John Henry's got nothing on me

I was trying hard to dig up some bush/tree stumps with a fork. Husband came along and said, "You need a pickaxe."

He disappeared to the shed returning moments later with said pickaxe. "I don't know what to do with that," I said. He proceeded to show me - but carefully. It will be a month or so before he can handle a pickaxe as he used to.

It took a while and a lot of muttering but ta-dah!

And the hole.

Still hundreds of roots in the earth as well as the remaining stumps. It will take time, a whole lot of time.

Bread and potatoes

Elder Son talked about bread-making when we walked on Saturday and it gave me the urge to make cranberry pecan bread again. Last time it wasn't very good with so I tried a different recipe, and as I was following it I became convinced it was going to be a disaster. 

First of all the dough wouldn't stick together so I added more water. Then it was too sloppy so I added more flour. The mixer struggled to knead it so I took it out and finished it by hand but when I added the pecans and cranberries they were impossible to incorporate into the dough. Each time I folded some in, others fell out. Then I put it in the greenhouse to rise and Husband knocked it over.

So all in all I wasn't very hopeful.

While it was rising I planted some potatoes. A bag of salad potatoes I'd had in the pantry were shooting.

I have no idea if they'll grow but decided to give it a go. Halfway through planting it occurred to me that the shoots might be stalks not roots so I planted them the other way up. We shall see. My caulis are still alive after a week so I consider that a win. Unlike the runner beans that have been eaten away. (I think they were runner beans but I can't remember how I acquired them.)

Back to the bread. After brushing it with honey I stuck it in the oven expecting a solid unpalatable rock to emerge.

What did emerge was a pleasant surprise. As long as you avoided the rock-hard cranberries on the surface it was definitely edible.

Awaiting the sock

I cleaned the bathroom this morning and while my back was turned Husband was in the garden. Up a ladder with a chainsaw cutting dripping wet trees.

"I've made it to seventy-five years old doing stupid things," he gave as an excuse.

It's a bit disheartening. It took me hours and hours to cut back the bushes and clear the fence; he thinned and cleared branches on the right in ten minutes with a chain-saw. But, still, he shouldn't have been doing it!

Other big news: I sorted out my sock drawer this morning. And I did a rash thing: I threw away an odd sock. Now I'm on tenterhooks waiting for the matching one to appear.

Then walked with Elder Son, GrandSon3, and Toby in Parc Le Breos, and visited the longest cave in Gower, over a mile long. 

Elder Son told me he'd been for an eye test - and nearly fainted. No genetic testing needed to prove he's my son. I thought I was the only person who could nearly faint at the optician's.

* * * * *

Finally I have downloaded and printed off a petition to take to church tomorrow. It's to send to our MP to ask him to vote against the assisted dying bill, third reading on June 20th. I am not entirely opposed to the idea but it's the way the bill has been rushed through and lots of safety measures abandoned on the way that concerns me.

* * * * *

Dinner tonight was Marry Me Pasta. 

A creamy chicken and spinach pasta dish. Very nice but I don't think I'd propose to the chef.

Booked

Tickets that is not me. For Operation Mincemeat in Swansea Grand Theatre in September 2026! (Note for self - they have emailed me e-tickets, must remember this for when I panic and can't find them.) This is the show I booked for us in London last year then had to cancel twice because of Husband's illness. The tickets only went on sale this morning but by the time I booked this afternoon the best seats had gone. The best = my favourite, in just the right position.

And Husband has just booked a house in Cornwall for a week in July for us, Daughter, Elder Son, families, and dogs. Then in late August we'll holiday with Younger Son and family in Italy.

And I've booked an early anniversary lunch for us in Slice, our favourite restaurant. 

This has been an unusually dynamic day for us.

In between I've been jigsawing and gardening. I've mentioned that I'm a disorganised gardener, which is all very well until it comes to weeding. "Does that look like something I might have planted or is it a weed?"

Our first wild strawberry has appeared. We seem to be more successful at wild than tame probably because the wild just grow themselves.

Gorse you do

Over on Arctic Fox's blog he's written about a big fire that damaged woodland and says that it was unlikely to have been the result of spontaneous combustion. This set me thinking.

Every year we see gorse fires on the cliffsides. If I thought about them at all, I'd probably have thought they were natural, as in they just happened. Considering that idea now it seems unlikely so I did a little research.

According to Mike Raine on Notes from the Hill:

Gorse burning has been a longstanding tradition in Wales, deeply rooted in land management and rural culture. This practice, often referred to as swailing, involves controlled burning of gorse, heather, and other vegetation to promote new growth, manage landscapes, and reduce wildfire risks. 

Gorse burning in Wales remains a complex issue, intertwining history, ecology, and modern land management. Whether seen as a necessary tool or a problematic tradition, it highlights the ongoing conversation between conservation and agricultural heritage. As debates continue, one thing is certain: fire has shaped the Welsh landscape for generations, and its management will remain a crucial topic for years to come.

Farmers and landowners can burn heather, grass, bracken, and gorse from 1 October up until 15 March but they need a licence to do so outside the burning season in Wales.

There's even a government paper on it.  

However gorse fires started deliberately and without control are a major problem for the fire service across the country.

So now you know all you need - and probably more than you wanted - to know about gorse fires.

In my weakness

I am so frustrated with my weakness, my inability to dig up tree stumps. Knowing I'm going to have to get someone to do that for me.

I'll try again tomorrow. Mutter, mutter.

Meanwhile, did I show you the wild orchids from the tip?

No, not the tip. We haven't seen them there yet. Another walking spot.

Smashing it

Went to what I thought was a meeting last night; turned out to be a social event. I'm not good at social events.

