Saturday 30th June 2019

Last day of the month

First day of the "round of 16" in the World Cup

Saturday

First day of rest.

As by yesterday, I had written 59 blogs during June and I thought of doing a 6 month review of where we have been together. But what with doing stuff, football, and so on, that didn't happen.

First thing Saturday morning, after coffee, we go to Tesco for the usual hunting and gathering. Being the start of the month, we needed a little more than usual, but we zip round, even after Mr Tesco moved whole sections to the other side of the store, just to confuse us, poor Smeagol.

Saturday was mainly a day of chores and football; when we had the lower patio and shelter done 18 months back, the builders failed to tell us that the stonework needed sealing. Having never had anything like that, how were we to know? The result was that by the end of winter, the stones were covered by a layer of green algae and moss. So, few weeks back we dusted down the steam cleaner and I cleaned the whole patio, and darned good it looked, too. But we needed to apply a sealer, apparently.

The first part, yesterday, was to properly clean the patio; brush it, steam clean it, brush it again when dry.

These things take time, and sweeping each stone back and forth, making sure the algae is cleared off and moved to the edge of the patio, creates a feeling of relaxation. Back and forth, back and forth.

An hour later or so, it was done, we just had to let it dry. The sealer container said three days, in this heatwave, I think tomorrow would be fine.

We do some weeding, planting, tying up plants, and somehow the morning and half the afternoon had passed.

Walking back out into the garden, I see a green damselfly on the honeysuckle bush, so it triggers in me a reminder of things to check, so I go down to one of the wildlife pools to check for discarded insect cases. And sure enough on the stem of a flag iris were two empty exoskeletons, just clinging where the inhabitants had broken through, dried its new wings and flew off.

Nature is incredible.

Inside I cut up a packet and a half of rhubarb, then pop it in a saucepan with some water and sugar, cook it until the chunks begin to break down, and put in two bowls, add cream, so Jools and I can eat. If you would have told the 6 year old me that I would make stewed rhubarb for myself, willingly, he would not have believed you. But there you have it. We all change.

At three, began what 200% liked to call, #shithousesaturday or, four of the teams you like to see lose: France, Argentina, Uruguay and Portugal. But there had to be winners and losers, but even then the two winners will play each other next weekend, so only one of the four will be left standing.

France were very easy on the eye, Mbappe looking like the global superstar in the making he surly is. He scores one, and another after De Maria had equalised. Another quick break before halftime put France in the lead again. Two more in the second half, even with one pulled back meant that Argentina looked very much like the fading power they are, even with Messi playing. Older players, tired tactics and poor team selection meant, than even after a 3rd in injury time wasn't enough, and France went through, rightly so too.

We have a quick dinner of tapas and wine; stuffed vine leaves, chorizo quiche, and other stuff. All lovely.

And then time for more football, where Uruguay ran rings round Portugal, even with Ronaldo.

And all that was left was to sit on the patio as the skies darkened, watching planes flying over, way up high, whilst the village fell asleep.