I acquired my gourds and I put them outside. I stepped backwards to admire my work and fell off the step, twisted my ankle and landed on my bottom. You will be pleased to hear that there was no lasting injury other than to my dignity.
*May I yet again recommend this article?
Our three apple trees have had a productive year. Again. I am exhausted from my jelly making efforts and out of jars but still the apples come.
We had two men cutting back in our garden all day yesterday. They did a bit of a radical job but it can grow back over the next 12 months. I regret my lilac which they cut within an inch of its life last year. It grew back but, understandably, didn’t produce any flowers. “Next year,” thought I to myself. Alas, I didn’t single it out for protection and it has, yet again, been scalped.
Youngest child, who daily grows more like my father (who gave us the title of this post – it was what he always said gloomily when hedge clipping was imminent), says that it is awful when the garden is shorn but without the intervention of these men, I honestly think we might be fully overwhelmed.
Here’s the before.
And here’s the after. It actually doesn’t look that different in the photo but you will have to take my word for it that this is a radical change.
I went out for lunch during the week to a trendy cafe. I was alone – just me and the previous day’s paper. I ordered the Turkish eggs with curried cauliflower (see, trendy). It came and I started eating while reading the paper. There seemed to be a lot of cauliflower. I summoned the waiter. “Um, my Turkish eggs have no eggs.” “REALLY?” he yelped. He inspected. They have a new chef apparently. That is all.
I wouldn’t be a big fan of boxing as a sport but even I was aware that Katie Taylor, Irish boxing champion was having her final bout in Croke Park last night. The papers were full of it. By all accounts, as well as being a great boxer she is a very inspiring and worthy person. She did some kind of warm up session in Dublin City University (extensively covered) and did her weigh in in Trinity College (ditto). The French embassy cultural newsletter to which I am a subscriber told me about her French opponent. The neighbourhood whatsapp group gave a blow by blow account of her prowess last night (she won). The fight was on in every pub in the city. But I have to say, most surprising of all was mass this morning where we prayed for her to have a good retirement during the prayers of the faithful. Everyone’s jumping on her bandwagon.
I met middle child and Mr. Waffle for lunch today in a café where I have been going for many, many years. I used to work near there and go there a fair bit but I work in a different part of town now and go much less frequently. Middle child had never been there – as Mr. Waffle said, they have anti-student prices – but enjoyed it. Both of my lunching partners were surprised to see one of the waitresses surge out from behind the counter and embrace me saying, “We haven’t seen you in ages.” I was a little surprised myself but gratified. “I have been here 19 years today and I remember you coming in when I started working here,” she said. When it came to time to leave she whispered to me, “Open your bag; we made extra scones today and I will give four to you”.
I remember once years ago at a slightly low point they gave me free cake. I tell you, loyalty has its privileges.