pumpkinstrokemarrow

Turkey is now resting in peace, barring about half a pint of soup.

We made the soup stock by boiling the carcase for a couple of hours together with some mainly left over vegetables. Left to cool overnight, brought to the boil again in the morning and strained. Got about 5 litres of stock of a creamy colour which set to a very flabby jelly. Reheat; add some potatoes and when they were done some white cabbage and the soup was done. Very good. Good strong flavour so clearly plenty of e-numbers but all entirely organic and home made.

The remains of the meat was made into what we call turkey pie. Boil some carrots. Cook some onions in the brown jelly from the roasting. Make the onions and jelly up into a roux with corn flour and make up to volume with some of the soup. Add some coarsely cut button mushrooms. Stir the whole lot together into a pyrex tub. Top with mashed potato, make air vent in centre (too tall for the pie funnel) and bake for an hour. Serve with cabbage. Need to talk to the house shopper as we are down to our last two cabbages. Might need to get some from the allotment.

Today we move onto to fish to give stomachs a break from recent assaults.

Been reading an interesting Christmas present about Iraq by one Peter W Galbraith. What has stuck so far, is that whatever one might think about the wisdom of Western efforts over recent years, Saddam Hussein was a very evil man. Let us hope that the world will be a better place without him. But the manner of his going niggles me. Why did he not go out in slightly better style, as did two of his sons (although they may not have been given the choice). In so far as someone like him has honour, is it more honourable to face the music in the form of a show trial or to go down fighting? Macbeth went for the latter. But some senior Nazis were faulted for their suicides, so leaving their subordinates to take the rap alone. Maybe Saddam Hussein was hoping right up until the end that he would cut some shabby deal or that he would be rescued. For I long time after he was caught, I thought that he had done a deal but it seems I was wrong.

Yesterday an excellent visit to Painshill Park - a large landscape garden put together by an 18C plant nut who may have been related to the Hamiltons of Nelson fame. Fell into disrepair but someone has done a very good job of rescuing it. The senile trees which can figure so strongly in old gardens are not too conspicuous. Started off over the suspension bridge over the Mole - the sort of thing they might put up in Cambridge. But they need to clean the white paintwork which is turning very green. Then into the walled garden where I started to think that we might have arrived at an educational experience. There were large outdoor instructive posters everywhere - not my bag at all. Half expecting worksheets and audio guides when we bought tickets from the trusties - who take great pride in being independant and not being national trusties. They also have a very tasteful shed to work in containing very tasteful souvenirs. I think they got a prize for it. That aside, the educational experience did not come to pass and the epidemic of posters largely faded as we got into the park proper.

Two more features. First, it contains the largest cedar of Lebanon in Europe with a height of 120 feet and a girth of thirty. Very impressive. Second, their deer fence was put up with posts at around 20 feet centres - a good deal further than the six feet centres that I had been thinking of. This would get us down from 25 posts to maybe 6 or 7 - a far more manageable numbers. So maybe we are back into fencing at the allotment after all.

Resumed normal duties there today. Now nearly finished the first dig but there is still plenty of ground to be cleaned around fruit trees, bushes and the other perennials without the benefit of protective screes. Took down this year's runner bean sticks - a mixture of hazel thinnings from Horton Country Park, an ornamental plum tree and a hazel tree from our house garden. Need to think about what to do with the half which still have some life in them. Some of them had acquired plaques of an intesting spongy black fungus which I had not seem before. Others - I think the plum sticks - had the red spot fungus.

Have now picnicked twice on wild boar salami from Italy, courtesy of Mr Selfridge. Excellent stuff but I am not sure that I would have known that it was not regular pig - or donkey for that matter. We having bought some of this last from Savoy last year.

The baker had made some rather splendid New Year loaves today - round flat affairs with modest decoration. Very attractive. Assuming they were for sale, I should have had one. And given that he described himself as being open for orders only, he had a lot of cakes. Cheam seemed very quiet at 1100 so I hope he got some custom. Must find out why he makes Chelsea buns so rarely.

Noticed that Nonsuch School for Girls appears to have been taken over by David Lloyd and that the front entrance of the school has acquired the vulgar display which graces endeavours of his sort when they are trying to drum up business. Not like a school at all but I suppose they are still allowed to do that provided they don't get in the way of paying customers.

