A lovely Sunday rise

We set off on Sunday late morning from Debdale - I'm not sure if it happens to others, but on this boat there are ALWAYS thousands upon thousands of things that a certain person deems absolutely critical** to being able to move off ... Another certain person has to exercise extreme biting of the tongue and trying not to sigh loudly at the constantly added to list of critical items that are achieved at the rate of snail's pace. Honestly, it's like trying to herd cats when there is only one and it hisses and spits when asked about progress and getting moving...

And that continued yesterday - this time I tried staying in bed till the last minute, but my getting up seems to prompt another brain flurry whereupon another set of tasks are identified that MUST be done.

** I ask you - are these tasks critical to moving the boat?

• tidying the cratch lockers - bagging the fertan, polishes, fabricseal, bagging the seat cushions for the cratch lockers (separate bag of course), stowing the potting mix that was PERFECTLY happy on the roof
• placing everything tidily into the gas locker (spare outside chairs, extra hoses, redundant aerial poles that, according to me,  will come in handy when we have to construct a shade sail, tarps that will come in handy for the same purpose) - karma got him though, as the very next day he had to remove all that bumpf when we had to replace a gas cylinder ...
• collating all his additional pairs of specs (a couple of M&S pairs plus his sunnies and old prescription specs, his magnifying glass and monocular) into one bag and finding the best place for them - I said in the wardrobe; he has negotiated to have them on the dining room table. Makes not much difference as he takes them off and leaves them wherever he happens not to need them anyway. 

It is clear that a certain person is NOT a project manager and has no characteristics, however faint, of such. Parallel processing, critical pathing, JFDI do not enter into the certain person's way of thinking/doing/working. Thank heavens we never worked together in real life, as he (oops, a certain person) would have been the single biggest threat to delivery timeframes and would have received several bollockings and invitations to relocate to an operational role...

AAARRRGGGHHH!!! OK, enough moaning for now ... I DO love him dearly, and he occasionally tries my limited patience sorely!!!

So as I was saying - Sunday was a lovely boating day: sunny and fairly warm, and we had decided that we would be content to moor at the bottom of Foxton Locks if it was heaving with boats all wanting to go up/down the locks.

On the way from Debdale the trees are in a variety of stages of spring - some with blossom, some in leaf and some still thinking about it

I know someone can tell me what this white-flowered tree is. Its perfume is rather heady and it is ubiquitous along the side of the canal.

When we arrived at the bottom of the locks across from Bridge 61 pub, there was no one queuing, - when David went over to check in, we were signalled to go straight in.

He has wound up the paddles and is just tucking the windlass into his belt loop.

The gongoozlers were out in force on the flight, given how lovely a day it was, and we had lots of help from young kids wanting to open and close gates, and all keen to know about the locks and the boat and how long we are over here for each year. It was a very fun ascension of the locks as it was so social. One woman told us her daughter had recently got married on Waiheke Island, others mentioned they had been or wanted to go to NZ.

So once moored at the top near the splendid horse statue, I changed out of my dirty shirt and headed along to the cafe at the top of the locks for icecreams. Very yummy - we each had two scoops, mine were mint and choc chip, and toffee. For David I chose rum and raisin, plus mint and choc chip. We both had a flake in them ... Decadence, but I think David deserved it and I wanted one.

When I got back, David was chatting to a couple from Stoke Newington who had hired a boat from Market Harborough and were moored temporarily in front of us. We had forgotten how much boating you do as a hirer (or if you are Mick and Julia) and David told them they could possibly get to Braunston ... In a phone call later with M&J they said they have done from Debdale to Braunston in 2 days. A tired sigh escaped me then 😏.

Then the Canal Chaplaincy boat moored up in front of us, and the woman complained it had been their worst ever trip up the flight - I asked why, and she said because of all the people. WTF? Que? Isn't the chaplaincy meant to be approachable/pleasant/open? I strongly resent money from my licence fee going to pay them anyway***, and that was only reinforced by that crap attitude!
*** My view is that if boaters need to speak to a pastor/reverend/verger/priest, the cut is always close to villages and every village has a church and there is always a god-botherer nearby for people to talk to. Why do we need to pay for that service that is amply supplied in most communities? AAARRRGGGHHH!!! Please don't get me started!

