It is official: I am a derr-brain! Last year I planted food-stuff in an effort to have some crops for Spring. That didn't really work but hey-ho! My onions just didn't seem to be growing. Last week I clocked my neighbours onions (that's not a double-entendre btw!!) Blimey they were huge. Today I stood looking at mine, they are OK but not a patch on his.... As the top leaves were dying off I decided to end my pain and torture, (and competitive growing,) so I pulled them up. Bugger me! ('scuse the french,) they aren't onions at all; they are garlic - massive garlics..... The kitchen pongs a bit now. I'm not a champion onion grower, I'm a champion garlic grower. Yeah!
'Oo Oo Oo,' she said, bouncing up and down with excitement like a child needing a wee! We've been to the fine art auctions again in Ludlow, on the lookout for old tat to replace the newish tat we arrived at The Larches with. The cheap Swedish stuff from the blue store looks so out of place here. I'd rather have Agneta (also from Sweden) design my home....
Hubby was like a boy trapped in a sweet shop. He bought 4 spurious little oak tables for £5, exceptionally good for drinks and family snacks in the sitting room! He bought a short chest of drawers and yet another table for £8!! I bought two old school desks with cute inkwells for £12!!! He countered with a pink striped sofa in really gorgeous condition for £20!!!!
But the pièce de résistance was the dresser: Victorian, Welsh dresser-like, it is pine and veneered with two glazed display cupboards, flanking shelves, 3 wide drawers and a lower cabinet to hide away my occasional crockery. At 72" wide there is a slight hitch, we can't get it in the car and Dizzy Disco needs a new clutch so we can't tow it back home just yet...or the sofa for that matter. But soon, soon....... I've got such plans for the kitchen now, can't wait to get started.
I'm not sure the children will last the summer. Having been out of school for almost 10 days their brains have rotted: Today they thought it might be amusing to jump up and down on the dung heap, deliberately disturbing a giganta-ant colony (they're big up here in Shropshire.) The little creatures fought back, running up the inside of the sproglet's clothes, biting all the way. Fair play really.
I heard the screams several fields away and raced to find the 5yo hysterical, tearing off his clothes on the top of the poo mountain. The 7yo was less eaten and was spitting on a doc leaf and rubbing at her injuries.
'Good job I didn't show them the wasp nest yet...' commented hubby. Hmmmmmmmm.