Sunday 16 April 2023

42 notebooks


I have just uploaded all of the above photos to my blog in one fell swoop and it has made me so happy. I used to be able to do lots at once, then something weird happened and every single one had to be done individually. I just tried it the old way and hurray, it is back. All in a random order, but I'm not complaining.

The magnolia in the top photo is a stunted little tree in a pot. It was supposed to be a white one, but it was grafted and the grafted top died, so I was just left with the root. Every year it hardly grows and snails eat at least half of it and all summer it just looks sad and I think, 'I'll compost it and move on", and yet I never do. And then in spring it pushes out a handful of flowers and I vow to look after it better. 

The middle boy loves a bit of philosophy and the dog likes to visit his room and bring his toys with him. In this case a zebra with no ears left. Or any other parts either really. That is the joy of a dog toy to Bertie, taking the bits off of them, one by one. And when it comes to new dog beds, the real pleasure is discovering what the stuffing is like. 

He had a bit of a disgraceful walk this morning, just for a change. First of all he ate something before I could call him off. Okay, I wouldn't have been able to call him off, but let's just pretend I could if I'd spotted it all in time. Then he found a pigeon's egg and ate that and it didn't smell fresh. At all. Then he spotted his friend and ran to catch up because her person has a pocket full of really big dog treats. He sat down in front of her so that she couldn't keep walking and felt obliged to get the treats out. He gulped his down in one, then when his friend popped hers on the path for a minute so that she could readjust it, he ate that one too. It's not the first time he's done it either, he has form. She's a rescue dog who used to live on the street in a far-flung country, but to look at the two of them you would think he was the one who was worried about where his next meal is coming from. She is all dainty and polite and he is a grabber and a stuffer.

The younger two urchins were away on a school trip last week. Oh the peace. Literally not one raised voice all week. Teachers are utterly marvellous aren't they. A whole week with other people's children. I got so much work done. Which is just as well as I've got stacks of it at the moment. All good, but a bit wearing. The odd afternoon off would be nice, but I'm pretty much working every day, have been for ages. It makes me slightly stressed when I think about the other things that need to be done, but it's nice to have the work and I'm not complaining. 

I am reading Ninth House and avoiding David Copperfield, which is what the middle boy says I should be reading, before I get to Barbara Kingsolver's Demon Copperhead, which I am very much looking forward to. David Copperfield has a lot of pages and all of them have a lot of words on them and they are printed in a very small font. I wouldn't mind, I do like Charles Dickens, but my reading time is short and David would take up all of it for a very long time. 

I fear the cricket season is on the horizon. Grass has been mowed, boundary netting is up, white lines are being painted. There are four pairs of cricket pads in the house (at least) and the littlest boy claims that none of them fit him. It will pain me to have to purchase more. And we are running out of storage space. There must be at least seven golf bags in the garage and three giant cricket bags in the house as well as a piano and several guitars. I take up almost no room in comparison to everyone else. Just a small cardigan collection modest capsule wardrobe, a jar of kefir and 42 notebooks. 

How is everything at your end? Lots of space or all crammed in amongst the cricket gear? Hope all going well. CJ xx