Blue Witch

From warm to cold

Heating oil price is up again to 142.20ppl today.

That is ridiculous given that petrol is 135.9ppl and a lot of that price is fuel duty and 20% VAT, whereas only 5% of the heating oil price is VAT.

Boiler Juice have answered the obvious question, Why doesn’t heating oil move in line with crude oil or petrol prices?

"Heating oil prices do not always rise or fall at the same rate as petrol, diesel, or crude oil. The delivered price of heating oil includes several additional factors, such as:

Because the heating oil market is more localised and less standardised than petrol, prices can move faster or appear more volatile."

Yeah yeah, if you say so. We never buy from Boiler Juice (although it's the easiest site for checking prices), not least because they charge a £12.99 service charge on every order, no matter what size. We are part of a local group who place an order on the last Friday of the month and generally get a better price than I, as an individual, can We did feel sorry for the new-to-the-area person who last month wondered aloud if he could place less than the minimum order of 500 litres because he didn't have the money to pay for that amount. I guess he's very cold right now.

We have discovered that, at this time of year, our now super-insulated house (well, as far as we can be in a property made of stone with its origins in the 17th century) can maintain a temperature of 17°C at this time of year, despite an outside temperature of 6°C maximum, given that the Aga is in the central part (that's not going off), and provided we have the wood burner alight down the far end. That is more than acceptable.

After a few days of warm weather, including glorious sun and 18 degrees yesterday, it was around zero overnight with flurries of snow (which didn't settle) this morning. We could see snow on the other (north) side of the valley (about 30 miles away), which is a hundred or so feet higher than us, until late afternoon.

First snowdrops appeared here on 21st January. First Iris Reticula soon after, first crocuses last week, and the first daffodils at the beginning of this week And, exactly a year after the first paths were cut in the orchard by Vroom Vroom, the (then) new ride-on lawn mower, I re-cut those paths yesterday. Let's gloss over how I got VV stuck in the b33 enclosure, so that Mr BW had to remove the grass box and then lift it round so that I could get it back out. Oops. Luckily those b33s flying were in a good mood and didn't give me any trouble.

Shep and I are having a competition to see who is most lacking in energy this week. I'm not sure who is winning.

Up up up

Heating oil is 134.90 pence per litre this morning. Up from 57.00 pence per litre two weeks ago.

Right, the central heating is already off, but water heating now changes to electric for a while at The Coven. Thank goodness we have a huge wood pile (the old roof timbers) and are on a fixed price electric tariff until November.

We were planning to have a week in the Scottish Highlands at the end of the month. I think that's getting cancelled now, as, even from here, it is a 500 mile round trip, and fuel stations are few and far between and may not have fuel by then. I wonder how delivery companies are going to cope?

We haven't been out to know if petrol and diesel have gone up in price at the pumps. The internet says that petrol is averaging 132.9ppl, but that seems like last week's price (plus much of the price of petrol is tax anyway). Maybe it's just the heating oil suppliers who are profiteering?

Tuesday

Lovely and sunny and warm here today - which is just as well as the heating oil price has gone up from 57.0ppl a week ago to 61.0ppl last Friday to an unbelievable 102.18ppl today! Time to turn off the heating methinks.

Shep doesn't have any interest in sheep, or rounding things up, unlike any collie I have ever met.

Marching on

We managed to see Neptune Uranus and the Orion Nebula through The Big Telescope on Saturday night. Unfortunately the 4 planets meant to be visible in alignment on the western horizon proved invisible behind the only cloud - a low band.

Today we had to take Mr BW's Broom (one year and one day old) for its first service. "Do you like it?" asked the service desk woman. "No, I hate it, it's too bossy in its on-screen messaging, you can't turn the so-called lane assist off permanently, and if you play with the radio's tuning from the passenger seat it tells you to keep your eyes on the road and locks the radio until you stop, turn off the engine, get out, lock it, wait 5 minutes, then get back in again."

I suspect that all modern cars are as bad though. Thank goodness for the simpler cars of yesteryear. Mi1dred is 93 in a few months' time. We've just bought her 5 new tyres as the ones she has on are about 40 years old. Fitting those will keep Mr BW occupied for a few days. Given that he has 10 tonnes of 20mm gravel (or 'stone' as they call it in these parts) delivered last week, to move, by the wheelbarrow, round to behind the Big Greenhouse (to tidy that area up), he probably isn't short of things to do.

We went to a couple of seasides on our way to the service garage. We are slowly discovering all the lovely small beaches that most people never find. Luckily we didn't take Shep (as he was feeling quite fragile) as we might have felt the need to put him in the new doggy launderette. Do watch the short video in that link. It is hilarious - and probably not for the intended reasons.

Nine quid for a 10 minute DIY dog hosedown on the seafront. Sheesh. Mind you, I can see stag parties finding this a fun thing to do.

A quick post before February is out

I have been hibernating.

Not since 2011 has the winter seemed so long, so bleak, so grey, so wet, and so dismal.

From 2012 to 2020 we spent an increasing amount of time during The Dark Weeks in South Africa, then we were busy doing renovations and extensions up north, and finally (in autumn 2024) finishing relocating, so this is the first year for 13 years that we have had nothing major going on at this time of year to distract us. I did not enjoy it.

We have occasionally ventured out to collect glass (beautiful remnants of the north's industrial past), on beaches, from junk shops and from auctions. And we've been making our own marbles to make up for the lost ones.

Mr BW is currently outside triangulating his new all-singing all-dancing auto-finding, auto-tracking telescope - which arrived on 18th January - to see tonight's planetary alignment. This is only the third night in the last 6 weeks that the skies have been clear enough to see anything.

The amaryllis (*nods down*) has only just finished flowering. 5 blooms on one stalk and one on another. 2 months. Must be a record.

We have also adopted a dog. An old collie, that I found sadly abandoned in a cardboard box in a big shed. Mr BW has named it Shep.

The Amaryllis returns

Last year we had the most amazing double red amaryllis that flowered and flowered with multiple heads on multiple flower spikes for weeks and weeks.

Mr BW decided to see if he could feed it up and get it to return this year. We've half-heartedly tried in the past, but never succeeded, whereas my Grandmother somehow always managed to make them flower year after year.

Today it proved that enough nurturing can pay dividends:

Happy New Year!

It being 1st January, it was time to take Mi1dred out for a run. This was a traditional pastime down South, and old habits die hard.

It was very cold (3 or 4°C), but no frost, and the roads were dry and hadn't been gritted for a while, so probably the best conditions available for the foreseeable, judging by the weather forecast, which is for it getting colder, snowier and rainier.

