Tony was up quite early this morning,
as he had to drive to my parents’ house in Kenilworth for the day to fulfill his standby duty for BMed (he has to be within an hour-&-a-half’s travel of Heathrow). As ever, I rose at the same time as him, regardless of the early hour; & took poor Nanuk out for an ’emergency’ walk as judging by her frantic scrabblings she urgently needed the loo (& did she ever – tummy trouble, again unfortunately).
After Tony had left, armed with bottles of goats’ milk, a large box of eggs & the most enormous home-grown cucumber as gifts for Mum, I set to work in the Ffarmyard, tackling the chores with grim enthusiasm as it was unseasonably cold & damp; a thick blanket of ridged grey cloud obscured the sky from horizon to heaven, bathing the musty woods in a dreary halflight which persisted for almost the entire day.
Unwilling to venture out into the staccato showers which drenched the fields I struggled on with the ever-mushrooming mountain of paperwork, occasionally taking advantage of gaps in the rainclouds to work with Nanuk, who (perhaps because of her upset tum)proved particularly challenging today. I sampled a couple of new goats’ cheeses, including a pleasant if slightly chalky brie-type log from Coeur de Lion; & a Welsh garlic & chives soft cheese with a pleasingly tangy bite.
After giving the kids their last feed & putting the hens to bed, disappointed with a paltry (& I suppose poultry – ‘scuse the pun!) four eggs in the nestbox, I took Nanuk for our final walk before receiving a call from Tony who was on his way home having thankfully not been called out. He’d enjoyed a delicious lunch of crab spaghetti; but the family had eventually decided to go out for their evening meal as poor Mum had damaged her hand by trapping it in a car door, a few days ago; subsequently, with her other health problems compounding the situation, she was unable to manage the effort of preparing a three-course meal for four (Peter, my sister’s partner before her death, likes to always come over for his supper on a Thursday). Tony told me Mum shed a few tears at the velvet petals of the beautiful, dark red bloom of the ‘Loving Memory’ rose I’d tucked in her ‘goody’ bag, just before he left; I’m sure my sister would have loved its’ subtle perfume & delicate flower as well.
So, I’ll grab an early night, I think; there’s a long day ahead tomorrow & a lot of cleaning to do before our visitors arrive, not to mention yet another night’s worth of what the animals produce to shovel up for those lovely roses….!!