On to more pleasant people:

Next a family came past - two teenaged girls and their mum and dad. They saw the boat name and exclaimed - 'NZers??' And they are too. Then the woman said to David 'Your face is very familiar to me.' So followed a recap of her places of work. One of which was Learning Media Limited where David worked from prior to its inception (from the Dept of Ed, to the Ministry of Ed to the creation of LML which he helped to establish). Recognition bloomed on both faces and then there was a long discussion of people in common, etc. Colleen and Mark are both working over here and unfortunately, their girls are not really enjoying being here. They are loving the experiences and travels, but are really missing their friends and the beach which they lived very close to - now they live almost in the centre of England, a long way from beaches and an even longer distance from their friends. It's a tough one.

David and I spoke about it later and I asked him how he had coped when they lived in Tanganyika when he was a third and fourth former and had to go to boarding school (12 hours away by bus from where they lived), and was only home for school holidays. He said he was terribly homesick, and each term he made up a calendar grid and marked each day off until he could be home again. And he said he never told his parents how sad he was.

However the over-riding memories that David has about living in the US (when he was 10 his dad was a Fulbright exchange teacher in New Mexico), and Tanganyika and then in Morecambe England (for 6 months over winter) are the ones that formed his character as a man of integrity, compassion and egalitarianism. He KNOWS about white privilege because he saw and experienced it starkly in both the US and Africa, and being the person he was with the parents he had, his eyes were open to others' far less fortunate experience of life.

I don't think he would change any of that because it was so formative, but he certainly remembers the homesickness.

Colleen and I are now fb friends, so David and I are planning on asking them to come for a weekend on the boat - all to add to the girls' pleasurable experiences here in the UK.

After they left for their late picnic lunch, we sat outside with wine.

Clean top, still in my boots, washing hung out (David's work clothes that he had to take off as he stepped into the boat at Debdale and that I put straight into the machine - I am sure the water darkened the canal ...) My wine bottle is balanced in the little table, David's is on the stern - that necessity is a design flaw in the little table - it assumes that a couple drink the same wine. Luke has been requested to take account of that when he produces another table for us.

This photo better shows the table - it is stuck in the ground on a metal spike. I'll take photos another time to give more detail for those who may be keen to replicate it.

And along came Andy and Shelley who had hired a boat before, but he had fallen in - I think that had less to do with the boating than it had to do with his apparently having consumed a bottle of red ... I think they live in Cottesthorpe (?), drink occasionally at Bridge 61, recognised a photo of Mick and Julia (mainly showing their hair), were fun, and I couldn't tempt them to have a glass of wine with us.

Then a younger couple came along and were very interested in our little wine table that we brought over from NZ. (We had bought it at a vineyard in the Hawke's Bay when out for lunch with Janneke and Nico a couple of years ago. When we went back there earlier this year in the motorhome, the man who made them had moved on and was no longer producing them. So I think we need to engage Luke to go into a sideline production business ...) The young man took photos and seemed very keen - we did suggest it was a business opportunity plus a long-standing source of presents for friends and family ... His partner suggested that it could also have a scooped out centre so the bowl of nibbles (see photo) would sit steadily - take note, please, Luke.

Lastly an older guy came by and stopped to chat - he stayed for so long he had to phone his wife to let her know he was OK ...

It was truly a lovely afternoon/evening of social interaction - just what we do this for! Not sure of the motivation of the chaplains, racket, racket ...

Dinner was going to be cheese souffle, but a certain person told me he'd had it twice and didn't really rate it. Mmmm!! Nice to find that out as I am about to put it in the oven. But a late save - we had put some cheese scones from the freezer into the oven to warm as we trundled from Debdale to the bottom of the locks - they had been forgotten in the ascension. So a salad and cheese scones. Weird, but it worked, esp after wine. The cheese souffle lived on and was eaten by me the following evening with a cranberry chutney and a salad from my allotment on the roof - David had hummus and chorizo slices with his allotment salad and was well pleased.