We wrapped up warmly and headed for the river, because it is too far for Mi1dred to go to the sea in wintertime. I wanted to take a photo of my latest blanket - this time in my 'Beach' colourway - for use in the not-a-conservatory in colder weather. Well, everyone else takes that sort of picture these days, so why shouldn't I? The river had to do when the real by-the-coast-beach was too far.

Mr BW scrambled down the bank to stage it, and, as Mi1dred definitely can't go as fast as the river, was ready to jump in after it if the wind carried it away. Well, he probably wasn't, but where's the story in that?

Mi1dred posed on the bridge:

That isn't a pond on the right in the picture below, it's a big puddle, caused by lots of rain in the first 3 weeks of December. The puddle is also visible on the left, but not, for once, on the road.

Home to mulled wine - because we had an awful bottle of undrinkable Californian red that needed to be used for something. Once a year is enough - I don't think we had any at all last year. There are definitely other festive foods that I no longer like: mince pies and brandy butter, so I didn't make any, just as I no longer make festive cake or festive pudding. I actually think we eat and drink less in the last week of December than we do the rest of the time.

Talking of time, I have no idea where the days between 25th and today went. I went to sleep soon after George got beaten up last night (although it wasn't clear to us at the time that that was what had happened, particularly after the way it was trailed in the Radio Times, despite listening to it twice), but I did wake up at 11pm and then at 11.57pm last night. And then went straight back to sleep.

We watched 'Love Actually' for the first time in ages yesterday afternoon. Actually, probably only for the second time ever. I thought that we originally saw it on a plane, but I doubt they could have cleaned up the language enough for that, so maybe not.

Do they even make sweet films like that any more? If you know of any, do tell. I just can't cope with the murders and violence that seem to pervade screens these days.

We wish you all a Happy New Year, and thank you for reading and commenting, even if I don't post as frequently as I used to.

Once Upon a Time in Space

We (that is the Royal 'We') record interesting TV programmes to watch at times of the year when we are less busy. Now, for instance.

We've been watching a fascinating 4-part series about the space programme - both from an American and from a Russian perspective. Of course, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the perspectives are quite different.

If you like space and human stories and have a spare 4 hours, I can highly recommend this mini-series. It was first shown at the end of October 2025 and is a joint production between the BBC and the Open University.

But hurry, it's only on i-Player for another 6 days - although in another place it says it's available for 9 months...

It doesn't seem to be available outside the UK yet, but as it's a BBC production, it might soon be bought by commercial networks around the world. But, for now, the accompanying booklet produced by the OU is available here (although that doesn't bear a lot of resemblance to the series!),

Sunday 28th

There is a trailer wheel in my craft room.

Next thing there will be a Mi1dred engine in my kitchen.

What did you do on FOTCR™ day?

I spent an hour before dinner digging thistles out of the orchard.

This is a job that has to be done while all the grass is short (so, only in winter, as the rest of the year it is uncut wildflower meadow with paths), while the ground is wet but not frozen, while the thistles are still relatively small, and which had been at the top of my 'To Do' list for weeks.

There was 5kg, or over 20 litres worth, in total. It's a pity I don't have any good recipes for them.

Mr BW was concerned that the brussels sprouts weren't up to much, but the unseasonably warm weather in the past month brought on just enough for our festive dinner.

As an experiment, he also planted some mange tout in the greenhouse in September, and there were some of those ready too, and a couple of dozen more flowers, so promise of more to come. Who'd have thought that you could grow mange tout for December in England's most northern county?

Having picked lots of thistles, I considered that I deserved some South African Klein Constantia Estate Red 2017 ("a sophisticated Bordeaux-style blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot and, Malbec, known for dark fruit, spice, and oak notes"), probably my favouritest wine still in production, and one of three bottles remaining from those we brought back from our last trip to SA in early 2020. But, I have just discovered it can now be bought in the UK, which is of great joy as previously it could only be sourced via Germany, which made it 'ridiculously expensive' rather than just 'jolly expensive'. However, I note that they currently seem to only have the 2018, which is nowhere near as good as the 2017, and will probably never be, but is still a better red than most of what you can buy in the UK these days.

Because I failed to find the recipe for the nut roast that we enjoyed on 25th December last year (we only eat nut roast once a year), and because it wasn't in my recipe file, my recipe box, or any of my hundreds of cookery books, or linked in the BW archive from earlier years either, for posterity, the one we had this year was this one (but using fennel rather than celery as Mr BW claims not to like celery, and using brazil and raw cashew nuts).

All the veg were from the garden, including the onions for the onion gravy, except the potatoes, although they could have been, as we do still have some of our own in store, but ours are nice enough to boil rather than roast.

And yes, as we have no-one to please but ourselves, we do eat off 30 year old tin trays, on our laps, in the comfy armchairs that used to belong to Mummy Mr BW, that we saved from the tip as a stopgap and will probably now never change. If you look carefully to the LHS of the photo, on the floor you will see the 'beach' coloured blanket that I am currently making.

That is a very strange evening-time picture out of the window of the once-a-conservatory, which should probably now be known as the 'garden room' as it now has a solid roof and insulation, but we'll never remember to call it that.

What did you do on FOTCR™ day?

Here are my two favourite things right now...

The telephone box, from inside, with lights:

And, from outside, Mr BW working on his latest wood carving, 'The Enduring Present', late this afternoon:

It's 33 years today since we met. The Enduring Present.

Now, why is it that we have lots and lots and lots of festive lights, almost all of them running in a more environmentally friendly way on rechargeable batteries, but we discover this afternoon that the battery charger (4 years old) is dead, and Amazon Prime (another free 30 day trial offered on my Witchday last Wednesday, which is already in the diary to cancel after 29 days) apparently cannot get anything here until Saturday now.

Never mind, we still have plenty of 'proper' batteries. But why oh why is nothing made to last these days?

Autumnal

Finally, 14 days on I am emerged from Ill Land. It has been a long haul.

For the past couple of weeks we have had crazy warmth for the time of year (often 18°C by day and 10°C by night) - the Atlantic-passaged end of Hurricane Melissa. On Friday morning we were outside gardening in t-shirts and my face got sunburnt!

On Wednesday evening we sat at the top of a hill in the car to watch the localish school fireworks - the same ones we have been to almost every year for the past 20 years as this last week - the week after the schools' autumn half term - was the week we always came north for an autumn break. We used to go into the school field to watch, but now the kids running around waving light sabres and screaming (which they never used to do) drives me nuts, so we now have our own quieter viewing from above.

We therefore have a mental 20 year history of exactly the usual weather and temperatures for this week - something that no other local residents can have. It certainly has never before been 14.5°C at 7pm on 5th November. Even 10 years ago we often had to scrape the ice off the car windscreen before we could go out to the fireworks.

Yesterday we were taken back (or maybe that should be aback) 27 years by an account of what we were doing on 8th November 1997. That made me feel really old - how could that have been almost half a lifetime ago (well, give or take 4 years)?

