Robert de Niro's waiting...

It was a 1980's party, and we'd thought we'd go as Bananarama but got mistaken for Dexy's Midnight Runners!
I never normally wear make up, so this felt particularly weird to me. However, I felt the dungarees were strangely familiar...Berni & Penny went out to buy theirs specially, mine were already in my wardrobe!

Bad fireworks

I have never really enjoyed fireworks particularly. Apart from a few pleasant childhood memories of standing in the local churchyard with a polystyrene cup buckling under the heat of some tomato soup in my hand, my enjoyment of fireworks has not got much further than twiddling a sparkler or two.
I have always thought that fireworks are selfish as those who are letting them off have no control over who they are exposing to them.
This weekend I have been furious. We have worked really hard with Timmy (our nine year old rescue dog) over the past few months to help him decrease his anxiety levels and have really achieved some great things with him. Bang goes all of that this weekend - literally! He spent Wednesday night shaking after a couple of fireworks were let off outside the house. I had been putting a few drops of Rescue Remedy in his water, but soon realised that this was not enough. So Thursday we went off to the vet and came back with a pheramone collar and some doggy diazepam 'just in case'.
I soon realised that we were going to need the diazepam when he was actually sick with fear on Friday night, so Saturday was spent giving him plenty of exercise during the day and then it took a double dose to get him sufficiently relaxed so he could lie in front of the fire without being too troubled by all the explosions outside.
I remember a few years ago spending bonfire night in Leicester with a friend who had grown up in Derry during the 1970s. Walking back from the pub with him as fireworks were going off around us was the only time that I ever saw him shaken.
I think it is about time that we questioned our right to impose the experience of fireworks on people and animals who have no choice as to whether they want to participate or not.

In the store cupboard

At the end of the marathon session!

Autumn feelings

I got up at 7am and went down to the allotment. The smell of autumn was everywhere - that sense of damp with just a hint of early decay. Every thing looked great despite the fact that I have not been there for two weeks.
Here is my harvest (and yes, I did have to use the dog's car bowl to collect the raspberries and strawberries):

I am now filling the kitchen with autumn smells. The chutney marathon has commenced!

Here it is at the start.

Passing time..

I can not believe how long it is since I last made a posting here. It seems that summer is almost over. I'm sitting here at just after 8pm and it is almost dark outside. I have to confess to being a lover of the autumn and the winter (and spring too) - there is nothing better for me than being wrapped up in woolies, sitting in front of the fire or the log burner after a good walk. High summer is too hot for me, I flag easily and too much heat can actually make me feel quite unwell.
The latter half of this summer has suited me once the heat wave passed. We had a great holiday in Dorset. Whilst it was wet here in Suffolk we enjoyed fine weather to explore Dorset and Somerset.

Here are my boys outside our cottage.

Sunset over the field behind the cottage.

Nigel has a little lie down at an iron age hill fort.

My plan was to get back from holiday and set to the allotment with vigour. However, fifteen minutes after driving for five hours to get home, this silly woman decided to move our bed....felt something rip in my back and spent the rest of the final week off work going between bed, the bath and the living room floor - totally unable to sit down. Nigel though came to my rescue - whilst taking every opportunity to remind me of the self inflicted nature of my injuries - he took himself off to the allotment, dug over my beds and planted my 60 or so leeks. Husband points flowed.

My back is now 90% recovered and we have just spent a fabulous weekend at the wedding of our good friends Berni and Penny. Thanks Girls! It was great.

We left them on Sunday morning and went down to Brighton for a couple of days to catch up with Callie and Alfie.

Alfie's little slug impression.

Alfie popping out!

I finally got off to the allotment last night. I harvested some overgrown courgettes ready for the Glutney making this weekend, and my borlotti beans had dried on the canes, so I now have a fantastic harvest of the beautiful beans. The raspberries I planted the day that Alfie was born are covered in fruit, so I will picking those at the weekend if the birds have not eaten them all.

It feels good to be back - in a physical and emotional sense. Proximity to the soil is definately good for my soul.

Putting my back into it

This morning Nigel banned me from going to the allotment on the basis that I have hurt my back, however I managed to negotiate a 'picking only' trip.
After harvesting the courgettes, french beans and black currants I just couldn't ignore the take over of the brassica patch by weeds so managed to get up quite a lot of them using a bizarre lying on the floor sort of technique to avoid bending. I then took to pulling up the remaining broad bean plants to give on poor struggling courgette some much needed light.
After about ten minutes I had had enough, but this made me realise just how important that allotment patch has become to me. When I was initially considering not going, I felt a genuine sadness - like not being able to get to see a close friend when you have arranged to do so.
Hopefully my back will clear up in a couple of days to enable me to get up to the allotment to tackle the weeds properly as we are off to Dorset next weekend to take Timmy for his first holiday.

Knitted single covers

These are some of the results of our labours for the knitted single covers for our friend, Jason's record label.

It was great fun trying to find wierd and wonderful yearns to knit them up in. I certainly ended up with knitting RSI after a couple of sessions though!

Harvest!

Garlic and peas!

Also mange tout, onions and courgettes. The raspberries are fruiting their little socks off (despite supposedly being an autumn fruiting variety). Every trip to the allotment at the  moment is a tasting session!

In the garden I've got some beautiful french beans which are growing really well. They're grown from some heritage seed that I got given last year. They are said to be purple podded. The flower is the most beautiful and delicate pinky/purple.

It is so incredibly hot but despite the soil being so sandy, everything is thriving well without requiring too much water. A good soaking once or twice a week seems to be absolutely fine at the moment for the plants. Unlike for me, when I feel like I need a good soaking once or twice an hour! Nigel, Timmy and I went down to Southwold this morning to take advantage of the lovely sea breeze and righteous paddling ensued!

Four generations

A small boy joining three generations of formidable women!

Timmy meets the allotment

Today was Timmy's first trip to the allotment. Nigel brought him down after I had spent an hour or so clearing weeds (where had they all come from?!) and planting courgettes. He seemed to like it there.

Next weekend I am taking advantage of the 'special offer' that Nigel gave me as my wedding anniversary present - I have compost bins in urgent need of renovation and replacement with my new compost bin that was one of my birthday presents.

Yesterday Timmy had his first trip to Shingle Street - it met with his approval. We also discovered that he is definitely a water dog after he launched himself into the stinky mud of one of the lagoons there. We had to keep the car windows open on the way home because the smell was so bad!

He wasn't so sure about the sea though. I suspect that he may not have been to the seaside before.
Here are Timmy and Nigel before the entry to the mud.