Important news: a new cratch cover and a new tonneau cover for nb Waka Huia

Late last season we had come to the conclusion that we needed a new cratch cover - ours was tatty, torn and impossible to clean thoroughly as the green mold/algae had firmly taken hold. At Kilby Bridge I chatted with a couple moored behind us who had had a new cratch cover made that looked really spiffing, as well as being well-designed for ease of ingress and out-gress. So I got the details of the guy who did it for them, and a few days later I rang and left a message.

He got back to me when we were in Foxton, a couple of days before we were leaving the boat. His over-the-phone estimate shocked me, and only in a good way; so I told him yes, we wanted him to make a cratch cover for Waka Huia. There were two things to do with the timing:

• we were about to head home to NZ for 7 months;
• Mick was going to strip off our current cratch frame and build a new one - therefore the new cratch cover would be a more traditional shape - and Mick wouldn't be doing this until sometime in the New Year.

So fast forward to late April when Mick has constructed and fitted the new cratch frame (plus new front doors, new lockers in the cratch and a cratch table, new flooring in the cratch as well - plus, plus, plus ... He is a gem!)

Contact with the cratch cover man was re-established and he drove down from Birmingham the day before we left for France (subject of a later, yet to be written, out of sequence post) to make a pattern for the cratch cover.

A fair amount of consultation over where we wanted the zips, what shape did we want the openings and the 'windows' to be (who knew that needed to be considered?, but now I look at cratch covers I can see that thought has gone into all of them to a greater or lesser degree ...), what kind of fasteners did we want and which were more effective in which positions.

Early in the piece John reiterated his price, and as the lovely Julia had done a comparison with other boat canopy suppliers around the area, we were delighted (£600 for our guy and £1100 for others). So we asked him would he replace our tonneau cover too. All up, the cost for the cratch cover (£600) and the tonneau cover (£320) came to about £200 less than the price of just a cratch cover from a more local supplier! And what's more, John repaired the tears in our pram cover for free!

How good is that?! His service is excellent, he is very consultative and informative, and he just needs one coffee at lunchtime. Readers, I did try to feed him: cheese scones the first time he came down for the patterning, and tuna mousse and garlic bread for the fitting. But he doesn't eat lunch - and that is his only flaw that I could see ...

Mick and Julia are well impressed (with the workmanship and service - not the no eating lunch charateristic), as are a number of the boaters here in Debdale Wharf Marina.

So, if you are in the market for a new cratch/tonneau/pram cover or seat covers, here are his details:

John Wiper,
John's Boat Canopies
Ph: 0121 686 1888
Mobile: 07837 489 632
email: johnwiper@hotmail.com
website: johnsboatcanopies.co.uk

He is the business!

John fitting the tension strap.

John hammering home the snap fasteners on the tonneau - strong knees. See the cratch table Mick made?

Cratch side 'door' open

Cratch window

David testing where the water falls on the tonneau

And here we are in the UK

The flights were both pretty bumpy and I didn't sleep between Auckland and Shanghai even though I was lying flat in my business class bed. I had expected to see David seated in Premium Economy but he had sneakily sorted out an upgrade for himself. The cheeky b*stard had attempted it first using MY airpoints, but fortunately for him, didn't need to as he had a complementary upgrade voucher. So he was beside me for that first flight. He DID sleep.

When we boarded the Virgin Atlantic flight, (in our proper places: me business class, David Premium Economy, thank you very much), I asked the stewardess if she could put my seat into a bed as soon as the seat belt sign was switched off. She gave me pyjamas to change into, so even before we were due to take off, I was changed ready for sleep. Then the captain announced that we had a potential delay of 4 hours (I kid you not) because the Chinese military had an exercise going on and the airspace over Shanghai was closed. AAARRRGGGHHH!!! At least my seat could recline extensively so I was comfortable. I did wonder what would happen if we had to de-plane though. I didn't look all that elegant in my night attire!

However shortly, the captain informed us that the delay was down to 3 hours, but he was looking to push us up the queue. And then, magic! We were going to be leaving in 10 minutes, and all up the delay was only an hour. Expectations were managed exquisitely, I would have to say!