Originally, the weather forecast for this weekend and next week was zero overnight. But, that time has now moved a week further forward. However, Mr BW was working to the original date, and so most everything that needs protecting over winter is now safely tucked up in the greenhouse, in the cold frames or inside. He has also managed to get the 'allotment' (what we call the subsidiary veg plot in the orchard field) cleared and covered ready for the winter.

There are small violas in the tops of the pots of bulbs that we have planted as hope for the spring. We find violas much hardier than pansies.

There were queen bumble bees supping from them on Friday - presumably stocking themselves up before digging in somewhere to hibernate for the winter. Not quite as good as the hummingbird hawk moth we saw a couple of times a couple of weeks ago, but, who'd have thought this is England's northernmost county.

I'm delighted by the cornus (dogwood) stems visible from the conservatory window. Actually, I'm delighted by how the whole garden looks. Mr BW has worked so hard to make my vision become reality. I can design, pick a colour pallette, choose and order plants, and direct, but I don't have the energy or balance these days to do the manual work required to plant and maintain. Thank goodness he still does.

I can't bring myself to cut down perennial flowers that are still blooming yet, so hope the frost hurries up and kill off the tops as it will be good to get it done. All the seedheads will remain until the birds have eaten them all and they look a dishevelled mess.

In addition to fireworks, our week has also been full of unexpected grenades.

Regular readers will recall how part of why we moved north was to get away from the need to be constantly fighting planning applications for new towns, airport expansions, and inappropriate developments in the countryside. Well... this week has felt like back to the future.

What is proposed by one greedy person (probably financially backed by one of the 10 'big players') won't affect us directly - we are too far away - but, if approved, it will undoubtedly be followed by tens and eventually hundreds of further applications which could potentially affect the whole county's landscape and challenge tourism and the livelihoods of many others who have chosen sustainable diversification and worked incredibly hard to make their schemes work. Some serious brainwork, research, investigation, writing, and networking has been required to develop appropriate responses. I've been madly loading bullets for others to fire, but it will be months, maybe years, before it is decided.

Apologies for being cryptic, but I don't want to say things that can be picked up on searches. All I will say - and I never thought I'd be saying this - is that Google's AI has made the task so much easier. Once one has learnt how to tame it by asking the right questions, and then to interrogate it thoroughly to check sources, it is so helpful to quickly gather and sift vast quantities of information. Who'd have thought it was only May this year when it started appearing at the top of search results in a very basic form?

I don't see myself ever allowing AI to write things for me, but for identifying and then crunching information, it's been a godsend. Thanks to those of you reading who live in areas already blighted who have found an unexpected email from me in their inboxes and who have kindly shared their thoughts.

There was a very interesting programme on Radio 4's the Bottom Line a couple of weeks ago about how AI can be used to boost productivity in the UK. Worth a listen, if you haven't already heard it.

I couldn't believe the carrots Mr BW pulled for tonight's dinner.

How I miss Johnnie Walker and SOTS on a Sunday afternoon... it's just over a year since his last programme now.

Happy Birthday Mr BW!

Here's Mr BW in his workshop:

Except that he's not in his workshop here today, he's a couple of hours away across the Pennines on a week-long wood carving course.

Woodwork for pleasure rather than wordwork for necessity, as is usually the case round here.

He is making himself a present, and some bottles. I am sure that pictures will appear in due course.

Meanwhile, I had all sorts of sorting-out things planned for while he is away, but have been struck down by a nasty cold/flu bug which has so far confined me to bed for 2 days with every fibre of me aching. I rarely get ill, and it is nearly two years since I last had a bug. It's a good job that there is nothing I have to do as I doubt I could do it. I managed to brave the strong winds yesterday to check the hens, and take a couple of photos, but that was as much as I could do. This was sunrise yesterday:

Hope you have a lovely birthday Mr BW (it's a prime number!), even if you say you are not going to tell anyone that it is your special day.

Autumn update

I have discovered that Ghost Zebedee is impossible to photograph. I thought the bad picture before was just Mr BW's phone camera, but it must actually be because GZ is a ghost. Here he is in jaunty mode:

This is the old building (left) and the new building (right), showing how well the latter is already weathering down. In 20 years time, I suspect the difference between the two sandstones will be invisible. In the middle of the shot is one of the many climbing iceberg roses that we have planted in various places on all different elevations. It is an amazing rose - flowers non-stop pretty much all year round, is almost thornless, keeps within 6 or 8 feet in height, but is easily managed with a little pruning, and is a beautiful white white, with a tiny hint of pink when in bud.

First thing this morning everything was shrouded in mist. By lunchtime it was bright sunshine, but with mist still hovering around all the trees.

The nights have been remarkably warm for the time of year up to now: only a few below 10°C and only 2 below 4°C. According the the weather forecast, this is all set to change this coming weekend, with forecast temperatures at night down to zero. I don't know whether the Met Office have yet taken over the BBC weather forecasting again, but it seems less accurate than ever recently. Non-stop rain was forecast for the past few days; only a few odd showers have arrived.

Anyway, to be on the safe side, almost all the tender plants are now either inside or in the cold frames or greenhouse. All the pots of new bulbs are now planted, and there are just a few species crocuses and miscellaneous bulbs left to go into the newly enlarged border by the revitalised conservatory, once the frost finishes off the flowers on the perennials so they can be cut down. I can't bring myself to cut them down while they still have useful nectar and pollen for the many bees and butterflies that are still flying.

Does anyone know what this moth is? Is it a hummingbird hawk moth?

We've added another 1,000+ bulbs to the garden this year. Here they are all laid out ready for allocation to their various pots and beds:

How large estates and public gardens manage their bulb plantings I have no idea as this enterprise has taken almost all my brain power.

I bought bulbs from several different places this year. By far the best (largest, most solid, best packed - in breathable and compostable brown paper bags with lots of helpful written information) were from Farmer Gracy. Closely followed by those form Morrisons, then those from a local garden centre, then those from B&M, and finally, tied in last place, those from J Parker (they took 24 days to arrive, were small bulbs and sweaty in plastic bags with too small holes and insufficent information) and those from Costco (large but many with mould on them, due, I suspect, to them being incorrectly stored indoors in a heated environment). The Costco ones will be going back for a refund, whereas this time is absolutely the last time I will buy from JP. And I know I've said that before, but they have had one chance too many now.

We might even have to put the heating on for the first time tomorrow as it is just starting to get a bit too chilly in the early mornings.

Happy Birthday Zebedee!

Mr BW, Ghost Zebedee's creator, writes:

With a final flourish of assembly, and recycling by way of old horseshoes for his moustache and blunt chainsaw blades for hair, Zebedee is now securely bolted down to a large old sandstone quoin left over from when we remodelled the front of the house.

