Our intention was to start on the back garden project today, taking advantage of a dry spell. The first point of action is to be what we call the quince archology, outside the smaller kitchen window. It’s a small bed containing a quince tree, and a hideous tangle of a thing that could be a mock orange but isn’t. What it is throughout the growing season is a heaving mass of blackfly. We intend to cut out and remove everything but the quince, give that a trim, and top dress the bed with some good rotted compost as a weed-suppressing mulch.
Graham elected as his first step to go out to the garage and assemble our as yet unused garden shredder, leaving me to murgle in the warm.
He finished the task, so I’m told, and came staggering back into the house, all blue with cold, to lean against the radiator in the hall, trying to warm up.
“It’s so cold out there today,” he chattered.
“Right. Leave it at that. These nor’easterlies are deadly.”
He needed no more encouragement than that and, once he’d warmed through, spend the day puttering at a new wired phone network, aimed at putting phones in the living room and the main bedroom, with a distribution socket in his (upstairs) study. Just the right kind of job for an indoor day.
The sun poured into my study window and I dozed the morning away until it was time for lunch. Sesame bagels. Then I dozed the afternoon away until now, at 19:45, first glass of wine by my side, I’m about to pluck up courage and go peel potatoes ready for dinner. Pork loin chops, sweet corn and mash, with a dollop of tomato chutney for colour and extra zing.
Then, no doubt, I shall doze the rest of the evening away until it’s time to go to bed.
Not an eventful day, and very light on photo opportunities, but when there’s a bitter wind beating at the door it’s best to stay quietly at home in the warm.
Staying quietly at home in the warm sounds like an excellent plan.
John, I want to eat at your place!
Yes, those outdoor projects will need to go on hold, until fairer weather…
I had plans to potter in the brown garden today, then it snowed last night….again !
We’re having the same tea…pork chops, mashed potatoes, corn….snap !
Yum….
John, I am sorry if I seem rude, pushy or nosey, but you guys are totally tearing this place apart. Is it your plan to fix it and sell the place, as you have done with your other homes?
Some people just like to do over thier homes and actually enjoy all that entails.
Ah, quince trees. Back in my childhood, our nextdoor neighbor had a quince tree in their backyard but didn’t know what to do with the fruit (making jams and jellies was not on the neighbor’s skills list). So my mother made a deal — she would harvest the fruit, make jam and then give some of the jars of jam to our neighbor. Oh, how I loved that quince jam. Every once in a while I can find quince jam in a store, but it is fairly rare. I’ve noticed quince trees in a gardening catalog… hmmm, I wonder…
Well you can guess where we were before the sleet hits. Kahinah is now safely in my office. Now what to do about the fish…?
Not rude in the least, Gary. We’re certainly planning to totally fix this place. There’s no intention to sell this one however–we really like it here and, short of a lottery win, we can’t see us getting anywhere better for the cash we have in our house fund. Andrew’s point yesterday of moving south away from the cold does have an appeal, though…
“These nor’easterlies are deadly”… You got that right, John. We’re having a doozy right now that’s to last through Wednesday into Thursday.
Last report was we’re to expect 10-14 inches. Yech.
You could nip out the back door and get a before photo of the mess for us. Thank you. I like before and after shots.
I’m with you, Jim. Quince trees are few & far between here in Massachusetts. For a few years I begged quinces off a woman in a neighboring town, but after she sold the house the first thing the bastids who bought the place did was cut down the 150-year-old quinces & replace them with fill and fake stone pavers. I’m still longing for quince jam and membrillo that I made from the squeezings. . . Enjoy that tree, John!