Fencing Champion

A mere fraction of our fence

For over two years now, we’ve been in our new home, and all this time, we’ve been staring out at a featureless rectangle of grass bordered by sinister dark green shrubs.

Finally we found some nice landscape gardeners who were able to drill out some old foot-deep concrete, lay a patio and dig out a pond for us.  They also removed the laurels as we requested.

And now the dominant note in our garden is very much “Fence”.  We have unbroken wastes of wooden slats to gaze at.  We could not have more fence, even if we had joined Fenceflix and ordered the boxed set of Fence.

This Autumn we have gathered a fantasy football squad of new shrubs – some gold, some silver, some with berries, and have ranged them along the Fence.  We have planted them what seems like an unrealistically huge distance apart to allow for growth.  So we still have a pretty much unimpeded view of Fence.

Perhaps in three or four years’ time, when our little elaeagnuses and pittosporums have heightened and thickened, I shall turn to Nigel and say, “You know, I really miss seeing our fence.”

But I don’t think so.

Anyone for dinner?

Strata of saved dinners are stacking up in the fridge. 

Cannellini and spinach is piled on veg moussaka, is heaped on bulgar with peppers.

Why are the meals uneaten?

Does it represent a breakdown in communication between the cook (me) and the consumers (Nigel and Perran and Carenza)?

In fact, it is a symptom of a few weeks which have been busy and uncertain, but for the very best of reasons.

Perran and Carenza have both recently started work and they are in response mode. 

Some days they plan to come home, but work mates propose a drink, and it’s a good idea to join in. Purely for professional reasons, of course.

And then, there are old friends who have also ended up in the London area.  It’s great for them to be back together again.  Purely for social reasons, but no less important.

As a result of this, the fridge abounds in cling-filmed plates.

Plus, I have recently developed a highly sophisticated system which I use to regulate supply and demand –

at 5.30pm I WhatsApp – “Who will be home for dinner and who wants dinner keeping?”

And the twins hold up a finger in the wind and reply.

And if they get it wrong, another ratatouille joins the heap.

Starting Work

Carefree, earlier in the Summer

There’s a nip in the evening air and the nights are drawing in.  Term has started and I am madly preparing lessons.

But it’s only when I take a peep at FaceBook that I realise what I have forgotten to do. 

When the children started primary school I took a photo of them with forced smiles on their tiny worried faces. 

When they went along to big school, the same story – little faces peeping out from massive blazers.

However, over the last couple of weeks, both Perran and Carenza have started jobs in London and I didn’t take the pictures!  First day at work.

How could I have been so remiss?

This time round, they ironed their own shirts and bought their own blazers and they look somehow more grown up than me now. 

I’m not sure they would have let me line them up on the doorstep for a happy snap. 

But as they stepped out into the next stage of their lives, I could recognise once again that same old brave but slightly apprehensive smile.