I was expecting him to be quite solid, but at over 1m tall and quite top heavy he sways gently in the breeze. I'm not sure how this will work in a gale but time will tell.

Happy 60th Birthday Zebedee!

Happy memories... which was your favourite character?

How Zebedee arrived

Continuing the series of guest posts from Mr BW...

Stage 2 is where everything started to get hot, with the forge coming into service.

The flat steel pieces were formed into tubes and seam welded. Spanners collected at various junk sales were added for hands.

Three of the tubes were welded together to form the body and arms.

Then the spring was attached via a long rod to the large round ball (the only bit that had to be bought as a finished item as it is impossible to form football shaped balls of steel without some very large press tools).

The nose was made from a smaller ball added to the larger ball via an extra small cone shaped piece of steel.

To be continued...

The Friday Question from Mr BW

It all started with a spring from an old lorry, saved as it was about to be thrown into a skip:

The remaining ingredients were: a used circular saw blade, a couple of blunt chainsaw blades, some old horseshoes, some flat steel, and a football sized steel ball.


A few weeks later, some forge work and quite a lot of welding, it has all come together, in time for a coincidental anniversary.

Can you guess what has been created?

The Friday Question

I fell badly stepping out of the greenhouse yesterday evening, and ended up flat on my front on the ground, with arms stretched up. Since then I have been feet raised with intermittent icepacks (in between mixing up sugar syrup for the bees - it's that time of year - and making drinks and energy-full snacks for Mr BW who has been in full fence mode all week).

I still can't work out exactly how I ended up in the position I did. I know I caught my toe as my second leg stepped over the 'unwanted intruder mesh barrier' across the greenhouse door, but the rest is a mystery. I was very tired and should have lifted the barrier aside, rather than attempt the manoeuvre, but I had a washing-up bowl of freshly picked potatoes and tomatoes for dinner in my hands.

The pain was so bad that at first I thought I'd broken something around my kneecap, but I can (painfully) bend it and just about stand on it, so probably not. Far too much Covid around these parts again to risk going to the urgent care unit at the not-so-local hospital for an X-ray, so I'll see how it goes.

It could have been so much worse... particularly if I'd had my glasses on rather than my contact lenses in, or if Mr BW hadn't been within shouting range. But, it does shake you up falling like that, doesn't it?

I fall over a lot, especially when I am tired, but not usually like this - mostly because I am sensible enough to use a special walking stick when I am out to mitigate any stumbles or trips. Having 3 'feet' the stick is also excellent for balancing on when standing still, or for support when bending down to read low down labels (why do art galleries and museums always put labels so low?). So, I'm calling this my first 'proper' fall, which didn't happen until my 63rd year. It is, of course, now all downhill from here, but thankfully (hopefully?) we future-proofed The Coven as we renovated.

This week's Friday Question is, have you ever had a fall that scared you, how did it happen, and how old were you at the time?

Moving forward

I have devised a new test for the question 'do I really want to do this activity?'

Basically, if I had a year to live, would I choose to spend time doing that? If not, then don't do it now, because I don't know (ie no-one knows) if I have only a year to live. Could be less, more, or much more.

It's just too easy to get drawn into things and keep doing them for spurious reasons, including habit, or not wanting to let other people down.

No go

Well, we didn't get the 3pm emergency warning sound.

I never would as 2G doesn't, but nor did Mr BW, and nor did he last time, which means that my cloaking spell is working, and HMG has no idea where we are, until they want more tax money from us, in which case they somehow always know where we are. Important enough to tax; unimportant enough to save.

Sadly we will also not be getting a view of the bloody lunar eclipse this early evening, as we have been shrouded in cloud all day.

The Friday Question

Time and tides wait for no man, as Chaucer said, and I still haven't conquered my fear of new photo processing software, or indeed tried to play with it at all. In my defence, I haven't been feeling great recently, and I hate this time of year too, and am always surprised that I am surprised by how quickly 'light when I go to sleep and light when I wake up' turns into 'dark at both ends of my day' (my waking hours being considerably shorter than most people's anyway).

I'm still frustrated by new cars not having CD players as digital radio coverage when travelling is absolutely rubbish across the north, even on major roads, and despite having FM tunings for radio stations programmed in as well, the car simply ignores them, immediately reverting to the non-functioning DAB version of any FM station that you attempt to manually choose.

I have always disliked digital versions of music as they don't sound 'right' to me, and we still both have not only all our original vinyl (LPs and singles), CDs and (in Mr BW's case), tapes, but the the means to play them as well. Hardware from the olden days (Sony and Technics), so that our music still sounds as good as it ever did, especially in rooms with wooden floors. And yes, I know that CDs are, strictly speaking, 'digital', but they don't sound as 'digital' as MP3 digital. I once knew why this was, but I don't any more and I CBATG.

I am on my third or fourth version of a few favourite CDs though - Steve Earle (Copperhead Road), Joan Armatrading (the very best of), Bruce Springsteen (The River), Tracy Chapman (Greatest Hits), Eagles (Hotel California) - and I can confirm that the new ones definitely don't last as long as the original ones.

I still only have one digital track, TMBG's 'Birdhouse in your soul', but only because someone once sent it to me by email.

Amazon used to let you have a digital version of anything you'd ever bought as a hard copy this millennium, but they don't seem to do this any more unless you pay £11.99 a month for Amazon Music. Rufus told me that they do, but then gave me a link to a 'page not found'. AI might be useful one day, but that day is definitely not yet. At least they now put disclaimers at the bottom of most AI summaries (although I'd wager that most people won't ever see or read that, let alone take any notice of it).

I have some USB sticks that I use for audiobooks, and suspect that there must be an easy way to get CDs into digital form that I could then put onto them to play in the car when the DAB is playing up? I used to have a piece of software (on CD) to rip music tracks, but I never used it, and, as it was for Windows 95, I doubt it would work these days. We do still have an external DVD/CD drive that I can plug into my desktop PC, should anyone have any ideas of appropriate software?

I am happy to be the dinosauriest blogger in the village, and suspect that most of you probably have thousands of digital tracks on your smartphones that you can send (or is that 'cast'?) to your in-car entertainment panels, but for this week's Friday Question, I would like to know if anyone else still has their original physical format music, and original hardware to play it on?

The Friday Question

Every new replacement gadget we are forced to buy seems to have brighter LEDs than the last, and most no longer have any discoverable way to turn the lights off.

Who needs nightlights when you have gadgets?