And sometimes I'm not good at keeping my mouth shut. We have a gentleman who sometimes comes to bible study. He's a bit of an oddball with strange beliefs, most of which he gets from a prophet called Elizabeth Elijah, who apparently is on such good terms with God that He tells her everything.

So, as you can imagine, some of his ideas are a bit off the wall. Sometimes I question his statements but there's no point really so mostly I keep quiet but on Tuesday he said, "We're not going to be allowed to have Christmas soon. The Muslims won't let us."
My mouth, "Oh for goodness sake, don't talk rubbish!"

I shall have to apologise next time I see him as it's playing on my conscience.

* * * * *

Husband finished gym rehab last week. This week he went for a review where they assessed his progress. He had to walk back and for for six minutes. Before rehab he managed three hundred metres; this week he did five hundred. Apparently they anticipate an improvement of about twenty metres not two hundred. "You smashed it!" they said.

* * * * *

There's been an empty card pack on the stairs for weeks now. I don't want to throw it away because an unboxed set of cards is sure to turn up if I do. On the other hand, if I move it it will be forgotten about and I'll never throw it away. So it stays on the stairs.

* * * * *

Went into Zac's today to do some more clothes organising. While I'm mostly sorted now next time I will have to take in all the cleaning gear because there's a thick layer of dust everywhere, including upstairs. Work is progressing though and there's talk it could be finished by the end of next week. Then it will need a major clean-up and painting, so we're still sort of on target for re-opening early July.

The newly-plastered and widened corridor leading to what was the Ladies' but will be a Ladies'/disabled toilet and shower room.

Previously.

Toby the rover

Used a new recipe last night for rhubarb cake. It was easy and very light and tasty. I'll probably put more rhubarb in next time though. 

It was used as a birthday cake for Sam in Zac's. (I'd taken two slices out before I left the house . . .)

You can't tell that Sam is only pretending to blow out candles, can you? It was so windy I couldn't even light them!

* * * * *

Lovely walk with Husband, Daughter and two dogs this morning. Lovely until Toby wandered off. That in itself isn't unusual - he's a great rover - but we knew a dog he was obsessed with was also out on the tip so I took the path up to the road to make sure he hadn't gone that way. He hadn't but he didn't rejoin Husband until I'd walked to the road and was on the way back. At least two miles! (-ish, or a lot less.)

Then it was back out into the garden for more clearing. Ta-dah . . .

The bulk of the clearing and clearing up is done now. I still have to work out how to get rid of the bamboo. I suspect it will be cutting them back each time they appear until they give up hope. We've also got a couple of tree stumps that will need digging out before I can replant. I'm thinking azaleas for some late Spring colour. 

And I can almost feel the roses beginning to straighten up as they realise they don't have to lean to find the sun.

Copacetic

Another ten bags plus one huge builders' merchant' bag went to the tip again this morning. And eight bags out for the recycling men. We're getting there.

Meanwhile in Connections (a word game, you're given sixteen words and have to put them into four groups) I guessed one connection correctly but didn't recognise the theme of the link. I mean, I recognised they were all similar meanings but apparently they all meant/were copacetic. Meaning, sound, in good order. It's an American word.

* * * * *

Charles Darwin made a list of pros and cons of getting married and staying single. One of the pros of staying single was, "More money to buy books." You can't argue with that.

If you can get BBC Radio where you are you can listen to Ruth Padel on her personal journey to find out more about her great-great-grandfather, Mr Darwin.

* * * * *

Exercise class this morning. I thought I was going to be late because I couldn't find, first, my bra, and then my shoes. "Sorry, I can't come to class. My bra is missing."

Anyway found them both and set off arriving just before starting time of 9.30. But the place was locked up. Last time this happened the class had been cancelled and I hadn't known because I wasn't on the whatsapp group. Now I am and hadn't read anything to suggest there was no class.

Got home and messaged the group. "No class today?"
Ross replied, "I'm just about to open up."

Ah, yes, that's right, class begins at 10.00. Not 9.30.

Turned around, went back out of the door, and drove to class. Worth it though because Ross said I was the hardest worker there! (Can you hear me say that? The pride in my voice? Ignoring the fact that we're a class of older persons.)

* * * * *

I don't like picking my roses but it was stormy last night and they're getting battered.

And here's the link to my latest article for Gower Community Magazine. It's a theme I've used before, the bindweed of my mind.

Everything's coming up . . .

We took eight bags to the tip this morning. Came back and refilled the bags. Currently we have twelve full bags. If we take eight again tomorrow I can refill and put eight out for collection by the recycling men on Wednesday.

I've spent a large part of today chopping branches into bag-size pieces. Still a huge pile to go . . .

I also planted two cauliflower plants I was given in church. I wanted to separate them but they wouldn't let me so I feel less than hopeful already.

I've never grown caulis. I don't even know how they grow. I guess it's like sprouts but not so many on one plant. But it must be more than one cauli per plant otherwise the country would have to be covered in cauliflower fields.

Now some roses that aren't climbers or ramblers.

From my vantage point in amongst the bushes I thought my our garden was looking particularly lovely.

In my clearing I uncovered a golf ball, a tree trunk, a Welsh flag, and a jam jar. A disappointing haul.

* * * * *

I went to the shop yesterday planning on getting a ready meal but when I got there I remembered a recipe I'd seen on facebook. It was simple - at least the way I remembered it, it was - so got the ingredients for that instead. Basically throw Philadelphia cheese with herbs and garlic, lots of little tomatoes, garlic and seasoning in a dish, drizzle with oil, and cook for a bit - I was unsure how long - then add spinach, basil, and those little pasta packets of spinach and ricotta - can't remember what they're called - and cook again briefly. It was nice.