So no lunch for me, but Lauren saved me a dish of beetroot and feta salad. But as it was bumpy, I gave up trying to sleep and was in time for a full lunch - a yummy chicken dish with scalloped potatoes, but no dessert thank you.

The bumps kept on keeping on and I had pretty much decided that the boat needed to be sold as I couldn't be doing with the discomfort of the journey. Then I thought 'Lorazepam, I have lorazepam which I gather is good for anxiety.' And yes it is, as it stated so on the bottle, as prescribed by my GP for just that purpose. So I broke a 10mg tablet in half and downed it. Anxiety receded very smartly and I slept, in spite of the bumps.

On arriving at Heathrow, we went to collect the rental car and then headed for the hotel. Only an entree for dinner and then bed. The beds at the Premier Inns are very comfortable!

At breakfast, we entertained (or they us) Lesley and her brother William and their foster kid Matthew (who can eat for GB!), and then we were on our way to the Midlands - we were heading for The Bell Inn at Gumley which is the closest pub to Debdale Wharf Marina. A surprise was waiting for David there ...

Dana had organised this wonderful cake for David's birthday. She is an amazing woman.

The grandsons with Karol's two furry kiwis.

Tim and Dana

Mick and Julia on the LHS. It's not visible, but I was on tea instead of chardonnay - I think I would have fallen asleep if alcohol had entered my system!

Tim had been staying on the boat during the previous few nights and had everything switched on, water tank filled, then emptied and flushed, and refilled. He had then gone to Scotland to fetch his boys and bring them and Dana down for the weekend with us.

It was rather chilly when we got to the boat and so no boating was contemplated.

The following morning though we decided that, as it was fine, we would head out for an out and back for a few hours. Tim deemed that only going to Saddington Bends where the first winding hole is, was too short a trip, so we headed further down 5 locks, then turned and came back up them and back to Bridge 70 where we moored.

Karol holding the lamp that we use to illuminate the tunnel wall - it helps being able to see the distance from the sides. The good kid went and retrieved his lifejacket without being asked as soon as we were underway.

Olek was on steering once we were out of the marina. This is his first tunnel and he didn't hit the sides at all!

And out in the countryside

The kids played on their bikes on the wide towpath; Dana, David and I drank wine while Tim went and fetched the car for their trip back to Manchester.

I think we stayed awake about 30 minutes after they left, just long enough to wash the dishes. Well, I know that is what I did, but I have no idea when David came to bed except that he got into bed, then got out again for some reason, and then settled down.

We came the 25 minutes back to the marina on Monday by 9am as we had John Wipers, the cratch cover man (website here) was coming to measure up for a new cover now that Mick has made a new frame.

I was also on a mission to make cheese scones for the guys who work here at the marina - they have been so good and helpful to us over the time we have wintered the boat here, esp last year when they sorted out a faulty weld around the boss (see post here). As I hadn't managed to get to the supermarket before we arrived at the boat, Mick had to bring flour and cheese from Julia's store cupboard ...

We had intended to go shopping that afternoon, but by the time Mick and John left we were both buggered (it's that pesky jet lag!), so went to bed at 2.30ish. And woke properly at about 4.30am, with interludes of wakefulness

• 5.30pm to bring in the washing
• 10.30pm to pee
• 12.30am to turn on the heating and set my phone to charge
• other times to read a couple of pages and drop back to sleep.

Early in the morning, I did venture outside briefly ...

The local spiders are very industrious!

The early mornings are quite autumnal. Hard to see but below the gantry is the dock where the boats get lifetd out.

 
David got out of bed and dressed having had half a shower. He had declared there would be enough water, but no ...

These photos are for The Game of Thrones fans. Never seen an episode myself, but I gather it is quite popular ...

A beautiful paint job done by the owners, both of whom work for John Barnard, an extraordinary boat painter.

Just so you know, any house identified in land agent terms as Lock and Leave is not - here is a list of about 2/3 of the tasks I had to do before we left Waikanae ...

I should have known better

than to let David near sharp knives and screwdrivers ...