Unhappily, the nights are drawing in rapidly, and walking around the house last night I noted the following unnecessary lights on gadgets that run off mains electricity:

Craft Room: boiler controller, smoke detector
Our Bedroom/ensuite: smoke detector, TV, HD recorder, my laptop, my old laptop, Mr BW's laptop, wifi extender (that new last week gadget has lights bright enough to see to read a book)
Atrium: broadband router (when this was installed I asked how to turn off the 5 bright green lights and was told to use a piece of gaffer tape), smoke detector
Cloakroom: nothing
Utility: nothing
Kitchen: Plug in USB sockets (while we have USB sockets built into most of our plug sockets, this outlet needs a triple socket and we couldn't find one with USB chargers built in)
Library (this was the lounge but we don't ever sit in there, so it's now the library as about half our books are in there): new printer, HD recorder
Conservatory: nothing, which is just as well as any light would likely be visible for tens of miles
Upstairs Landing: wifi extender built into plug socket, smoke detector, smoke detector
Guest Bedroom/ensuite: extension plug board (as can't currently get to the wall socket), electric shower pull-cord (should have been turned off at the distribution board)
Office: extension plug board (all other gadgets including the old printer have ways to turn off their lights)
Main Bathroom: nothing
Sewing Room: plug extension board (this should have been off; at the wall; it usually is)
Store Rooms: 4 on various security devices

And I didn't dare go in Mr BW's Workshop as it might have been like that festive time of year that will appear in the shops anytime soon - I have already had 3 emails about it, and promptly unsubscribed from the sending companies. But, smoke detector, freezer, Mi1dred's battery trickle charger, other battery chargers (not all in use, I know, I know, I have repeatedly told him, it's a safety hazard as well as a waste of energy/money...), other things that I have no idea what they are let alone what they do, so let's say 5 altogether.

There are also a couple of smoke and carbon monoxide detectors in various places that flash brightly occasionally, but they don't run off mains electricity.

We don't use an in-house smart meter monitor for electricity usage as we turn off things we don't need on (and don't leave things on standby), and, when it was new 4 years ago, I worked out that, if plugged in, it used £11 worth of electricity per year. More recent ones are only allowed to consume 0.6W per hour, but that is still over £2 per year.

Altogether, we have somewhere around 30 unwanted LED lights on gadgets.

If the lights on each gadget uses £2 of electricity per year (and some undoubtedly use much more, some less), that is around £60 of wasted electricity per year, and sixty bright one pound coins down the drain.

Multiply this up by every household, every office, every factory, every shop in the country, and that is millions and millions of pounds worth of wasted energy and wasted money per year.

How many LEDs glow in your house in the dark?

Do you find them unnecessary and annoying?

New Broom

Oh, wait, it's not a new broom, it's a new computer. And this is its first post.

Mr BW has now got it to look almost the same as the last one - although (on our rural community broadband Gb connection, which is giving 300Mb/s up and down on a wifi connection via an extender) a thousand times faster (well, actually only five faster times in reality - although these things probably aren't linear?), and things open and close apparently on a whim, which is not good for my ageing digits or brain.

I have managed to turn off the annoying backlights on the keyboard, and to dim the screen to non migraine inducing levels, but the F5 key (used to dim the screen) doesn't seem to work to refresh a browser page, even if pressed with the Ctrl key at the same time, as the manufacturer suggests. We also can't currently get it to talk to either the old printer (upstairs, kept until it runs out of ink), or the new printer (downstairs).

But, all things considered, and compared to the many tens of hours it used to take to set up a new machine to look like the replaced machine even 10 years ago, it's a small miracle.

I usually use my laptop in what I like to think of as a "Wordsworth way": that is, "And oft, when on my couch I lay / In vacant or in pensive mood," so, resting lying on the bed, with the head end raised and the computer resting on my tummy. I was concerned that the increased weight of the new machine would quickly turn me into Flat Stanley, but it hasn't yet. I love that book - in 1986 when I spent a year teaching top infants (Y2 as it is now) I based a whole half term's work on it (those were the days, when teachers could be creative and follow their own and their pupils' interests) - why I've never had a copy of my own I have no idea.

Yet more technology failed over the weekend. On the way home from the weekend classic car rally on Sunday evening, the powerbank that Mr BW uses in Mi1dred to power the satnav (Mi1dred being 92 and 6V) decided that its USB ports were too old and wobbly. Which does not bode well for a long future for any new computer that is now powered by a USB C input rather than a small round prong that slides into a hole. Come to think of it, our latest electric blinds also have USB charging sockets, rather than the easier-to-use round push in prongs, so they won't last as long as they could either. I strongly suspect that decisions on such things are made by 20 year olds who have no idea of the effects of their decisions on those of advancing years, or those with reduced manual dexterity and less-than-perfect eyesight.

Anyway, fortunately I am thoroughly trained in 'convoy rules' through many years of classic car club runs, and I managed to safely lead Mi1dred and Mr BW home, which was lucky as they might otherwise have got lost without a functioning satnav and ended up on an A road which would have been scary. Given that when towing Bri@n it is only possible to see a following small car when peering in the the mirrors when going round a corner, and given that the tarmac roads were only three feet wider than Bri@n, and the fenced-in cattle grids only two feet, this made for a lot of breath holding and finger crossing.

Mr BW said that I deserve my caravan towing badge. Fortunately the only vehicles we met in the 30-odd miles of lanes between here and the coast were encountered in places where there was room to pass, as it is unlikely that Bri@n would enjoy being reversed by me.

The Photoshop disc that I have been using for the past 20 years sadly won't work with Windows 11, so I now have to master the free (except for the odd annoying pop-up message to encourage purchase of the full version) PhotoPad (NCH Software) which Mr BW assures me is easy to use. Given that all I ever do is crop and resize photos to post here, that shouldn't be too hard. Should it?

The Friday Question

I finally have a new laptop, so there is hope that BW may improve its schedule (and ability to include pictures) sometime soon, once Mr BW has finished setting it up and making it look nearly the same as my old one which has limped on for at least 18 months past its sell-by date.

I have a theory that Microsoft have been filling up the hard drives of any machines still running Windows 10 with pointless and bloaty updates, to force people to buy new equipment. I did get a new one some months ago, but it refused to connect to the wifi and was doing lots of silly things that weren't right, so it went back.

This time I have the small cousin of Mr BW's new laptop, so hopefully he will know how to do anything that stumps me; there is method in my madness. Plus it was £300 off at Costco, who give an extra year's warranty with every purchase. But why my lovely old little netbook could have an 11.5 inch screen and weigh just 1090g when this new one weighs half as much again and has a 14 inch screen I have no idea. Progress, eh?

So that makes a new printer, a new wifi extender, and two new laptops that have had to be purchased in the last month. Ouch.

The week before last we went away for three nights, and we're going away again for two nights to a classic car rally over on the coast. We will be staying on the site (in a country park on the coast) in Bri@n - who has not been towed, other than around the block, for over 5 years. Mr BW has now added 'caravan servicing' to his skill-set, thanks to YouTube. When you live in the middle of nowhere, and the nearest place that might be able to service your caravan is over 60 miles away, it is senseless to tow your needs-looking-at-to-ensure-safety pod that far, so the only option is DIY.

