After several weeks of dry weather, the weather had to change. We had prepared for the annual tog of war against Tony and Cherie Blair’s new village. Food and drink had been purchased, the river blocked to raise the water level, nettles cut.
Again like last year, the weather Gods stepped in and said “No. No tug of war today, mate.” So we cancelled and will hold it in August. Maybe by then Tony and Cherie will have moved in and will be able to join in. Let’s wait and see.
Amazing, several days without rain. The weekend was fabulous. The BBQ was used twice. BBQ English leg of lamb on Saturday, and then little, spatchcocked poussins on Sunday. Even now several days later the sun is still about.
At home the birds are nesting, we have four little ducklings on the field pond. Rosemary has yet to see them. Of course there could be a few less with the number of crows, magpies, rooks etc marching around the field. Then we have a great tit nesting. They ignored all the detached homes we put up for them last year. Instead they are nesting in the cavity wall of the utility room, just by the entrance door. Rosemary is very concerned that I don’t go around slamming the door as I come and go.
Preparations are under way for the annual tug of war against Wotton Underwood. I don’t expect we will be seeing Tony and Cherie Blair participating in the event. I wouldn’t think they would have moved in by then. Maybe we will see them next year?
Today was fabulous. Dry, and the temperature rose to 21C. The hottest day of the year. What was more remarkable the day was a Saturday. Alas the forecast for Sunday is rain, can’t be having too much of a good thing can we?
There was quite a drying breeze, so out with the lawn mower and I performed the first cut of the year. Also did a little bit of strimming, cutting down the butterfly habitat, otherwise know as stinging nettles. Took a look at the graveyard, will have to put the brush cutter on. Seems some 60 little saplings have grown up over winter, and they are already too tough for a nylon cord strimmer.
The six sheep in the field were unhappy with me. I built a lovely big fire from all the small bits of wood from the willow trees I cut down earlier in the year. The sheep migrated to the furthest corner of the field where they have stayed all afternoon.
Now the evening has started, it’s a well earned Gin and Tonic after the day’s hard labours. While drinking my G&T and with the aid of Google I reckon I have the solution to my mobile phone problem. I have a Nokia 6151, it’s a 3G handset. Alas it always tries to locate a 3G transmitter in preference to stronger 2G transmitters. It often can at home connect to a 3G transmitter, but the signal is so weak, I can’t make sensible phone calls. When it connects to a 2G transmitter there is no problem with the phone call. So I had this ridiculous problem that phone calls upstairs never worked when it connects to 3G, but down tairs they work when it cannot find the weak 3G signal, so has to use the strong 2G signal. Friday was a trial, I would receive a call when I was working at home. I would answer, the call would break up and disconnect. Downstairs I would go, place the phone on the floor to hasten the switch over to 2G, once in 2G mode I would pick the phone up and make the call hoping it would not go back to 3G.
There was not option to force the phone to use 2G in the settings. You can force 3G, or select a setting where it will use with 3G or 2G. It always though prefers to use 3G.
The solution I read on a search of Google and implemented was to turn off automatic connection to the the service provider, and to use manual connection. With manual connection you can then select the 2G service, ignoring the 3G service. I wonder if I will get problems when I go to other areas of the country. Only time will tell. What worries me slightly is my phone is from 3, and don’t they have some roaming agreements with other services providers where they have not got their own transmitters. Maybe I will end up selecting the 2G service at home, and then re-enable automatic selection when I leave home.
It took several days to recover from the food poisoning, even on Friday and Saturday I declined going to the pub to have anything to drink. Really only recovered for Sunday when we met Richard and Celia for lunch at Banbury, where we ate Sunday lunch of roasted cow.
My poor car broke down on Saturday, the battery decided not to work. We had visited Ladymead Joinery to advise on their hardware and network. I also took a few pictures of the new machinery in operation. Came to leave and the battery was dead, nothing. No lights had been left on. Had a jump start from Tony and bought a new battery from Halfords.
Rosemary has reported that my weeding of the pond has caused disruption in Moorhen World. The weeding from the pond is still on the bank, (allowing the pond life which was removed to wander back into the water at their leisure). Alas they are too near the bank, and the increase in height compounded by the slippery mud has made it difficult for the moorhen to get out of the pond. Rosemary was attracted to this plight by considerable squawking and splashing as the moorhen tried to surmount the bank side. Why it didn’t try an easier route is anyone’s guess.
Did a bit of weeding of the pond on Sunday. Removed the floating island of waterlily and various other plants including a bramble. Trimmed back the shallow water plants which were creating their own rafts.
Had to do some wading to achieve this. Remembered to remove my mobile phone from my jeans before I started, but alas left my credit cards and notes in my pocket. Ah well, they dried out and the cards, of course, still work.
Replanted a bit of the waterlily back into the depths, so hopefully it will live and show as some nice flowers this year.
Now looking forward to the storm predicted to break during the night.
We have a Pepys themed walked with the Berkshire branch of the Cambridge Society in London for Saturday 29th March. I’ve always wanted to see “The Mousetrap”, so after much dithering (& gasping at ticket prices) we decide yes & I try to book tickets for the evening performance on Saturday.
The website I use has several points during the booking process when it warns you it will time out if you do not complete the “form” within so many minutes. I struggle through and am not timed out. Finally, the stupid website announces it needs my Verification details, ie not the PIN nor the three digits on the back of the card, but some other stupid number. I’ve never set one up with the bank, but Steve, unbeknown to me, has. Website times out, so Steve says out of the way and he’ll do it on his card. Much hissing and panicking as Steve logs into the site but it still demands he types in all his details. He gets the tickets. Curiously they are not the ones it offered me. Never get the same twice running, he says. I look more closely. Why did you book for Friday 28th, I ask? Much screaming ensues. What to do? Go up two days running? Sell them on ebay?
Inspiration strikes me and I ask if Steve has any points from his hotel stays left over? Result – we’re going up Friday morning & will stay overnight on Friday and we’re even getting lifts to and from the station.
Another Saturday morning with the chain saw cutting up logs, with Rosemary stacking them in the shed. Think the blade has gone blunt again, so gave up for lunch time. Next week will have to get the blade sharpened again.
Decided to cut down 4 willow trees. Despite all having been cut down before, they had now grown to a rather large size. Out with the chain saw, started first time and away we went cutting. Alas after several minutes not much impression. Blunt saw.
Sent Rosemary off to Longmoor’s to have it sharpened. She came back suitably chastened after being told that it had not been serviced, the oil was not lubricating the chain and the chain was too tight. Soon was cutting again, like the proverbial hot knife through butter.
Managed to cut down all the trees and started logging some of them.
Working from home to day, the weather is absolutely crap. The Blasdale field is flooded, the poor sheep are wearing (Wellington) boots today.