Poop And Slow Progress And Yule Is Done

1/1/22 Saturday
Last night just before midnight, Mr & I strolled down the dark lane, wine glasses in hand; spotted constellations, watched distant fireworks.
This morning Dog had done several splats of foulness on the living room carpet.
HNY!
Also this morning:
In bed, chinking coffee cups, we say- what will this year bring? We hope it’s a track and a toilet shed.
On the way to work, I stop for a walk at Carlyon Bay.
Far from frosts, a warmish wind blows, the sea is a stirred milky blue, the air damp.
At work, I eat chocolate and mince pies and a bag of spinach. 

2/1/22 Sunday
5am: Dog does dusty poop in the kitchen. Mr rises and mops.
7am: Dog arrives in our bedroom, she’s not sure why. I rise, briefly, relocating my snooze to the recliner chair while she settles on the sofa.
8am: coffee in bed, reading gardening books. 
Not looking at the clock: walk before work, around the lanes in the unseasonably warm grey fuzzy air. No snowdrops to be seen, only the plucky wild strawberries that flower as they feel. 

3/1/22 Monday
7am: Poop discovered but Dog did not trouble to wake us. She moved from her soiled blanket to lie on the floor, but she seemed in better cheer.
Already ignoring clock: coffee in bed, looking at rocket stoves and drainage solutions on Pinterest. 
Pre-walk work around the lanes, another slosh of mild dampish sky. Mr went shopping, there were no dried porcini mushrooms at Tesco. I walked from work to Asda, mushroom crisis averted. If we could keep all the 2022 drama this low key that would be appreciated. 

4/1/22 Tuesday
Dog’s accidental nocturnal poop run continues. Why do I feel this needs to be written down? I suppose I do like a bit of gross slapstick. We aren’t cross about it. It’s life.
Anyway, we go outside and take the doormat with us for cleaning.
Cold weather arrives. I fill the black bins in the polytunnel with water for winter thermal mass protection, and clear out mould patches. Nasturtiums are in leaf, no flowers; chard in the pot thriving, cabbages have turned into shrubs and trees. Strawberry plants overrun, along with ground elder, a bit of bittercress, a few tender nettles. Lime tree is blossoming, but the blossoms are prone to rot. 
Yesterday Mr cut the front hedge and the raspberry canes, today we piled the debris onto a tarpaulin (wheelbarrow is at Paddock Garden) to drag it up to the top hedge, adding to last year’s pile. One raised bed is cardboard covered, ready for spring sowing. Cleared foxglove shoots are stood in pots, ready to transfer to the land. We postponed going to the land in favour of a walk at Widemouth Bay- arriving in a slew of hail which gave way to sun spilling through moody clouds, and blue sky floating in the sand pools. Dog was ecstatic to be in and out of surf and pools and biting bits of seaweed and falling over rocks. Mr bought us lunch at the cafe. Dog sat under the table; we nicked some meat out of an abandoned sandwich to treat her with, chucked a chip with it so we could claim to have dined her on ham and chips.

5/1/22 Wednesday
Overnight Dog turds up the kitchen. After cleaning, there’s coffee in bed. No frost out despite the bite in the air. 
I begin to tidy away Xmas baubles which sidetracks into an ambitious house tidy. The stack of pictures that haven’t been put on walls for no particular reason for the last eight years now, albeit under some duress, are put up in the office. 
I cook a mostly vegetable stew, and keep Dog amused by hiding some cheese in a box. After winning the cheese game she retires to the sofa.

6/1/22 Thursday, Twelfth Night
On the 6th day, no poop. Day begins with prepping veg and cheese sauce for our evening meal, then riddling the fire, fetching coal, and back to bed for coffee and staring at the roman blind which has broken again. Mr measures up and orders a roller blind to replace it. It is exciting to think of living in a house with a new roller blind. I plan a new lampshade out of driftwood.
We load the van, run errands like collecting milk and dropping the chainsaw off to be fixed, arrive through the top gate of the land, plant up some foxgloves, put down some ash (to help fix and level the stone, and to encourage the growth of moss). The van gets stuck on the way down to the bottom gate, but we manage to dig and push it along, and it only happens once which is good considering how soggy the ground is today. Mr takes down the tree lights, I plant more foxgloves. We yearn for the day when there’s a track and no more stuck in the mud vehicle fuss. Patience is required. Meanwhile, we plant and plan, and get rained on. 

7/1/22 Friday
Woke late due to drinking. For a moment we thought Dog had not pooped but the folds in her blanket had hidden it. 
Coffee. 
Middle Daughter needed childcare while she did training at work, so we took her and Grandchildren 6 & 7 to Trethorne Leisure Farm, where she went to learn stuff about the farm and we went to the indoor play area for cheesy chips and mayhem. Might as well climb some pirate rigging and ping down slides when you are jaded. Middle Daughter returned and bought us hot drinks. Thunder and lightning struck overhead, followed by thick hail, very noticeable when you’re in a barn. 
Home for recovery naps.
I made a vat of chili and packed away yule trinkets.
Deferred most of today’s To-Do list and pledged a teetotal film night.