The lego tower did indeed make it to the ceiling, in good enough condition to place a shark on a little platform just under the ceiling. But, to be fair, the last couple of feet was more by way of an aeriel than a structure. And I had to use a stressing cable (in the way of Greek triremes) to keep the whole thing up. Sadly, it did not survive a visitor's inspection - the thought being that the stressing cable was a crane which could be played with, so photographic evidence is missing. Better luck next year!

The blogger people must do something clever with the recently published pictures - in the sense of cutting them down to bit size. Loading does not seem to be delayed at all. I continue to be impressed with the technology.

A second national design institute is falling. The new first class stamps - of which supply was needed to deal with those whose cards caught us out - appear to have acquired an ugly numeral one in the top left hand corner. A shame given that our regular stamps used to be quite decent looking. The first institution was the Landranger maps which started out really good and are now becoming progressively more gaudy. Perhaps they will start showing RSPB reserves in some lurid colour to complement that they use to show National Trust places. Perhaps someone will have a go at our banknotes.

Cambridge connection visit yesterday. Largeish meal in consequence, unusually running to four courses. Started off with exotica including strange fish lumps - mostly involving legs - in olive oil, snail pate - which appered to consist and taste mainly of pig - and some strange triangular fish lumps from Spain via a tin. Fish lumps cunningly wrapped in a tomato paste sheet about 1mm thick. How on earth did they do it? Followed by roast surloin, this being all the Cheam butcher could manage in the continuing chaotic run up to the New Year. Went down OK but not as good to my mind as other species of rib. Moist, very slightly pink with a slightly grainy texture. More like steak than roast. But the gear near the bone of which there was plenty very good. Another time I shall attempt to cook one of these hotter and faster so that we get brown outside and pinker inside - something we don't usually manage very well except with very large joints. Accompanied by mashed potatoes enlivened with bean pudding (vide supra), carrots, parsnips, brussel sprouts and cabbage. Followed by, exceptionally, three puddings one of which was christened something to do with Mars due to the interesting minced hazel nut patterns on the meringue. And one of which involved condensed milk cooked in such a way as to turn it brown (deliverately). The whole accompanied by rather posher wine than we are used to. And a giant grapefruit (aka pomona) to finish off with. Oddly, for such a large fruit, very small seeds. We will attempt to germinate - other citrus seeds germinate readily enough so perhaps these will.

Second post Christmas visit to Cheam today, getting somewhat wet on the way back. Butcher and baker now both open. Earl Grey tea famine averted by the Cheam High Street Budgen's which was surprisingly well stocked - complete with friendly check out lady who assured anybody who wanted to know that the quality of gossip far surpassed anything to be had in the Sainsbury down the road.

Talking of whom, I have not yet managed to attack their web site and complain about their mixed organic nuts - which seemed very dry and are strongly suspected of being more than a year old. But managed to get some rather more respectable walnuts from Epsom market - which appear to have arrived from California via the Netherlands. Roll on getting a decent crop from my various hazel nut trees, fresh hazels being a much more interesting proposition than the oven dried things one gets otherwise. Got a couple of handfulls this year, deer permitting, might get rather more next year.

Maybe we get to the allotment later if the rain stops. But bonfire delayed again.

We now have a proper picture, having cracked the problem of how to build a tall lego tower. The sprogs effort with A-frames was clearly not the way forward, whereas the neat cubical affairs built out of a castle lego foundation we have now come up with clearly are. Starting to run out of beams but with a bit of luck we might make it to the ceiling.

No idea how long it will take to load this picture. Tried all the save options and they all came out at 2Mb or much worse. Still something to learn about digital cameras.

After three Leffers this was thought to be the appropriate way to start with pix.

Christmas Eve is traditionally a lentil soup day. Knocked up around six litres of the stuff which six of us did for in a sitting. Bought five large loaves from Cheam that morning which have to last until Friday. Consumption has been negative exponential with 2.5 going on the first day and there being 0.5 left as I write. Should just about make it. A bit more thought though says that negative exponential while sounding good does not really meet the case. That is to say very big consumption on day 1, small on day 2, small on day three and starting to climb again today.

There was a late spurt in the size of Christmas houses at the baker, ending up with hollow affairs about 11 inches cubed. I learn afterwards that these are made out of gingerbread and have been featured on Blue Peter for many years. I didn't enquire how much they costed but they looked to involve a fair amount of work. £25? The Christmas tree chalet was solid and cost £15.

Branched out with a new event this year and sang happy birthday to Jesus before we started Christmas dinner.

