Ok, last post today, THEN I promise I shall do some work.

I was sitting on the toilet, minding my own business whilst I…did my business. I momentarily glanced to my right, as something had caught my eye. I did a double take when I realised that there was a very large, very mobile wasp idly taking a stroll along the top of my bathroom basin.

I don’t usually mind wasps - although many people view them as pests, they’re actually very welcome as a form of pest control themselves. So I don’t object to the odd one whizzing around me - I find that the less you flap, the less they bother you.

However - those that have been reading my blog for a while (come on, there must be someone?!) will remember that last summer, we had a wasp’s nest nearby, which resulted in me getting a very nasty sting.. I was up a ladder, idly snipping away at the rampant ivy, obviously ignorant of the furore I was causing in the heavens above. I only realised when one of the blighters very firmly planted a sting under my eye (cue lots of flapping, screaming, crying, pain etc). So since then I’ve been, let’s say, a little more cautious than usual around wasps. When we were doing the kitchen ceiling we saw the actual nest - a thing of absolute beauty. Just amazing - and to think, it was mostly constructed out of chewed up bits of Smallest Smallholding’s fencing.

I thought I was rather stealthy in sorting myself out, and removing myself to a safe distance. I don’t profess to know much about wasps, but I’m guessing that this rather large specimen is in fact the queen. She must have made her way up through the bathroom floorboards and emerged from the tiny gap by the bath. By the time we’d located the nest last year the pest control man had said it was late enough in the season that they’d be dying out anyway. I can safely say that 6 weeks after that, we still had wasps manically and drunkenly flying into windows and the house. Plus my sting attack. But I’m kind of glad because I just hate the idea of killing anything just because it’s not convenient (ok ok I know that a whole swarm of wasps is downright dangerous) for me.

I think my presence annoyed queenie a bit, especially when I put a big fat mug over her so I could run and grab the camera. Her abdomen started pulsating, almost wagging like a cat’s tail just before the cat swipes you. It was then that I decided it was probably best to send her on a short flight out of the window onto the roof. I imagine she’ll find a nook, cranny or suitable nesting site soon. I just hope it’s far away from me.

I am REALLY missing having a properly functioning, clean kitchen to make my food in. It’s surprising how much having a crap hole for a kitchen has put me off preparing proper meals with fresh ingredients. I love my cooking, and I can’t remember the last time I did some baking. We seem to be living with a constant thin coating of dust everywhere, and each room has either bits of car piled up in the corner, or a scattering of tools and implements cluttered about the place.

(Saying all this, Rich actually undertook a massive cleaning session, having FINALLLLLLYYY finished doing all the filling on the new kitchen ceiling. But then he announced that he still had some sanding to do. Which means more dust. I shouldn’t complain, living with a perfectionist of sorts (after all, he’s in relationship with me so he can’t be THAT much of a perfectionist) does have lots of bonuses - he may take close to forever to complete a task, but he always does a good job. )

For this reason, my house has slowly but surely declined into a pless than favourable place to spend the majority of my time. I hate it - I hate living like this. I get up in the morning and hover in the doorway of the kitchen or living room and cast my eye over the mess. Then I turn on my heel and think about all the things I can do outside or away from the house - unashamedly procrastinating and putting off the inevitable. Yes. I think it’s time I did a proper spring clean. I need to, otherwise I’m going to be swallowed up into a pit of despair, cat fluff and dust.

Working from home is great - generally I can get up when I want to, I can structure my day in a way that suits me. I can take breaks at will (and at leisure), and being flexible makes life so much easier in many ways. But despite being a complete and utter homebody, being at home for prolonged periods of time, *especially* when I’m living in (relative) squalor, is actually quite dispiriting. So it’s time I bit the bullet, pull my finger out, pull my socks up and got to it. Just going to watch some Neighbours and have lunch first. And maybe get some work done. Then I might go down to the allotment. Oh, and then I really want to do some seed sowing. Then I’ll do it.

After seemingly endless days of blazing sunshine and clear blue skies, it looks as though we’ve returned to the relative norm of grey, dull dull dull days. So thank goodness for these little gems of colour popping up in the borders, a neat little reminder of what’s on it’s way.

Actually my anticipation of the delights of spring and summer are mixed with a bit of trepidation and forboding - mostly because I don’t know how Yoko will cope with her EYP over a whole laying season. I know I seem to rattle on about EYP in almost every post, and to be honest I really don’t want to think about it. I just have to keep focusing on the fact that she managed last year, and I’ve read accounts of other people’s hens living (so far) for 2 years or more with it. So that gives me a glimmer of hope. Cynthia’s swelling doesn’t seem to be subsiding at all, despite the fact that her sour crop has all but disappeared. She’ll go to the vet either tonight or Monday, but I think in my heart of hearts, the fact that she hasn’t popped an egg out since before her moult can only mean one thing. *Big sigh*.

Apparently hens have a 5-10% chance of developing egg peritonitis - whether this accounts for sterile egg peritonitis I don’t know. I think battery hens have been bred so that these sorts of problems can be a bit more inherent and widespread - after all, as far as the industry (bastards) are concerned, the hens are useless after 12-18 months (peak production), so I guess what would (and does) happen to them after this time doesn’t really matter (I’ve also read that because pigs are slaughtered at a specific age for their meat, no one is actually sure how old they can live to). Hence why I think generally, compared to other illnesses, there seems to be a lack of understanding and treatment for sterile EYP. The only advice I’ve managed to get hold of is from other amateur henkeepers that don’t have their birds purely for production purposes. My vet always seems a bit surprised that Yoko seems to be tootling along ok.

I’ve been down on the allotment again today with Mum - I’ve let her have a portion of it as her north-facing garden is also overlooked by next door’s rampant willow and beech trees. So not all of last year’s crops were a success for her.

Down on the allotment it’s been like a voyage of discovery, unearthing treasures from the past. We had a scrabble around the ‘top’ end, where the half-dead rasberry canes are (debatable as to whether they’ll be a goer this year) and found some irises and tulips coming up. Mum found an old pot of something turned upside down and exclaimed with delight that they were a ‘find!’. She then proceeded to bag whatever they were up (some sort of bulb) and look very pleased with herself.

It’s been like my own mini version of the Lost Gardens of Heligan. Trying to piece together the story before I arrived, finding remnants and clues. Rather than being left for 80 or 90 years, it’s probably only been a matter of months, but in allotment terms, that’s long enough. Incidentally, I’ve been wanting to get hold of a DVD of the Lost Gardens of Heligan - I find the story spooky, fascinating and inspiring. It’s all very romantic, harking back to a time that always seems to possess a sort of grandness and classiness, the likes of that’ll never be experienced again. I have a couple of Heligan books, the Heligan Vegetable Bible and The Kitchen Gardens of Heligan - two interesting and recommended reads.

Anyhow I’ve declared today that I want my allotment to be the prettiest allotment on site. If we get a shed up it’ll be painted and looked after - functional AND stylish. Mum says a good border can make a lawn - I guess the same could (partly) apply to an allotment - keep the sides neat and trim and it’ll look a heck of a lot better. I want colour, variety and companion planting, so it looks full and buzzing. It’ll do everything it needs to do - growing veg, attracting handy pollinating insects, for cutting flowers - but look damned good at the same time. Sounds more like a potager when I think about it.