As I don't drive Mi1dred, I have to drive Mr BW's car, towing Bri@n. I have only driven Mr BW's car 3 times before, as I hate all the unnecessary electronic gadgets that can't be turned off. What could possibly go wrong? ;)

I realised that in the past 5.5 years since we moved here, I have only (so far) had 7 nights away from homes. 3 plus 2 days last year, and 3 days this year. I had maybe 20 nights at Coven Sud and Mr BW had probably 150 more than that down south, but those don't count as they were still in a house we owned.

7 nights away from home in five and a half years. That's certainly a record for us. But, as I always say to people, as we moved to a place where we holidayed happily for 15 years, every day still seems like a holiday.

How many nights have you spent away from home since March 2020?

A sight worth seeing

If you happen to be awake around dawn any time in the next few days, can I recommend going outside and looking east, about 45° up?

Venus and Saturn, the two brightest planets visible from Earth, are currently within a degree or so of each other - a conjunction. They are closest on Tuesday early morning, and with the 4th heatwave of the year building, I would think that the early mornings are likely to be clear.

I picked up a copy of Waitrose Weekend when popping in for some milk on the way back from my textile group yesterday afternoon. They rarely have any of these free papers left by Saturday afternoon, and I rarely read it (we use it for the hens), but, at the bottom of page 4, this phenomenon was described.

I happened to wake up soon after 4.30am this morning, and it was visible for nearly an hour: Saturn on the left and Venus on the right. The full moon was 180° from it, at around the same height. Truly magical. I'll add a picture tomorrow.

It almost makes up for the full moon spoiling the Perseids this year.

It's August the 4th

Rain rain rain from the early hours and wind wind wind from 10am. 50mph wind.

Storm Floris.

Not what one would expect for the time of year.

We'd battened down the hatches in readiness, but with trees in full leaf and some in full fruit, and vulnerable bean poles, there were always going to be casualties. Flattened flowers can just be cut back and will probably have another flush of flowers once they have recovered.

We'll have to sort it all out in the morning as the wind is forecast to be strong through to the early hours. Just what we didn't need to do as we are going away for a few days, and having already spent much of today dealing with an idiot building society who managed to transfer the whole of an ISA into one new bank rather than send one third to one place, one third to another, and retain the last third. Of course, we are now left to ensure repayment is made, and then to reapply for all the new ISAs again, and fight the bungling one for loss of interest and compensation for maladministration (including the person who made the error attempting to cover up their bungling by lying). Bang goes another day. If not two. Or three if we have to involve the Ombudsman.

All this around trying to pack and leave everything watered and fed enough to leave for a few days, and Mr BW also having to set up his new laptop that arrived this morning just as we were going out to Nice Nearest Neighbour's to deliver her birthday card and present.

We thought that after we waved goodbye to the final workmen, back at the end of June, life would be simpler and our time would be our own again. Fat chance.

I don't know if we are just very very unlucky with all the appalling service we receive, or whether most people don't have time to notice, let alone sort out all the mistakes that companies make.

The Bank of England's Base Rate (so interest rates in general) are predicted to come down 0.25% to 4% on Thusday, when their Monetary Policy Committee meet.

Food inflation is predicted to rise to 6% by the end of the year.

And the government's emergency warning system is being tested again on Sunday September 7th at 3pm.

The end of the world could be coming...

Admin eats time

Once upon a time, from 1985 to 2020, all our insurances were due on the same day in the third week of August. This nicely concertinad insurance renewal into one day of admin time for 35 years.

Then came 'The Great and Prolonged Move North' and 'The Building Projects' plus the necessity to buy new cars, which have now resulted in 3 different renewal dates, thereby now kissing goodbye to 3 days of my available daily active hours every year.

If you carry out extensive building works, many insurance companies simply cancel your insurance once you notify them (as you legally have to), leaving you high and dry and scratching around for a new company that will cover you at short notice, for exorbitant rates. If you buy a new car, many insurance companies hugely inflate your premiums, or refuse to cover you at all (if your new car has a soft top), and all brokers have gigantic admin charges for alterations, so forcing you to look elsewhere.

And so it comes to pass that we now have one renewal date in February, one in August and one in December rather that just one date for all three in August.

So, I started the week looking around for insurance for Mr BW's car. Current company wanted 55% more than I got it for eventually, with better cover, and the promise of a brand new car if it is ever more than 60% damaged in its first 2 years (who needs Gap insurance in these circumstances?). I could have got it for half the renewal price, but budget insurance (2.9/5 on Trustpilot) is too much potential hassle, and better safe than sorry.

On Monday I decided I'd had enough of paying Octopus 70p per day standing charge when we only use 7 or 8 units of electricity per day, and are sick of their inane 'save money by cutting down on usage between x and y hours' when you just eventually get 5p for having sat in the dark for 2 hours. Plus, our fixed tariff with them runs out in 8 weeks anyway. Some comparison site searching and then looking for reviews made us decide that changing was the best bet, and at midnight last night (just 30 hours after deciding) we moved electricty company, and they've already picked up our smart meter readings. No more waiting a month, or even a week, for changing. £148 per year saved. All good. I think that makes the 7th electricity company we have been with in just over 5 years here. One was the inherited company that we changed from immediately, 2 went bust, leaving us with the 'supplier of last resort', from whom we quickly moved, and the final one was a 'once good, now too big for their own good' company.

Today was spent agonising over where to move some ISA money - after MSE (and other more academic sources) suggested that their info was that the base rate would come down another 0.25% on Thursday week, I realised that the nice flexible ISA instant access I'd been watching an nurturing was dead and that I needed to move quite a lot of money elsewhere pronto. My transfer went without hitch and (amazingly) despite being told it would take up to 15 days, I've just had an email to say that my money is already with the new provider.

However, yet again, Mr BW's auto-ID checks failed (how mine pass every time while his fail every time I have no idea), and depsite having (against my better judgment) to email in a photo of his photo ID (driving licence), the receiving company still have not confimed acceptance. Looking elsewhere found that the rates offered in the MSE email this morning are being pulled faster than a dodgy dentist (ie seemingly most of those in the north) pulls teeth, so a strongly worded email has been sent to the offending company demanding that the rates offered be honoured as the delays were entirely their fault. We'll see...

I forgot to mention that all our technology is going wrong at the same time, yet again.

A set of new inks for our old HP printer is now £185, or £90 as compatibles. We swopped to remanufactured cartridges 3 years ago, and I've now had issues with 4 compatible cartridges. Despite the re-manfacturers giving a 12 month guarantee, they just ignore you if you email with evidence that cartridges have failed (so leaving you to the mercy of credit card company chargeback, and all the hassle that entails).