Don't go a bundle on turkey as not favourite (although would not seem the same without it) food, so settled for a twenty pound job complete with interior oiling from Mr Sainsbury. Did very well on its giant cherry flavoured plate from the Hemingford side of the family. Two meals more or less did for it. A pie and soup to go with the now not so new stock pot on its first stockly outing.

Gravy good. Boiled up giblets with vegetables. Put cooked carrots and giblets less bones through the food mixer and put back in strained remainder. Stock then fairly thick, slightly gritty texture. I think the grittiness is down to the crop. The proceeded in a near normal way making the roux with corn flour. Most useful to tart up the mashed potato which we have with cold turkey on day 2. Who can make the biggest crater lake without getting wet turkey? I win, naturally.

Stuffing OK but not brilliant. Cooked outside the turkey and used dried thyme and marjoram having forgotten to check sage supplies and cooked in the rather deep loaf tin ordnarily used for seed cakes. Should have remembered the debugging rule which says do not make two changes at the same time.

Discovered that custard cream - one of the two accompaniments to Christmas pudding from the Canadian side of the family - is a cousin to brandy butter. Both starting with butter and suger, the former finishing with custard to give a soft sweet sauce, the latter with a small amount of brandy to give a hard sweet sauce, a bit crunchy. We are investigating whether the latter is improved by the addition of apperitif port.

Discovered that La Frogge tastes better out of small glasses than big ones. That is to say the first attempt after some modest amount of beer tasted rather odd. The second attempt when in slightly fresher condition went down rather better. Perhaps also because it provided an opportunity to show off the new glass cupboard which now contains three differant sizes of spirit glasses.

Third flight of last year's hot air balloon. The new launch stand and the hot air blower got the thing up fast enough but there was still the problem that however still the air seems, a balloon is going to drift. In this case coming down in the next door garden. Got it back OK but it has got some scorch holes from the air blower. Maybe the Thais in today's paper have got it right with a small light hanging under the canopy and you just let the thing go, rather than trying to tether and reuse.

Branched back on Boxing Day and resurrected the lego was a major occupation for around 10 years. The boys went for height with a sort of Technic Eiffel Tower while I went for a rather more sturdy tower built out of castle lego and standing on the pirate lego base. Have yet to reinstall the sharks in the dungeon.

First visit to the allotment for a few days and continued digging the broad bean patch for next year. Must get round to ordering the seed beans. Two deer present, one on the path to my allotment, one just across the fence in the school field. Chased the one on my side away, turned around a few minutes later and it had come back again. Or the one in the field had simply jumped the fence - which seems more likely although I would like to catch it doing it. But if the fence is jumpable, faffing about mending it is not going to do. So back to thinking about the rather major works needed to protect my fruit trees on a private basis. What a pain.

Maybe Friday will be bonfire day. It has been rather wet since I cut the willow down but maybe the wood has dried out for all that.

Cupboard now on wall after one or two last minute panics and with three out of four decent fixings. Maybe the hard plastic cylindrical fixings I use most of the time for masonry are not too clever for the very soft blocks that the inside wall of our extension is made of. Maybe also I should of remembered Giles' law yesterday. Which says something along the lines that it is no good skimping on preparation because the last coat of paint won't cover it up.

Surrey Education Department may have got peddosteria. One of the two local junior schools, a substantial affair with a large square playground, presumably built after the first war, is having a very expensive but tasteful looking extension built. As part of this they are errecting a five foot wooden fence about a foot inside the existing and substantial iron railings. One can only suppose the idea is to stop peddos peeking in - although the new fence is only slats and will not really stop peeking. Maybe they should have corner towers with cameras and dogs running around in-between the two fences to complete the effect.

More seriously, noticed a short peice in the Telegraph about an eight year old girl who is declining some presumably unpleasant treatment for a recurring cancer. Her parents agree. The health people appear to think they have to overrule them. Not a good situation but I do not think I would interfere with what I think is a private decision.

All of which reminds me that I should do something with the living will papers that I have got hold of. The idea being that when it is time to go, those around one let one go. The lady in TB who first told be about these things put it rather more trenchantly but the idea was the same.

On a lighter note, the same edition of the Telegraph also alleged that a Japanese shop which was more keen to celebrate Christmas than knowledgeable about the whole business decorated their shop last year with a crucified Father Christmas. Not such a bad guess if one only had limited knowledge.

