Sunday 6th September 2015

Saturday

A day of chores.

It is surprising what I can squeeze into a day out of the orchid season and when there is not league football on. I mean there are literally hours to fill with stuff; who knew?

It goes without saying that we needed some groceries, and with Jools having a hair cut booked for eight, we would have to be out and about early. And so it was I was driving to Deal at ten to seven in the morning to whiz round Sainsbury's so I can be back home in time for Jools to drive into Dover. It almost goes without saying that there are people of a certain age out shopping at that time of the morning, and we are now ones of their number.

I am laden with beer and fruit, s drive back through the early morning sunshine, in more than enough time for Jools to make her appointment. She then has to get back so I can go out and have my barnet mangled too. We drove into town, Jools dropped me off on Cherrytree, as parking is impossible due to roadworks being done. There is a queue of one outside the shop, I join it and catch up with one of the barbers before Alan lets us in and lets us know is in a bad mood, or worse than usual, as he has had flu. Anyway, after the usual exchange of insults, I get my hair cut, and feel cooler right away.

I wait outside the shop for Jools to come back from Dover, where she had been running errands, only for her to emerge from Lidl with cheese in hand. Something I had forgotten. That done, we could go home. Only, I seem to have brought my cameras, maybe we could go to the cliffs to check on the Autumn Lady's Tresses. And there was you thinking the season was over? Well, these are the very last, and we will have seven orchid-less months ahead through the winter.

The car pak beside Bluebirds is almost empty now, where just a week ago there were half a dozen campervans, but now just the one were there, and they drive off soon after we arrive. I look at the grass, and at first I don't see any spikes, but around the other side of the grass square there are several spikes, some in flower, with many others pushing through the turf. The ones I saw last week have gone, but I think they have been nibbled by rabbits, the floppy-eared bastards! How dare they eat orchids?! Anyway, I get a handful of shots, good enough for me, so we can now go home, and oh look, lunchtime already!

Jools has arranged to have lunch with her sister, so I am to be home alone, and there is no football to listen to. But Jools had suggested that the shed needed painting with preservative. And after my initial expression of tish and pish, I had decided that I would do that in the afternoon when she was out. And that is what I did: Jools left with with me a quarter through one of the larger sides, but with a two inch brush I get the work done steadily, and it is not that bad. And once it dries, the shed looks brand new again. Wow, that was worth doing.

Jools comes back with passionflower tarts, so we eat them with a large coffee, now that is better.

All is on hold until 5 when England kick off, and these international matches are now some of the few games live on free to air TV. So, armed with a stupidly strong Dansih beer, I take a seat on the sofa with Molly to watch England battle the might that is San Marino. Needless to say, it wasn't the hardest game the Three Lions would ever play, and ran out easy 6-0 winners. Straight after, I get to work in the kitchen; breaded pork, lentil dahl and corn. All good stuff, and tasty too.

Already outside it was getting dark and so somehow, another day had slipped by