Let me explain:

In our house there are two toilets, one is in the bathroom which adjoins the bedroom, and the other is in its own little room with a handbasin. I use the former, and for some reason, David has eschewed that one and uses the latter. Not sure why. In addition, almost all of our guests use the latter. Many of our guests are men - this fact is important.

We each take responsibility for cleaning our 'own' toilet and basin (that also means I get to clean the shower and sweep and wash the floors of both rooms - not sure how that works, but suspect it is more of the domestic blindness that seems to strike some chaps).

Of course, because of aforementioned domestic blindness (previously ably assisted by now removed cataract) I don't leave David's cleaning of his toilet entirely unchecked. I don't want to be embarrassed by guests talking among themselves later about what a poor housekeeper I am when they see that the basin hasn't been properly cleaned or the cistern top wiped in David's toilet, because you know they would blame me ...

So on checking the other day, having removed my toilet seat and cleaned the whole commode and seat and brackets, I decided David's probably needed a thorough clean too, more so than mine, because as I almost the only user, the space behind the seat is unlikely to get messy - after all, no matter how hard I try, I cannot pee backwards and upwards.

The brackets are each covered with a stainless steel sleeve (SSS) that just lifts off. Well, that is the theory. But when the numerous people of a gender that shall remain unidentified use that toilet with gay abandon, blindly oblivious (is that a tautology?) to the splashing created by their full unfettered flow, some splashing of a yellow nature ends up using capillary attraction to seep upwards under the SSS. So said SSS becomes vacumm-sealed against being lifted off.

OK, I thinks to myself, time to break the vacuum. Off I go to get a tiny sharp vegetable parer (fear not, I already had plans to sterilise it). I give it a try, edging it under the SSS and lifting to let some air in, but no joy. In walks husband who declares a bigger knife that is all one piece is needed (i.e. one with an integrated handle). Do I think to myself  'Mmmm, this doesn't sound sensible'?  Mmm yes, I do. Mmm, do I act upon that thought? - No I don't.

So on hearing the immortal words from my husband's mouth 'Who's plucking this chicken?' I walk away. Only to hear a short time later 'Oh f*ck! I didn't mean to do that.'

So, taking that as a cue to come and see what he didn't mean to do but has clearly f*cked up, I make my way, sighing inwardly but loudly, to the area of the f*ck up. And there, wedged tightly under the whole bracket, is the point of the knife. Not the knife itself, you understand, just the point of it.

No, he's not being sick. He's using the knife that is about to lose the whole point of its existence. Why didn't I step in before that point? I ask myself. You can see he's ready to clean though, as the cleaner and cloth are on the windowsill.

'Don't worry' sez he, having quickly recovered his equilibrium and putting a brave front on it 'It was a cheap knife anyway.' That much was true. But that wasn't the f*ck up - the f*ck up was the broken off point jammed under the bracket, with, as the SSS was still in place, there no way to access the bolt to loosen it off and remove the knifepoint.

I don't think I said it, but I was thinking 'Well, mate, you can leave off plucking this chicken right now.' He must have heard me because he said 'Over to you.'

Back came the little vegetable parer, and with careful twists of the back edge of it under various points of the SSS, I managed to let some air under it and pry it loose. Then did the same with the other one. And armed with a philips screwdriver and a pair of long-nosed pliers, I loosened the bolt and removed the knifepoint. Both the knife and its severed point were walked, without protest, to the rubbish bin.

Then I demonstrated to David by dint of dribbling clean water over the brackets, just how mucky they had got and that they needed to be loosened so they could be thoroughly cleaned around and under. And that is when I failed to think 'Mmmm, can he be trusted to do this job without supervision? No, he cannot.' Instead I walked away and left him loosening one of the bracket bolts.

And a few minutes later he comes into me and says 'Well, here is what you don't do.' And in his hand he is holding the bracket and the bolt. And here is an important piece of information - both of our toilets are the ones that are fully enclosed - no pipes showing, no access to the area under the seat - lovely and easy to clean (well, mostly). But what that means of course is that the grommet that the bolt screws into that together hold the bracket on, is inaccessible and has fallen down into the black depths of the toilet enclosed space... AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

So David texts Luke who is away on holiday in the South Island and thinks he is safe from this stuff. But being the kind man he is, Luke phones David and, while I didn't hear the conversation, I did hear David laughing lots. Clearly Luke finds it funny too.