Several pages were given over to the growing obsession with fat people. Maybe the people that did for hunting and have nearly done for smoking need another bunch to have a go at. Maybe if the Conservatives get back in they will ease off on all this nanny stuff.

Visited an establishment which used to be called the Plumbers Arms yesterday. It has now been tastefully refurbished and renamed the Wyvills - this being something of a local name. A school and maybe an estate. I thought I overheard the barman explaining that it was about to be refurbished again. I would like to see the accounts of all these suburban pub refurbishments - most of which strike me as being unecessary and which must cost a huge number of pints' profit to pay for. That is to say £200,000 for a paint job in which I have no interest must represent the profit on around 200,000 pints. Why don't they knock it off the price instead?

Lat but not least somebody near the Wyvils has an adult tricycle complete with derailleur gears and chained to a lampost outside their house. How many years to go before I feel the need for such a thing? Not anything like a convenient as its two wheeled cousin but could much more easily be adapted for carrying substantial loads to the allotment.

Cupboard now assembled barring fitting the outer glazing beads and dissassembled to more or less complete the painting. Surprised how long the finishing takes. One gets the this more or less built in three days and one is another three days faffing about with hinges and paint.

The thirtyseconds I was careless with earlier caught up with me. The three panels added up to around 1/8th of an inch too narrow. But I think I have lost this by mounting the hinges asymetrically - that is to say housed 9/16ths in the door frame and 5/8ths in the carcase. I don't suppose anyone will notice or wonder why.

More deep thoughts from the garage. First, it must be the first time for quite some years since I have had four out of my five sash cramps in use at the same time. But I do have the excuse that they are slightly differant sizes. Second, poking around in a deep mortise in winter afternoon light must be a bit like being a dentist. At least with mortises there is little risk of bad smells. Senior eyes need the morning light to see what I am doing - the bulbs in the garage not being all that hot. TE says that the answer is a strip light - and he may be right. Painting in the kitchen seemed a lot better than the garage - and a lot warmer. I had forgotten how cold craft work is outside - one is not moving around enough to keep warm. Third, did not follow the Wailing directive which says that if one is spending days painting something one cares about, one might as well invest £1.50 in a new brush. Perhaps I should have done. Fourth, the new-to-me Lion G-cramp from Crouch End is much sturdier than the ones I had already from Record. Massive thing for its 12 inch bite. And the message cast into the thing is light work only. One wonders what Lion people would offer for heavy work. Or what they mean by heavy work.

Finished watching the Chabrol version of M Bovary, courtesy of the Independant via Tooting. A well cast film which was very watcheable (quite up to the BBC standard of costume drama) - but one was left at the end thinking that a short story had been made out of what is a substantial book. A bit unsatisfied. But I least I get to blow the dust of the book and take a look at it again. I wonder what T S Eliot - with whom it must be vaguely contemporary - made of it. I must check her biography in case it says. And the film was nothing like as sweaty as a more recent version which we saw - probably on television. Not sure that the sweat added much but I dare say I will take another look if it comes around again.

Baker very festive this week and has given over his small cafe area to Christmas fare. Today was the turn of cake houses shaped like a cross between an alpine chalet and a Christmas tree and festive cup cakes with Father Christmases and other odds and ends on top. These last appeared to be destined for an office if not an office party.

After the pea soup been drinking lots of weak tea. Must be something to do with recent huge salt intake given our virtually added-salt free diet.

Talking of which, some (proper) paper alleged in the last day or so that lady seals in Scotland are having to travel further to find fresh water to drink because of global warming or something and so are travelling out of range of their owners and are so able to do business with free-range males. The question being which aquatic mammals need to drink fresh water? Whales can't and cold water seals are not going to get very far licking ice - and sea ice presumably contains salt anyway. Sea cows in California will have a bit of a problem getting at salt water. What about sea otters? Some Frenchie tried rowing across the Altantic on salt water years ago and claimed it was OK so long as one never allowed oneself to get dehydrated. Wet kidneys could cope with little and often. But the row all went pear shaped for some other reason and I remain to be convinced that salt water is very good for this sort of mammal, even French ones.

Half way through a 1930 history of the 1921 treaty with Ireland by Lord Longford. A good complement to Tom Jones' diary which I borrowed from the Treasury at some point - a pity they have probably sold it off as part of downsizing so now not available for a reread. It is some consolation that one of the factors which made our rulers see sense was English public opinion. People in the street were not prepared to pay what it had become clear that nonsense was going to cost. Not so clever that we promptly fell down the same hole with India.

