ramblin’ – Page 3 – EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 19

It feels to me that any period of hot weather lasting more than a couple of days invites comparisons to the summer of 1976—six weeks of unbroken sunshine, leading to drought so bad that domestic water supplies were restricted and, in some places, people were forced to rely on public standpipes. I was nine, and remember little of the obvious problems. It just seemed like a nice time to hang out in trees and eat ice lollies.

The point about 1976 was how unusual it was, especially for us Brits who see any two-day stretch of sunshine as manna from heaven. That’s already changing. Records for dry and wet weather are broken every year. I hope we don’t see another 1976, but I can’t say I’d be surprised by a summer where we have to queue in the streets with buckets for the morning cup of tea.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 18

A week full of drama and astonishing changes in fortune, none of which I can sensibly talk about in a public-facing forum. That sounds like a big fat tease, I know, and I hesitate to even mention it. But at least I’m entering the weekend in a slightly more stable frame of mind than on Monday night. The garden, as ever, remains a place to regain perspective and get grounded. I pulled a handful of gherkins from the plants this week, and the squashes we planted last Saturday are already shouldering up out of the bed. Now those are events I’m happy to celebrate loudly.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 17

We’ve finally hit a point in the garden where most of the heavy work is done and we can relax into the space a little. We’ve spent an awful lot of time, energy and yes, money, to get here. I shudder to think how much we’ve coughed up just for compost. But it’s worth every penny and bead of sweat to sit out at the end of a hard day in the sunshine, watching bees and butterflies hover and swoop, jackdaws and blue tits hop around the feeders while red kites make bombing runs overhead. The garden kept us sane over lockdown. Now, in an ever more lunatic world, it’s a truly safe space.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Fire in The Hills

I believe that human ingenuity is only matched by the equally human capacity for cruelty. Think about what we have achieved over the millennia—the great works, the stunning, almost incomprehensible technological leaps. Then think about how they were achieved, and the terrible choices we made to enable that progress.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 16

We’ve been on us holidays. Still unpacking, both mentally and physically. There will be more about the whole experience next week in a diversion from the norm. But today here’s your expected slumgullion of goods and services.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 15

A real Jeckll-and-Hyde week. On Saturday I started feeling unwell—a killer combo of aches, shivers and hot flushes which rendered me horizontal and housebound until Wednesday. Once I was back on my feet, I had to negociate three days of social activity, including a trip to Oxford to see The Waterboys—of which much more next week. It would have been very easy to cry off on the extrovert duties—I had a great excuse, after all. I’m pretty sure I was no longer a carrier for whatever hit me at that point, but folks would have understood. For once, though, I felt I needed to be out and amongst friends. And you know what, I think it really helped in the recovery process. My hermit tendencies are strong. I need to not let them take over.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 14

I think I have to make a deal over Eurovision this year. I love the songs, the manic vibe, the surreal quality of the whole big-tent circus. But once the songs are done and the judging machine grinds into life—well, I lose interest rapidly. I know C feels the same way—she’s talking about giving the whole thing a miss this year. So, we’ll see. I suspect we’ll watch the performances and find out who won the following morning. Rooting for the UK of course (What The Hell Just Happened? has strong musical theatre vibes which may help it out) but I’ll tag my personal choice below.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 13

All of a sudden, I’m playing catchup to my salad and spinach from the garden. The good green stuff is constantly in need of cutting and eating. Not a bad thing, of course—C and I are filled with fibre, vitamins and iron. And an armful of spinach melts to a few spoonfuls of concentrated goodness in a hot pan. I just wish the same could be said for my cucumbers and tomatoes, which are taking their own sweet time. Yes, I know it’s only May but still.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 12

Susie Dent says: ”Word of the day is ‘forswunk’ (13th century): exhausted from too much work. I like to think that ‘foreswunk’ is to be exhausted before you even begin.”

Your umble author is well and truly forswunk, it’s been a wild week. Therefore a slightly foreshortened chapter this week, with a hopeful long weekend ahead. I shall be laying a concrete patio. Pray for me.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 11

As we slide into May, all the hard work C and I have put in at Copse End over the last six months is starting to pay off. Most of the new beds are in, dug and planted. There is one big path up the whole length of the garden now from the back door to Gwen’s Den, dozens of stepping stones in a long undulating line. House Beast Millie approves, marching up and down her territory like the boss she is, big fluffy tail held high.

It’s growing season. Lots of the plants we started from seed in the new year are ready to harden off before their final destination. My trug of salad leaves and radishes is romping away, and the chard, fennel and spinach up top looks very promising. The apple and cherry trees are in bloom, all candy pink and floss-white.

Speaking of which, the annual confetti-fest from next door has arrived. A huge old apple tree looms over the top of the garden and creates giant puffballs of blossom. The windy weather shakes it all onto our patio. It looks like the aftermath of a particularly camp wedding.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.