fascinates him so much next door.
Speaking of Bertie, he is fine. I was filling his dish yesterday and noticed specks of fresh blood on the floor -- argh! It was just a little cut on his ankle, nothing too serious, so I taped a dressing on. His other cut is healing up fine, as is the wound left by the vet's big bandage on the cut. Such are the joys of having a thin-skinned pet.
Work, work, work! The festival started officially today, with the Festival Cavalcade. Everyone was held up by road closures etc and we had early deadlines. I could moan about how hard it is to concentrate when there's a cocktail party in the same room but I won't. We hit the deadline, that's the main thing.
Also out the front, the rose hedge continues to grow like a creature from outer space -- I've hacked vast quantities off it (and still carry the scars), and of course Rosemary next door also attacked the section that was threatening her visitors, but it is still absolutely enormous. Once its leaves have fallen I'm cutting it right back, to the ground. It's a shame, because it's threaded through with honeysuckle. I'll have to try and preserve that somehow.
The climbing rose is doing splendidly, its flowers are a gorgeous velvety deep red and it's had lots this year. The shrub rose -- argh. Its root stock went crazy this year for some reason -- it was like the rose hedge's mad younger brother, a mass of foliage and white single flowers. The few pink hybrid flowers it produced were sickly-looking things lurking amid the pale riot. I'm tempted to rip the whole thing out and plant something else (maybe a magnolia or a flowering cherry), but I'm not sure how easy that would be. I settled for cutting out as much of the rogue growth as possible -- a wheelie bin full!
The back garden's a wild mess too, but its rose is doing exceptionally well. It was so weedy-looking last year I had plans to dig it up; this year it's flowered long and richly, a lovely splash of colour. It's a sweetheart rose, and the previous owner's daughter had its flowers in her wedding bouquet. Awwww!
The back all needs a bit of TLC, I haven't done any weeding for a while and the humid weather is perfect for weed growth.
I'm very much looking forward to the hedge-trimming exercise: I think I mentioned that Jim next door has a bad neck and can't manage his side of the hedge, so his brother is coming to mow it down to a reasonable height. That will let a lot more light into the garden, and should also improve the lawn. Bertie will also get a better view of whatever it is that fascinates him so much next door.
Speaking of Bertie, he is fine. I was filling his dish yesterday and noticed specks of fresh blood on the floor -- argh! It was just a little cut on his ankle, nothing too serious, so I taped a dressing on. His other cut is healing up fine, as is the wound left by the vet's big bandage on the cut. Such are the joys of having a thin-skinned pet.
Work, work, work! The festival started officially today, with the Festival Cavalcade. Everyone was held up by road closures etc and we had early deadlines. I could moan about how hard it is to concentrate when there's a cocktail party in the same room but I won't. We hit the deadline, that's the main thing.
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