December daze

It's hard to believe that it is December already. I have been angelic and have my Gluten free Christmas cake made, substituting a bottle of Paddy Whiskey for Rum, and leaving out the almonds [which I hate]. This is my second year to make a C-Cake and I am very proud of the result, even better than last year's first effort which got a little 'over done' on top, but was edible nonetheless.

OH is in fine form today, he is taking down the hen shed and run. It is an Herculean task as he himself built it 25 years ago for Mum who had decided she wanted to go back into rearing hens. Many's the Silky Bantam first saw the light of day there, Rhode Islands, Marans, you name the hen and she more than likely had it; not forgetting Guinea Fowl, Woodcock, Pheasant and a Quail - he got the old rabbit hutch and lived a long and prosperous life and died of old age. What OH builds stays up. Permanently! He has his work cut out for him.

I hope to follow in Mum's footsteps regarding the fowl, but they will be housed down in the glen. Every summer the smell from the hen run wafted into the living room, and a then 5 year old ED told her, "Gran, I love eating in the garden but not with that pong!". The flower bed just below the run was fecundity personified with the run-off. We will be putting in a vegetable garden there, and we are going to keep two sides of the old run for growing peas against.

I had a lovely day yesterday; coffee at a pal's house in the morning, catching up on her recent trip to the USA for Thanksgiving. Her daughter has just had a baby girl, after two boys, and Granny is justifiably proud - particularly as the baby is named for her. I had intended to go out in the afternoon, but it was wet, cold and miserable and Bergerac called from the t.v., so on with a good log fire, in with a big mug of tea and sit down to watch until it was time to prepare dinner for OH and then to head out to visit a friend.

Life throws lovely treats our way when least expected, a call from Tiggywinkle was indeed a very lovely treat. Regretably this week I am not free, but we hope to meet up next week for a cuppa and a gossip, and perhaps a ramble around Avoca Handweavers. I have a few last minute knick knacks to get, again with the "angelic" bit...I have 95% of my Christmas pressies bought - my usual is the first week in December. I'm not a great last minute 'rush-out' shopper.

I know it's cold out, but I am quite sure that the air surrounding OH is blue for another reason, that recalcitrant nail is obviously the cause of it!

Last night upon my return home, I parked the car and as I looked up towards the house the sitting room curtains were open and I could see the shadows of the dancing flames of the fire welcoming me home; however, it was a moonlit night and I couldn't resist taking a ramble in the garden before going in. Just as I was about to open the back door I heard a soft swish and turned just in time to see the barn owl land on the blue cedar nearby. It is moments like these that make me feel how lucky I am to have eyes to see and ears to hear.

I am highly amused with the amount of letters coming in from builders who would like to build my new kitchen when I get things up and running. One company assured me that they "ar in busines for the psat thity years an are well know in there area for good work and stanrads". Now I am not extending sympathy for their spelling being due to dyslexia, ED is dyslexic so I know the story on that, this sort of thing in a letter and the grubby paper the letter was written on tells a huge story, and "there high stanards" are not impressive. If whoever signed the letter couldn't be bothered to check the spelling, what hope have I that their spirit level will be straight as well? Blame it on the Secretary? If he's that stupid enough to employ someone who cannot spell, well...I rest my case, oh! and what happened to F7 spell check?

Another company sent a lovely glossy brochure; this informed me that they extend graunts [yep, you read correctly] for tiling and kitchns [!] - picky I may be, but if you don't keep track of the little things, the big things haven't a hope, after all, for the want of a horseshoe nail....

Away with me now to revive a frozen looking OH with hot coffee and a bun, and to investigate how my fuschia cuttings are doing out on the hill.