So the next day we head to Mitre10 and buy a pack of toggle bolts. The guy tells us how to use it and to be careful not to lose it down the hole. When we get home, I say to David 'Now, you need to be careful with this. Would you like me to help?'   'Help?' sez he 'No, I'm not doing it. It's over to you.'

So I do, and I managed to drop the little stubby philips screwdriver in the toilet twice, but that was easy enough to retrieve - you just need a mother's attitude of being inured to pee and poo (none of which was there, but we do tend to let our imaginations run riot about the remainder of them, even though several times about one and a half gallons of water has flushed anything away).

It's all sorted and the toilet seat is back on.

The lesson for me is that David can pluck the chicken in future, but my close supervision will be required, especially if it involves knives or bolts with impossible-to-get-at nuts...

And this top (with maps of NZ and kiwis and korus and tikis) is what I was making while David was plucking chickens.  I had to send the photo to Jane who had drafted the pattern for me - now SHE is clever!

And David needed a drink when it was all sorted. At least one thing has been successfully achieved - he had declared earlier that the Baileys needed to be emptied before we leave for the UK: mission accomplished, and all by himself!

Footnote: while we were at Mitre10 David said that he was surprised that I was so forgiving about the whole thing. I told him no forgiveness was needed, my revenge would come with the publishing of this post ... (He is right, I am a bitch ...)

Married to an older man ...

So David is officially old, given he had his 70th birthday on Wednesday 17th, and is now into his eighth decade. Who would have thought way back in 1973 when we first got together that we'd still be married all these years later?

So here is the birthday card I gave him.

And here's wot I writ inside it.

And even though it was his birthday, he got up and made the cup of tea. In part that was because we were leaving at 6am to get a head start on the rush hour traffic into town for an eye check up. But even so, it is one of the reasons I keep him on ...

Almost every year for about the last 20, David has said to me before his birthday that he doesn't want a present. Most years I ignore that and buy him something. Some years I have taken him at his word. BAD mistake, because then what happens is that a couple of months later he remarks that as I didn't get him anything for his birthday, he'd now like this or that technology gizmo, and because he is persuasive (read 'nags and nags and nags and nags') I end up getting him said gizmo.

This year I am not falling for that old chestnut. So this year I gave him a box to open. I said that the contents were not his present, unless he informed me in the next few months that I hadn't got him a present, in which case the contents of the box will be deemed to be his present and he can stop thinking he's getting anything else. If he doesn't decide there's something he really would like for his birthday, then the box contents are not his present.

He seemed to understand the concept, but we shall see.

Anyway, whether they are his presents or not, they did make him laugh.

I read about this game on a blog written by a man whose name I cannot remember but his boat is called Independence. He talked about pub games and this was one of them. I had never heard of it, but I found it and ordered it immediately. I think it is going to be fun ...

And here is the legend for scoring throws. I foresee much hilarity on the boat. Probably as much as when he and I played Battleships and he put his ships on the grid in the lid and wondered why the pegs (that marked my hits on his ships) fell out ...

This apparently also an old pub game. It'll also be a winner with the grandsons.

But this is my favourite!! Obviously an outside game, so to be played on the towpath. David is keen that I have first go. I don't mind getting drenched with cold water (in fact it is a positive boon in the hot weather), so I'll be keen. I anticipate much yelling and shrieking when David or the grandsons get doused.

We had our friend Lynne staying with us and I had told David that the three of us would have a quiet dinner up at the local Cambodian restaurant. He was very happy with that.

So at the appointed time, off we went all set to walk up; but John from next door was heading that way so dropped us off nearby. Along the main street we walked with David making a bee-line for the restaurant. In we go, and there is a table set up for 16 people, and David commented, as we sat at a table for three, that it is a good thing we arrived early, before that crowd gets in.

And then the crowd starts to arrive, and it's all people he knows. In fact it's all good friends of ours. In fact they are all there for his birthday.

