Ravendale House

Peter and I have been married for almost 40 years, and for 39 of those have managed to negotiate doors with little or no problem. In the last 6 months this has changed.

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We started this year with a hosepipe ban, and finished it by breaking records for rainfall. The wettest year in England since records began in 1910, and the second wettest in the UK as a whole. You couldn’t make it up.

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I’m not a Xmas person anymore. Having no children and my only family living 400 miles away (Peter doesn’t bother with his family at all) Xmas is just a nuisance.

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So there I was yesterday morning in the little market town of Brigg, posting my Xmas cards to Canada. As I was walking back to my car I followed a young man with a dog. I don’t know what breed it was, a sort of chunky poodle, with a white curly coat, definitely not a man’s dog.

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Well, it’s now exactly 6 weeks since the conservatory was pulled down and what a 6 weeks it has been.

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You might be wondering why news of the new patio has dried up over recent days, after all it was all going so well, too well in fact.

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Remember the story of the lost ring?

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A few days ago, between showers(!) I decided to collect some seeds from one of my favourite Aquilegias, ‘McKana’. They were tiny, ripe, jet black and very shiny. I was amused to see one being carried off by an ant, and childhood memories of cartoon ants raiding picnics came flooding back.

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