I was intending to get an Epson eco-tank printer, but, in researching it, found so many complaints that I then didn't want to go that route. I also discovered that HP now do a tank machine, so managed to buy a new machine (originally £279) with (supposedly) 3 years ink included, for £169 (after manufacturer's and Costco discounts). I don't want to junk the old printer, which is perfectly fine, apart from the cost of the ink now, but I have no choice. What is the point of HP selling a brand new machine, with a 3 year guarantee, and 3 years of ink, for less than the price of one set of new inks (which last us about 8 months)?

I'm beginning to think that I am the only person who actually cares about this sort of thing any more. Am I?

Tomorrow's post will no doubt contain moaning about being forced to get new laptops. Yet another time sink.

Another star

Mr BW has a badge, like those that McDonald's employees sport.

One star for every demonstrated and perfected skill.

It's a bit large now, and a bit cumbersome, so it is very heavy, and he can't actually wear it any more.

I think that The Black Familiar looks after it, as well as Mi1dred, in the workshop/garage.

This week it gained another 2 stars: the recycling star - awarded for cutting off useful cables and plugs before taking something to the tip, without being reminded; for asking people offloading many useful things - obviously from a house clearance - from a hired van at the tip, if we could have some items (spirit levels and metal supports); and for bringing back some shredded cardboard (that I had absent-mindedly put in the kitchen recyling bin) for b33 smoker fuel rather than putting it in the recycling bin at the end of the drive.

And the slating star, for reusing large quantities of slates, and wood from previous building phases.

Here are some photos of the stages of the wood store construction, which includes a slated roof, made from the leftover slates we made the roofers leave behind (there were 200 of them, they told us they cost £2 each, and £400 wasn't coming off the bill if they took them away as they were planning, so they stayed here, after I noticed and Mr BW intervened). It has been constructed on the east wall of the house, between the chimney pillar and the edge nearest the revamped conservatory.

Before:

With the (Mr BW made) steel supports and roofing support timbers:

Roof starting:

Roof continuing:

Dividers:

Reusing the forged gate - that Mr BW made for the field gate at Coven Sud, that we moved North - as a camouflaging rose support:

Now we just have to fill the wood store with all the timber (largely trees that we chopped down as they were in the way of the various building projects) from the collapsing former wood shed (once a dog kennel), and with the rest of the yet-to-be-chopped-up remaining old roof timbers.

Strangely, today our chosen episode of Johnnie Walker's SOTS, Ghost Edition, was from 3 years ago, weeks before The Proper Queen died, and featured pre-amble from when the England Women footballers won the last trophy.

Pointless pastimes

There seems to be an outbreak of 'forest bathing' being promoted in our locality.

This seem to involve sitting or lying quietly in a field or wood and breathing and listening.
A two hour session is just £38.62.

And then there is the other latest craze: 'sound bathing'. This seems to involve sitting or lying on a mat in a field listening to gongs and metal bowls being banged while emptying your mind. It's 'transformative' apparently, for your mind, body, and spirit. At around £20 a 40 minute session in a group of 6, in my opinion the thing most transformed is likely to be the organiser's bank balance.

And then there are the 'Digital Detox Days' held at various venues within the county. You pay to have your gadgets put safely away in a locker for a day, while you do other more exciting things.

Well, no thanks to paying for any of the above. Every day encompasses most of those things around here. I am saddened that anyone feels it necessary to pay someone else to take them for a walk or sit in nature to listen and notice their surroundings. Or to relieve them of their gadgets as they are too addicted to pass a few hours without them.

It's great to be eating almost entirely from the garden, and satisfying to have almost all the materials we need to do almost everything we want - many of them salvaged from past building works.

This week Mr BW has been building and slating a log store, and we have been designing another fused glass top for an outdoor table - this time with a strelitzia design.

I just wish we could get rid of all the wasps... never have we seen so many, and they are a big threat to the b33s.

Birding

There is a huge murder of crows that flies menacingly around the local area. It mostly settles in some trees a few hundred yards away, but just recently a few bold members have started alighting on the summerhouse roof. Banging a pair of flip flops outside the front door usually dispatches all of them for the rest of that day, but there are several hundred of them, and in full flight it is scarily like a scene from Hitchcock's The Birds. Once the wheat crop is harvested, I expect the farmer will send the crow murderer out again, like he did last year, and the murder of crows will end up murdered. Here's hoping it doesn't start at 5.30am like last time, as we woke thinking WW3 had started right overhead.

There is also a flock of goldfinches, maybe 50 or 60 of them, who flitter about, and often alight in our old plum tree sometime around 5am. I didn't know that goldfinches flew in groups, or, until just now, that the collective noun for goldfinches is a charm.

Mr BW rescued a tiny bird from the greenhouse the other day.

At first I thought it was a greenfinch, then I thought it might be a juvenille goldfinch that had somehow got separated from the charm. It wasn't singing, so we couldn't use Merlin to be sure.



Having now looked at images online, the beak doesn't seem correct for a goldfinch.

Maybe it's a wagtail? The beak is more wagtail-y, but the tail feathers don't seem long or slender enough.

Anyone got any thoughts?

Learning the hard way

Kippy (in the comments) and Mark Twain (allegedly) are correct: house guests are like fish; they are only good for three days.

The OFBW left on Tuesday morning after 7 days and 6 nights. We did not invite them for this amount of time, they chose it.

In advance of their visit we had emailed them a long list of suggested places to visit, with links, so that they could do some research before they arrived, and I gave them my box file of maps and leaflets of interesting day trips when they arrived.

We suggested two joint outings and assumed that they intended to go out on their own the rest of the time. However... it soon transpired that they intended to stay around the house and grounds for most of the time, taking photos and sending them to all their WhatsApp groups, and then telling us what their various family members, friends and acquaintances thought of our house/garden/plants/bees and butterflies etc.

Now, I am a lot more tolerant than I used to be these days (largely because the middle of nowhere with the nearest neighbour half a mile away has little to annoy anyone), but I do not see why I should put up with other people sitting at our table, playing on their gadgets, with their phones pinging multiple notifications every minute.

I also object to photos of our lives and surroundings (that will be geotagged because most people have no idea this happens, let alone how to turn it off) being sent to all and sundry, with no control over where they end up. AI is advancing fast and will soon be building information grids which are as yet unimaginable in terms of sourcing, complexity and usage. Because I couldn't think of a polite way of telling them that we didn't want them to do this, Mr BW had a quiet word with them on the second day, when I wasn't around. I know the undesired behaviour continued, but at least it was more subtle.

