I haven't had an egg in weeks and I fancied a couple for lunch. Now that I can poach them in the microwave in an instant it's a breeze. But the cupboard was bare so I nipped off down the lane to buy some. Luckily I was in the car as the "nip" turned into the grand tour. Have the hens stopped laying already? Sign after sign after sign I passed, all propped up against or pointing to empty tables. Eventually, down a lane I've never been before, I found two boxes filled with massive, very dirty eggs. Normally I wouldn't touch these: when we had our hens we always cleaned the eggs before we sold them: salmonella is so easy to catch. But I was starving by now and they were very good. So is it back to Waitrose for eggs now until the hens get in the mood again in Spring?
The garden work continues, and now I'm laying a line of bricks to separate the edge of the big bed from the path. But I'm kicking myself, I mean really kicking myself. When the old lawn was about to be rotovated, Val told me I should hang on to some of the sods as they turn into wonderful compost. But I wanted them gone, and in the event there were three or four lorry loads. Attached to them was my precious topsoil, but still I didn't reconsider. But working along the hedge side of the garden yesterday where the ground dips down from the main garden, and especially from the summerhouse, it suddenly occurred to me that they could have dumped all those sods along there and they would have levelled out the space beautifully. You'd pay a fortune for that stuff once it's rotted! And I threw it all away. Ah, nose in front of face. Try looking beyond it next time!
No comments:
Post a Comment