Wot, no doors?

We don't really have internal doors in this house. There's one to the bathroom (thank goodness), and another going from the house to my studio. But that's it.

This means that we have no means of stopping the dogs leaving their comfy 'rest-a-while' chew-proof black plastic beds, and settling down for the night in the sitting room; which they are perfectly welcome to do.

However, they are banned from sleeping on the sofas at night (or any time), so I always put chairs on them before I go to bed.

Bok couldn't care less. Even if he has to sleep with chair legs up his 'Whitehall farce', he will do so just to be awkward.

This is how I found him this morning; he was still half asleep. 

..... and don't you stick your tongue out at me, you Monkey!

Veggie Wednesday 7. Sparra' Grass.

It's hot, dry, and it's Asparagus season, so if one is going to eat Veggie, then why not simply eat a whole plateful of the stuff. It's quick-n-easy; if not cheap.

I must admit that there really was enough for two (500gms), but what the hell; extravagance is something I've been trying to perfect.

In fact I didn't eat all of it; I saved half to have cold for lunch tomorrow (today).

As for the inevitable results of Asparagus eating; it gives me renewed confidence in the internal workings of the human body; and in particular, my own.

I ate my Sparra' Grass with a slightly lemony Mayo. What a treat; seasonal veg' at its best.

A Minor Quandary.

From my very first year of vegetable growing up at Haddock's, I've always sowed/planted North-South.

As I was planting my red onion sets recently, I wondered if it might not be better to try East-West for a change.

If you believe N/S to be better than E/W, or vice versa, I'd be pleased to hear from you. I'd also like to hear of any 'olde-age wisdome' on the subject, if such exists. 

Haddock's slopes gently down to the South (in the picture, the far distance is South); it's served me very well up until now, so maybe there's no point in 'mending wot ain't broke'.

So far this year I've sowed two rows of Red Baron onions, and planted out a few red cabbage, half a dozen tomato plants, a few sprouts, and some calabrese plants, everything else will have to wait a while (apart from half a row of dwarf beans, which I'm just off to sow).

The ailing NHS.

                                  

Sometimes I really worry about the NHS (The UK's National Health Service).

Even though I don't live in England, I do like to think that all is well with the wonderful health system 'back home'.

Almost daily I hear of hospitals closing, or A & E departments closing, or the system being over-run by over-paid managers. One really does wonder what on earth's gone wrong.

Just this morning I heard an NHS radio advert (on LBC, for the 100th time) advising me to put on extra clothes when it's cold. Well, thank you NHS; I'll bear that in mind, now that Spring is here!

Give me bloody strength; no wonder they're short of cash.

The Passing of Time.

                             
                                  

Mid-build, 9 October 2010. Those roof timbers really were nailed together, after having roughed-out a few 'back of an envelope' designs.

April 2014. The 'tower' is now 3½ years old, and already it's looking reasonably mellow. Later in the year it'll look even better.

Planting has gone quite well (in my opinion). Reflecting on the actual building process itself, it now seems almost unbelievable, or even foolhardy, that two inexperienced old-fogies managed to do what we did (we thought as much at the time).

                           

When Lady Magnon returns from her travels, we shall move in here for the summer. It really is the best bedroom you could possibly imagine. I can hardly wait.

Chaudière.

I'd managed to break the back off one of my set of four metal garden chairs, so, not having a welding kit of my own, I've been obliged to visit the local man 'wot fixes stuff'.

His yard is a treasure chest of old machines, weird bits of rusting metal, and plain old rubbish; think Fred Dibnah's back garden!

Amongst other delights was this magnificent rusting Grandpa Potts style chaudière (furnace/boiler?).

It was standing there out in the open, looking as if it still performs some purpose, but goodness knows what! I just had to take its photo.

I tried to imagine it sand-blasted, polished, and installed up at our old tobacco drying barn. It would have made the most wonderful heating system; and would certainly have been a fantastic 'conversation piece'.

I asked him if he actually used it; unfortunately he did. Pity!

Boules player.

I posted similar pictures of my cheeky Boules player jug about 4 years ago, but I'm giving him a second outing.

I bought him about 25 years ago. He was sitting in the window of a small village tobacconist/newsagent, and I simply couldn't resist. 

He is the epitome of a southern French Boules player; pencil moustache, white cap and trousers, and garish shirt. If he could speak, he would sound exactly like Fernandel; if he was drinking, it would have to be a Pastis.

I would love to pour wine from him, but I fear that the inside might be too tricky to clean properly.

I'll just have to admire him, and accept that he's simply a 'novelty jug'.