Friday, 21 August 2020

Friday

There is a howling gale - the noise is quite fearsome and there is without a doubt no walk today for Percy and me, we would have difficulty in keeping our wheels and feet.   And in any case I needed to stay in today for two reasons.   The first of these was the delivery of my locally cooked ready meals - they are delicious and can now be bought in single, for one, portions.  They can be eaten fresh or they can be frozen and they are made by a very reputable local company.  I kept out the Lasagne for lunch today and the rest have been frozen = pork goulash, hunter's chicken, fish pie, chicken in white wine sauce, the lot and my freezer is full to bursting.   I had it with garden peas, it was deliciously tasty and the house smells beautiful!

 

The other reason for staying in is that the electrician is coming to try and locate the source of a noise like a switch which has been annoying me ever since I came to live here.   It suggests a thermostat clicking on and off and sometimes it keeps me awake at night.   By the time I am writing this he has been and has disconnected one possible source of the noise but in fact I think I have heard the noise again since he went.   But we did have a pleasant chat about our little town and all the old shops which  have long since disappeared.  He is a local and has never lived anywhere else whereas I am very much an 'incomer' but I have now lived here for thirty three years so I am getting there.

 

Television-wise it is one of my favourite evenings of the week as Monty Don is presenting 'Gardeners' World' at eight o'clock.   How my father would have loved Monty.   I loved my father very much - he was a kind and gentle man and he taught me a love of all nature.  Here is a poem I wrote some years ago in his memory (he died in 1971)

                            'The Armchair Gardener'         

                Swathes of poppies,

                banks of delphiniums,

                fronds of ferns and

                a cascade of pools.   

 

                He planned it all from the

                comfort of his armchair.

                Outside

                golden dandelions     

                and a rash of purple thistles 

                painted their own canvas. 

31 comments:

rallentanda said...

What a beautiful poem and tribute to your father.

Country Cottage said...

Lovely. xx

Derek Faulkner said...

Been the same howling gale down here as well Pat and combined with strong sunshine has made the damp soil from a couple of days ago after rain, now a distant memory.
Have to say that I'm beginning to prefer the other guy on Gardeners World now, Adam something.

coffeeontheporchwithme said...

Your meals sound wonderful! When you reheat them, do you use your oven / stove, or can you reheat them in the microwave? -Jenn (I wish we could see Gardeners World here. I think I would enjoy it!)

Sol said...

we had a clicking noise that I couldnt locate at night. We had to sleep downstairs for a while when we first moved in. It turned out the click noise was the kettles temperature gauge cooling with the house at night. There is a similar click here for the main door closing. It was loud enough to wake me, due to it sounding like the door. I hope you find it. We now have a high pitch noise, I can hear. I thought it was the radio alarm clock but it could be the internet router.

Simon Douglas Thompson said...

My workplace is the most exposed part of the town and the wind has been howling all day. Dropped away now.

Joanne Noragon said...

I would love to have those meals delivered to my door!

Cro Magnon said...

I very rarely buy ready-meals (here they hardly exist), but I do remember buying some Lasagne from M & S in Brighton, and it was the best I've ever tasted.

Ms. said...

Loved your loving poem and all the news except the gale and the click that persists. Thanks for sharing.

The Feminine Energy said...

Awwwww, I love your poem! Bless you as you remember your Dad. Love, Andrea xoxo

AK Coldweather said...

Your poem gave me a lovely visual... purple thistle... mmmmm...

Librarian said...

What a lovely way to honour your Dad and what he meant to you.
I remember you telling us about the switch noise in your house. Funny that not even the electrician has been able to get to the bottom of it.
Your ready meals sound good, and they have nothing in common with the convenience ones that people buy from supermarkets; they are more like home cooked and then stored.

Rachel Phillips said...

Did you mention the expansion and contraction of the roof/rafters/weather theory to the electrician?

Heather said...

I love the tribute to your father. Mine was a keen gardener too.
I think we must have entered the monsoon season as rain has been lashing down, almost sideways here this morning.
Those prepared meals sound delicious. Bon appetit! (I hope that is the correct spelling!)

The Weaver of Grass said...

Rachel - we have discussed this with various folk over the years but it really does sound more like a switch.
Jenn - some of the reheating of meals specifies oven and some microwave but I have a Remoska and that usually takes care of them.
Derek - Nothing or nobody will take the place of Monty for me - for various reasons but not least because (like so many women) I find him fanciable!

Thanks for your contributions everyone.

John "By Stargoose And Hanglands" said...

Lovely little poem to your father, it also reminds me of my dad who loved to watch the gardening programmes (Percy Thrower, in his day of course) about flowers, but then would always grow vegetables in his own plot, a legacy of some of the hard times he'd lived through when flowers would have been an unforgiveable luxury, though he did relent a little in later years. Monty Don has one of those relaxed voices which makes you feel all is well with the world, ironic in that he's certainly faced some demons in his life.

thelma said...

I often wonder if Monty has some extra help in the garden, it is a beautiful garden, well structured with beds. It is funny how our houses have all these little noises we can't place.

Rachel Phillips said...

If Monty Don was the last man on earth I would not fancy him.

Tom Stephenson said...

I hope your electrician has not cured the problem by disconnecting your full freezer, Weave!

Ursula said...

@Rachel. You can acknowledge a man's/woman's merits without "fancying" them.

Weaver, those meals sound great. Good food important for the soul. The noise of high winds? I once camped near a coast line (say five meters away), South of France (not that that was any consolation), the waves lapping against the stony shore all night. I won't even mention that the way we'd pitched the tent, for reasons I can't quite fathom, my feet were higher than my head. Same head nearly done in the next morning.

On a practical note, what does Percy do for toileting if/when you can't take him out? It's easy with cats and their litter tray.

Sometimes I have to remind myself how good we have it here at the South Coast. Sure, the odd gust - usually when turning a corner - may threaten to sweep you of your feet but on the whole our weather is benign.

Wishing you a not so noisy weekend, take care,
U

PS As your beloved father would have appreciated Monty the gardener, my dear dear grandfather would have loved David Attenborough's nature programs. I shed a tear yesterday on the anniversary of my grandfather's 123rd birthday. To think that someone born in 1897 can have such lasting impact. Incidentally he died on his birthday - 86 years later.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Thelma I am sure Monty has help with his garden and I don't think we see the half of it. I would miss seeing him - I just think he is a really nice chap and I love the way he is with his dogs.

Ruth said...

I love your poem!! I think it describes so many more of us, me included.

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