Now done two front frames out of three for the new cupboard. Not too bad a job but I had forgotten that one cuts the cheeks of tenons first and the shoulders second. It does work better that way around. And maybe I will get into cutting bevels for the shoulder cuts next time. If one cares about the odd thirtysecond - which one would for a polish job - it does make a differance.

More than once senior moment today. The first being a luckily abortive attempt to put a used tea bag in the refrigerator rather than in the compost bucket which lives in the adjacent cupboard. I will keep the second to myself.

Moved into salt beef on Saturday - six pounds of brisket on the bone - and the third outing for the new stew pot. After some poking around - rather to my surprise the Boston cook book did not do salt beef - we landed up with Delia's tome. Boil meat for an hour or so, then add vegetables: turnip, celery, carrot and (whole) onion. Omit herbs. Boil - or rather simmer - for another hour or so. Remove beef to oven and drop in dumplings. Simmer for twenty minutes and drain. Serve the whole lot with cabbage and boiled potatoes.

Turned out good - not too salty. Not so salty in fact that the salt pinkness had not penetrated to the centre where we had a stripe of brown. Nearly as good as the terrific salt beef one used to get in a fashionable East end flavoured cafe in Windmill Street. Along with potato pancakes (before the Hoilday Inn had heard of them) and chicken soup. Not to mention what appeared to be cold fried white fish and chopped liver. Sadly, long since replaced by an adult book shop. And the salt beef one gets elsewhere seems to be pressed silverside which I dont like. Salt beef should be loose.

Liquor destined for pea soup. Salt beef sarnies for lunch to day - which happens to be a better than average bread day.

Starting to paint the cupboard carcase. Some discussion about whether white or cream was more suitable then off to Wickes - which I had forgotten is an entirely own brand place. In the paint department I have a soft spot for Dulux but I don't suppose it matters all that much inside. Then one had the complication that cream came in silk finish, non drip, one coat, rich cream, cool cream or Devon cream variants. It is a fair bet that I have gone for the wrong one but for once have retained the receipt!

Continue with DHL. An acute observer of the myriad transient strains, tensions, alienations, conflicts and attractions in the relations between two people. But I am very dubious whether this sort of attention to detail is a good idea in one's own relationships. Do a lot more harm than good. Better to smooth over the whole lot of it with a good cigar.

Yesterday to Wigmore Hall for a Schubert trout (having recently learned that Hardy's wife dies of the same complaint as Schubert) and a Beethoven septet. The programme tells us the Beethoven's dad was an alcoholic which I didn't know before. I had also forgotten that the trout involved a double bass which I can not have heard in chambers for a very long time. Neither a bassoon nor a French horn. Good cheerful programme for a damp winter's evening.

Work on new cupboard continues. Phase 1 - that is the carcase - now complete. Three front panels just starting. I had forgotten how panic stricken glueing up always seems to be - despite having a dry run. Always seem to be tearing around in the gloom with glue getting everywhere. However the result was fine. Wouldn't do for a polish job but quite good enough for painting.

Found that Messengers - the superior tool shop in Guildford - has turned into Buck and Ryan, which enabled us to solve the Buck and Ryan nystery - that is to say the disappearance of their large shop at the top of Tottenham Court Road. It has, we are told, moved to Southampton Row. Much go and see how much smaller it has got in the process of moving. But a bit of a mystery how such a shop survives in central London anyway. There must an awful lot of suits into fancy DIY.

Then reminded how expensive the fittings are for cupboards. One thinks one is getting it for free with second hand timber and ones own time. But then the fittings cost about as much as a whole cupboard from MFI. But at least I have the satisfaction of designing my own to do a particular job and mine will last for ever. Given the way fashions swing about some people might not regard this as a good thing!

Wednesday was a kidney day. Take a pound or so of ox kidney (why do we call it ox kidney - it presumably comes from a cow along with the beef) fry in butter. Add black pepper and carraway seeds. Add chopped onion. Cook for a bit. Add chopped tomatoes. Cook for an hour or so. Add a few button mushrooms and away you go. In this case with bread and cabbage but white rice would have been better.

The carraway seed tip came in a back to front way from the Good Soldier Svejk where it is alleged that kidneys with carraway seeds is what you get in cheap eating houses as opposed to the kidneys in question which were done in some other way.