I also object to a guest going through the contents of my fridge (and passing comment on the desirability or otherwise of items), and helping themself to my alcohol (in one case before noon), including (after drinking everything else) a can of stout that I had intended to use to make a cake, even if they later replace it and then ask, "When are you making that cake?" at every opportunity. Needless to say, I didn't. And even yesterday I found a half-empty bottle of white wine in the drinks fridge that I certainly didn't open.

I now have a new definition of 'hypocrisy' - wearing t-shirts "made of sustainable bamboo" and evangelising about it, with no idea/interest that bamboo isn't actually that sustainable, with slogans like, "Because there is no Plan B", when each of them drives a car that does fewer than 35mpg, and takes at least 8 flights a year, half long-haul, and one of them still drinks water out of single-use plastic bottles.

For them, every outing has to have at least one visit to a coffee shop. For us, who waste neither time nor money on such fripperies, and anyway don't drink coffee, that is very frustrating.

We also had to sit through endless tales of other people's lives, and complaints about the hospitality they'd been provided from various of their other family and friends. I pondered aloud, in a sarcastic tone, "I wonder what they say about us when we're not there?" which did at least elicit a long pause and then a change of subject. Interestingly, it emerged that they had fallen out with two sets of friends and a sibling and his wife during stays with them. In hindsight, I should have said, "Are you surprised?" but, I was brought up to be better mannered than that, and was, at the time, dumb-struck by their complete lack of self-awareness.

On Saturday I took these bottles to the bottle bank on my way to therapy (AKA (fleece) spinning group). Yes, there are 21 of them, and there were another 7 beer bottles, of which Mr BW and I only consumed one each, with a curry.

Probably half of the contents of the bottles was drunk by Mr OFBW, who is now undoubtedly exhibiting signs of alcoholism (hiding a bottle under the table and sneekily topping up, filling a glass to the very top them gulping half and then refilling when he thought no-one was looking - after a professional lifetime of observing in classrooms and four and a half years of overseeing builders, if I am in the vicinity, I miss nothing - etc etc). The very long-suffering Mrs OFBW is clearly aware of the problem, which might actually be longer-standing than I think.

I could not have ventured out of the house before yesterday, such was my level of exhaustion after they had gone.

It was the third heatwave of the year in these northern parts, and I spent the week loading and unloading the dishwasher, cooking, and repeatedly walking the length of the longhouse from the ice cube maker or freezer to the kitchen to keep certain people supplied with ice. As a reward, I now have a sharp pain in the heel of my right foot when weight-bearing (I think from walking bare-footed on our hard tiled floors much more than usual). I have also now ordered an insulated, lidded, ice bucket.

How we used double the amount of electricity we usually use, I have no idea.

And I haven't even told you about what happened when we had one of the usual spluttering orange water problems on the Friday, or the toddler tantrum when Mr OFBW discovered that Mr BW had inadvertently used his bottle of sparkling water that he had put in the drinks fridge, to make tempura batter...

Yes, I don't think they will be coming to stay again any time soon, and I doubt we will ever go to stay with them in Suffolk as I still have a panic attack every time we get to the big roundabout on the outskirts of N'Castle which proclaims that the turning to the right is for "A1 - The South". I really really don't want to go back down there.

As far as I am concerned, in the case of the male of the species, the 'O' in 'OFBW' might now stand for 'Once' rather than 'Old'... 29 years after meeting, and once with a lot in common, after that visitation, it is clear that we are now walking very different paths, with very different interests, expectations, understandings and conceptions of the world.

The week ahead

The great thing about having people to stay for a week is that you get round to doing all those deep-clean household chores that you wouldn't dream of asking your cleaner to do, but that you never quite get round to yourself the rest of the time. Those jobs that you don't need to do when people are only coming for the day or even for a night or two, because they won't have the time or the opportunity to notice.

And so we now have clean Aga lid and oven door insides (I think this is only the second time they have been done in 5 years since the Aga was installed), clean fridge, clean drinks fridge, debugged ceiling light covers, de-crumbed kitchen drawer corners, and de-fluffed bathroom cabinet drawers. We also have ironed tea-towels and pillow cases and new toilet brushes - the first renewed set since we moved in. Maybe that is too much information? There are probably other things too, but I can't remember them now I am trying.

The farmer took the sheep from the field behind us off this morning and they returned what seemed like ten minutes later, but was probably two hours, minus their coats. At least they look clean again, and given how hot it is predicted to be again by the weekend, they will be grateful.

I have written on a piece of card that I shall keep close to hand (but hidden away), "Mr Old Friend BW can get very annoying after a couple of days. Remember he will be going home soon."

He probably has a similar card with a similar message about me.

We love him dearly, having known him for nearly 30 years, but he is not the best of house guests, and not very good at helping out. Fortunately Mrs Old Friend BW usually makes up for his short-comings.

Mr BW and I are betting on how many days we are going to have to endure him going on and on about the Black Sabbath goodbye gig that he went to last weekend, and whether or not he will turn up wearing That t-shirt.

I took the glass recycling to the bottle bank in the nearest village yesterday on my way to somewhere. There is still no glass kerbside recycling in these rural parts, which frustrates me greatly as the county council provide that service in the towns (where there are of course numerous bottle banks in supermarket car parks) but not in the isolated areas where it is really needed.

Our glass bin is a standard size swing bin and holds probably 25 empty bottles. I am wondering how many bottles will not fit into the bin by the time they go home next week. Faites vox jeux.

You need to know that Mr OFBW used to work in the drinks industry and knows his wine. One memorable night, way way back last century, when they lived next door but one to us down south, and Mr OFBW still had lots of free sample bottles, we polished off 10 bottles between the 4 of us. Actually, Mrs OFBW probably dropped out at Bottle 6 (she has always been a lightweight, or more sensible, depending on your point of view), and I probably dropped asleep before Bottle 8, but Mr OFBW and Mr BW were still drinking when Mr OFBW insisted on opening Bottle 10, proudly proclaiming that it had a list price of over £80. 10 bottles between 4 when you are in your early 30s would have been just about OK, except that a taxi was picking them up to take them to the airport to go on holiday very early the next morning. How they woke up on time I still don't know to this day.

We are certainly in for an action packed week...

A matter of degrees

Where we used to live, it was 35°C today. Here, it was 16°C maximum, and 14°C and drizzly for most of the afternoon.

We know because The Old Friends BW are coming to stay in a week's time - the first time we have seen them face-to-face for nearly 4 years - and we were emailing to confirm the arrangements.

Never before have we seen a 19°C difference in temperature between two places in England that are 300 miles apart.

We went into town: everyone else was wearing winter coats. We had on summer attire.

It occurred to me that if it were winter and 14 degrees, we would be wearing many layers and turning up the thermostat. In winter I would feel cold at that temperature: in summer somehow it just seems different; refreshingly cool.

We are drowning in berries. They are ripening faster than we can pick them. Delicious.