This week was supposed to be a quiet week, and in a way, it was. On Sunday, I made it to church and the choir sang one of my favourite anthems, Panis Angelicus, with music by Cesar Frank.
I was also reading that morning but I hit a bit of a problem and was not at all well, but managed to soldier on and dashed home at the end of the service, and spent the rest of the day rather poorly. The next day, of course was Bank Holiday.
I felt well enough to mow the lawns and do a little gardening and later took the dogs for a short walk. All through the afternoon the noise from the big ‘Pockfest’ in the town was booming across the area and it sounded as if it was great fun.
On Tuesday, I rang the surgery and was given a prescription for antibiotics which I duly collected. By ten I had taken my first one and was off out with the dogs for a mega walk, up in the Wolds, on one of my favourites and it was a glorious morning and there were blue skies, fluffy clouds and the temperature was warm but not oppressive.
We had a wonderful walk, with views over Welldale and far off over the Vale of York and up to other hills. The countryside is really beautiful at the moment, and the harvests are almost done.
Every day I venture into my garden and pick beans and cucumbers. I found myself with so many cucumbers I have been giving them to friends all week. I also have plums and pears in abundance. The beans I can freeze but the rest I have to either eat, cook, or give away. I have also been clearing out cupboards and on Thursday had accumulated many edible, but out of date, or unwanted things so I took off to my friends to give this to the chickens she has.
I arrived just in time to help with a rather large project, when her husband needed to drastically prune their very old and rather top-heavy willow tree in their back garden. He is frightened of heights and not too happy on ladders either. His daughter is terrified of both and her mother doesn’t even attempt such tasks. I offered to go up and do it, but he said no, it was his responsibility.
We discussed this and with a few suggestions we decided on a plan, which worked very well.
In the evening, it was a practice for The Pirates of Penzance, and it went very well. The next day, after a very early walk with the dogs, I spent the day at home, and began sorting out many years’ worth of craft equipment, that I had accumulated. This was a much larger task that I had thought it would be.
Having loaded up numerous duplicate or triplicate things for disposal I then asked a friend of mine, who is a brilliant seamstress, if she wanted to come and see if there was anything she could use. It was when we were looking through some boxes and drawers that we discovered that the thing I had a multitude of were sewing needles. Even if I live to be 150 I will never even use a tenth of them.