He was delighted. But what did he say to me? "This is a lovely surprise, Marilyn. But you are a bitch." I think he meant that I was a bitch for being able to keep it secret. But as most people who know David can tell you, he is oblivious to most clues ...

Down the RHS of the table were Ted, Derek, Gary (obscured), Lynne and Joy B. Down the LHS are Peter, David, and Joy K (both obscured) and me standing, Autry and at the end, Grahame.

At the far end you can see Simon, but Jane and Warren are out of view behind Gary. I am standing talking to Joy K and David is tidying his place setting ...

He does look happy. but I think he's making sure I am not going to do a judo choke hold on him as I have done in the past ...

All in all, a good birthday. I did have to go down to the bottlestore to buy a chardonnay - we took a bottle of bubbles, but it would have looked suspicious carrying two bottles from home, given there were only two of the three originals who actually imbibe ... It was a struggle, but I did manage to complete the chardonnay consumption before we left. Well, it was yummy, which helped me worry it down.

Food things interspersed with garden bits

I have been occupied over the last couple of weeks with tomatoes and plums and feijoas, and in one instance apples, pears and rhubarb. And the corner shelf of the laundry pantry (we have a pantry in the kitchen as well as one in the laundry ...) is full. But feijoa season is well and truly on us and Rachel has brought me four lots so far.

So today I will make some chutney as well as some more feijoa jelly - you can never have too much feijoa jelly (as long as there is cheese, there is a requirement for feijoa jelly, in my view), and I am going to have to give Rachel at least one more jar, because less than 5 hours after giving her a jar (only a small one, Marilyn, she said), she told me she had had some with cheese and then some slathered on a large cracker with peanut butter - she was married to an American, so the jelly and peanut butter is explained, I suppose. But her one jar isn't going to last long, so best I get cooking! ** Change of plan - bugger the chutney - it's more jelly all the way!

On Friday we caught the bus down to Bruce and Gary's place to help celebrate Bruce's 66th birthday with drinks and nibbles from 4pm. I decided to make curry puffs as my contribution - not authentic as they were really just little closed mince pies made with flaky pastry - shop bought of course as puff pastry requires far too much time and patience. They tasted good, but the mix did ooze out a bit. I contemplated not taking them as they weren't perfectly formed, but overcame that thought. I also took a couple of tiny jars of the fruit chutney and the tomato and chilli chutney to serve them with. And they all got eaten, so their appearance (better off the oven tray and in a dish) didn't appear to matter.

Yesterday we had Rob here to do gardening and he performed his usual magic, and because the drought is well and truly over and the weather has been warm as well as wet, everything has taken off in a big way. Four and a half years ago when we first arrived here in Rata Street, we could not see part of our back fence from the back door, and Rob and Luke between them sorted that out, with the removal of a number of trees that had been planted too close together, the removal of 6 woolsacks of wandering willie/tradescanthia and the digging out of several thousand (!) arum and elephant ear lilies. Since then Rob has replanted the area, Luke has installed a grape vine trellis, a concrete tiled pad and a path to the washing line. And everything has flourished (the feijoas haven't fruited but I will forgive them for the moment). And, as is the way in Waikanae, everything that has dropped seeds has little babies growing. The list includes but is not limited to:

• the strawberry tree - the main one is about 20 feet tall now and severely trimmed back by Rob and Luke as it was overhanging the house. It took a year off from flowering while it recovered but is back in business feeding the tui on its berries, and they are doing their job of pooping the digested berries down on  to the washing line area ...
• the tree fuschia - Rob pruned the main one to death by accident, but that didn't stop its previous production and yesterday he removed a seedling 3 foot tall from the vegetable box, another one that was 5 foot tall from by the back fence (and overshadowing the plumbago) and 5 or 6 baby ones that were hiding in plain sight. One of them has been moved over to a convenient gap by the camellias.
• foxgloves - baby plants are all over the place - yay!!
• lilies - gggrrr!!!

Rob's partner Brian came and joined us for dinner and I cooked a spatchcocked chicken that had been marinated in lemon and herbs (by the local butcher), we had scalloped potatoes, coleslaw with vinaigrette, and beetroot and carrot salad.

