Wednesday 31st March 2021

A man about a roof.

Yes, I was supposed to say something about this. Well, in short we need a new roof.

Thankfully its not that bad a thing for us, we have the money, kinda, just need someone to fix it.

A couple of weeks ago there was an easterly storm, unusal as most come and blow from the west. So, out house and roof took full force, and a slate was dislodged and slid down the roof and was caught by the gutter.

So, not much to do there.

I have been in contact with a roofer, through one of those tradesperson apps, and anyway, after two weeks he came round on Tuesday, looked at the outside and made whistling sounds. Not good. Then he went into the attic and made tut-tutting noises.

He showed me where water was running down the chimney and getting above the main bedroom, though that has yet to soak through, and pointing to the gable end, you can see where the wind has lifted the tiels allowing water to get in.

We could have it sealed, for two grand, or reslated for five. We are chosing the latter because it will last longer.

But we have to wait for scaffolding to become available, and then the slates, so will be in a month. As long as its before next autumn.

The orchid season is never the same. One year the first spikes did not flower until May Day Bank Holday, and other years some can see them in March. In 2020, spikes were seen in Kent, in March, in flower. But then there was lockdown, so I could not go out. And by the time we did venture out, the Early Purples were nearly over.

So, this year, I was hoping for flowering spikes in March, so I could say I saw them once. And Wednesday being the 31st March, or the 395th day of March 2020, if you like, was my last chance. So I said I would have the car, drop Jools off in the morning and collect her in the evening.

So it was we drove in the cool morning, down Jubilee Way, along Townwall Street and up Shakespeare Down to Folkestone before taking the road over the top into Hythe, dropping JOols off outside the office at quarter to eight.

I then had the whole day to myself.

And the weather should have been good. It was at first, and then clouded over.

So, first of all, drove up Stone Street to Stelling then down the narrow track to Yockletts, parking in the tiny layby. It felt cool but was already 15 degrees, and I had hopes of orchids.

In fact there were rosettes everywhere.

But none flowering.

I walked up to the lower meadow, and looked out at the sunny valley laid out in front of me, I looked at the trees around, hoping to see a Brimstone on the wing, but there were no butterflies.

I walk down through the wood, looking at all the Fly Orchid rosettes, over the road, stopping to check on the Townhall Clock Plants, which were recovering after being flattened during clearance work over the winter.

Up the path I looked for Greater Butterfly, saw a couple of possible rosettes, then again for the Herb Paris, whose unfolding leaves I expected to see pushing up through the leaf litter.

But there were none.

And after climbing to the top meadow, there were Lady roesettes everywhere, a couple with spikes forming, at least two weeks away, but I did see a CSO rosette as far advanced as any in the shade, and that should not bloom until late may!

I walk through the bluebell wood for the first time this year, and see a few Early Purple rosettes, but only the beginning of spikes seen on the half dozen rosettes there.

Down the bottom of the slope, where there had been clearance work two or three years back, there was a host of Lady Orchids rosettes, none close to flowering, but in a month or so, will be spectacular.

I walk back along the lower path, checking every primrose for a feeding Brimstone, but none seen.

And as I walked back tot he car, clouds appeared above, a thin sheet at first, but getting darker and thicker as time went on.

Little point in butterfly chasing with such poor light then.

Last chance was the early wood, just along the valley where the winterbourne was drying up pretty quickly.

I park at the gate, grab my camera and walk down the bridleway to the path leading to the farmland beyond, here are a dozed EPOs, which had well developed spikes on Saturday, it was hoping against hope that they would be in flower.

And they were not.

And due to the cloud, the swarms of Brimstones were still roosting, and even sitting on a bench for half an hour to see if the cloud lifted brought no butterflies.

So I walked back to the car and then drove home through Bridge to the A2, and home.

Sigh.

I had the car and no where to go.

I listened to music, wrote as I would be busy in the evening, shouting at the tellybox as England were playing.

At quarter past four, I leave to go and collect Jools, tricky as much of HYthe is closed due to some TV show filming. It will be worse on Thursday, apparently. But I get there, wait for her to come out at five, so we can go home.

ON the way I saw an accident on the other side of the A20. Well, something, and as I carried on, more an more fire engines, police cars and ambulances rushed to the scen. I asked Jools to check the traffic, and the road was closed. So, instead, we drove up the Eham Valley to Barham, before cutting through to the A2 again, and then home, it had only taken an extra 15 minutes.

Back home I make fritters, every time they taste different, which is good I feel.

It was a "dry" day, but anyway I was feeling parched so a pint of squash was fine, I thought little of my big toe throbbing, until it began to really ache as I watched football.

I can get mild gout: I had one other attack, seven years ago whilst on holiday, and it smarts I can tell you. Feels like it is broken, but as the doctor told me then, the force needed to beak a big toe is so large, you's remember it.

I hoped it would go off, so watched the England game, which was OK, and Engerland won 2-1.

But by the time I went to bed at ten, I could bear no weight on my toe, and sleep would be fitful.

Sigh.