E la vita

Tea at the Old Rectory yesterday, my second afternoon of cake. I could do with it every day at 4pm prompt, but all that sugar! We talked about everything, but then there were a few sad and unpalatable facts. Joan and John are in separate homes, him in Rendlesham and her in Campsey Ash. They'd been married for over 60 years, for goodness sake. How can this be allowed to happen? Then we got onto the chicken factory, and Patrick told me that each of the three sheds holds 12,000 chicks. They come at just a few days old and stay for 12 weeks when they are carted off to be used in processed food for humans and animals. During the three months they are there the sheds are not cleaned out once. The chicks stand on a thick and ever growing layer of manure. Roughly one third of them die. In the old days the dead chicks would be chucked outside in a pile, and the stench was terrible. We have to get rid of this awful place.

After tea I went home for Hugo and took him up to the Woodland Trust. Caroline told me that she remembered when the trees were planted 25 years ago, after Pound Farm was given to the Trust. Before that it was just open fields and meadowland. As far as I'm concerned what they have done there is brilliant. We went much further afield than usual and discovered a whole new part of it, though chalara (ash die-back) has forced them to close up some parts to contain the disease and reduce the chances of contamination. It's so sad to see these diseases taking hold and felling huge numbers of our trees. Though if the Woodland Trust are in need of healthy saplings I could offer an endless supply as my front garden is a breeding ground for the little sods growing from the seeds of Sarah's large tree.

On the subject of trees, Nick planted my silver birch today while we tried to speak Italian in the summerhouse. He dug down a couple of feet into the lawn and then hit solid concrete. Should he dig another hole in a different place, he asked me? But intoxicated by my ambitious answers to the question "What are you aspirations for next month Denisay" I waved him away with a casual "Whatever you think Nick." And so I lost a golden opportunity to plant the tree where I really wanted it to be and not where my friends thought it should be. Ah, c'est la vie, or as we say in Italy, e la vita.