David and I love beetroot and carrot salad, which we have only just been introduced to. When we were in Tauranga a few weeks ago, Pauline made it and it was so simple and yummy. When I came to make it at home a couple of weeks ago, having found a forgotten crop of beetroot in the vegetable box, I couldn't remember what dressing she used so I looked up recipes online, but they all had multiple ingredients. And then I remembered that Pauline just uses white balsamic vinegar. I don't have any white balsamic, so have used the dark stuff and it tastes just as great.

If you are interested, here is what the salad has:

• about equal quantities of grated raw (peeled) beetroot and grated raw carrot
• a handful of sultanas or raisins
• some crumbled or cubed feta
• some pan-toasted slivered almonds or walnuts (most recipes call for the latter, but I prefer almonds)
• A Jamie Oliver style drizzle of balsamic, i.e. a drenching ... Add more if it seems too dry.

I grated the beetroot and carrot, added the sultanas and feta, poured on the balsamic and left the almonds to be added just before serving so they don't sog.

I have seen recipes with mint as well, and I will give that a go next time, as mint has a lovely freshness and zing.

ALL of the beetroot and carrot salad went last night - Rob boldly had seconds (David was out of the room). So I can see this is going to be added to the menu for the Mid Summer Kiwi Christmas on the cut - somewhere on the Oxford I think.

Is that OK by you, Julia? I will still do the kumara and orange salad, fear not!

The David Drama - Series 1, Episode 2

So on Wednesday we went back to the public hospital to see about getting David's left eye sorted.

Given the rush hour nature of our journey and the multiple roadworks on the way and the inevitable slowing of traffic when two lanes merge into one at various places and the townships on the way, we left at 7.10am for a 63km trip for a loose appointment (turn up mid morning the doc said that we had determined meant 9.30am). And we wanted to have breakfast before his appointment. (Yummy, at Columbus Coffee downstairs in the same building as the Countdown supermarket - I went there on 2nd April while David was having his right eye cataract removed.)

It was 9am by the time we parked in the hospital carpark, so 1 hour 50 minutes for 63 kms - we both expressed our pleasure at not having to do that trip twice a day as worker bees. There are definite perks to being retired and/or being able to work from home.

I'd have to say that the service at the Eye Clinic in Wellington Hospital is stellar.

Ginny, the nurse, came and got us within 10 minutes or so of arriving. She checked what David could see of the eye chart in each eye, and through a pin hole lens as well. The right eye had distinctly improved, and the left eye was still useless - not surprising as its pupil is dilated with drops and has been since the drama began.

The pressure in his left eye was about 14, which was very acceptable. In his right eye it was up to 32, I think. Apparently that is expected because of the drops that are still being used.

A bit of a wait for Keith who had people stacked up outside his room, but it was bearable - I was reading/sudoko-ing and David was watching downloaded Netflix stuff** on the iPad. Not sure what else he saw but it had lots of shouting and loud music effects - I could hear some of it outside his earphones ...

Keith was happy with the eye pressures, but concerned about the blood vessels on the left iris that shouldn't be there, but have developed since 2 April. He said it would be unwise to remove the cataract at this point, because it could cause other more serious problems. I looked up (as you do) what I think he said and found, after google corrected my spelling, ischemia. It looks nasty. If that's what it is we choose 'no thanks'.

So the upshot is:

• no cataract removal until after we come back from the UK 
• additional drops for the left eye with enough prescribed for 3 months
• an additional set of drops for the right eye to assist with bringing down the pressure
• a check up with Zak next Wednesday
• a check up with Keith the following Wednesday, the day before we leave for the UK
• a letter and a recommendation of who to see in the UK if problems occur.

So now the eye drop regime takes twice as long but is only occurring 3 times a day rather than four.

Both eyes are feeliing pretty good. And after the initial disappointment at not having it all sorted, David is fine. We are both very confident in Keith.






** He watched one episode of Afterlife - with Ricky Gervais. I binge-watched it a couple of weeks ago and really enjoyed it. So if you are subscribed to Netflix, check it out.