The Tooting sofa saga came to a happy ending with it turning out that the salesman's claim that the thing would get in was vindicated. Middle door off and the thing was a doddle with half an inch to spare. But an inch the other way and we would have been into taking all the door stops off and putting then all back again which would have been a rather time consuming business. Not to mention the making good afterwards. Several inches the other way and it would have been out with the front double glazing panel - for which we had neither knowledge nor a suitable screwdriver - Phillips screws cunningly coming in a variety of configurations so amateurs who only carry one or two screwdrivers around with them generally find they have carried the wrong ones. Carefull measurement of holes rules.

Boiled beef did well cold - both with veg and in sandwiches. Half way to corned beef. Maybe we should try making that - I am sure that there is a recipe in the Boston cook book. Maybe also how pubs do home made Sunday roasts. Boiling up a big lump of beef the day before and slicing cold would be a cheaper and simpler option than the real thing. Bit of hot gravy and who would know the differance? Beef broth nearly done - having got through about half a gallon of the stuff. Needed geeing up with fresh cabbage to cut the fat a bit the second time around.

Continue with Trespasser. As it happens the bit I am on now is set in Freshwater in the Isle of Wight where we summer holidayed so can spend the next few days checking the topography. Is the Freshwater presented the real thing or a patchwork?

Ritter on Iraq finished. Apart from the process being terrible, struck by the observation that one still does business with people that lie. And I started thinking about the volume of lying in daily life. Which left onto all sorts of grauniadical musings about differant sorts of lying and I am sure several PhDs are lying in wait here. Classification is the name of the game. Is one lying on purpose? Is one lying with intent to secure an advantage? For oneself or an other. This last bneing sometimes known as a white lie. Or a disadvantage. What about if one thinks one is lying but it turns out that one didn't. Does lying by omission count - aka being economical with the truth? Does a lie have to be refutable to be a lie? This would let off all kinds of varnishing of the truth which might have very evil intent but not be refutable. Perhaps also something to get to sleep on.

Very wet run to the baker yesterday. Needed cape both ways. It seems to have shrunk so the new bike must be a slightly differant shape from the last. Strange and unpleasant smell led to examination of inside of said cape which was covered in black splodges. It seems that they are mildew - the result of long storage in plastic bag without use in damp environs - so better half let rip with various cleaning agents. Threatening more! Cape still in one peice so far.

Started work on the cupboard to house the 69 recently acquired glasses from Singapore. Cunningly avoiding the need to cut dovetails. Stick with stopped housings and M&T. Another chunk of the Crouch End shelving finds a good home. Not done glazed doors before so will need to think about how to do that without getting into tricky stopped rebates at which I doubt whether I will be any good. Will we be finished for Christmas?

New stew pot had its second outing today with a 5 pound lump of chuck steak. Lump being the word so it needed a bit of tying it to make it look a bit more decorous. Then followed the radiation line in braising. Brown in dripping, remove. Brown onions, remove. Add some flour and work up a brown sauce. In this case, there wasn't a lot of dripping left after the onions so did not get a proper roux and had to add additional flour half way through the process. Add turnip, cabbage and carrot. Return beef and onions, simmer for two hours. Remove beef, liquidise what is left. Serve with carrots, cabbage and rice.

All very good: not a particularly cheap meal but differant. Only proviso being that another time I would ask the butcher to cut the lump so that one wound up carving across the grain rather than with it.

Further inspections through the newly renovated inspection cover. Spent happy hour with head down a drain. But removed half a bucket of debris from the sump (including the plug which should be over the rodding channel) and established that the pipework is sound. Not completely clear yet but enough for one day. Hopefully we will not be reduced to the dyno-rod people. And the new cover survived two cars running over it at 8 days.

Completed making the home compost bin - a u shaped brick affair about 5 foot square and 18 inches deep - fox proof. This way we can put meat, fish and fat waste in the thing without having the foxes chucking the stuff all over the garden. Final lap with four peices of melamine. Probably won't last terribly long but it is as good a way as any to get rid of the stuff. Several square metres of it having been sitting in the garage for ages.

Rather to my surprise, taken up DHL again. More readable than I would have thought. Finished the Lost Girl having been prompted by going to Gypsy, now into the Trespasser, found in a charity shop. A bit pompous but we will get there. Also Ritter and Pitt on Iraq. What a mess.

Wandering around Warren Street found a quality skip outside of French's theatre book shop - never previously heard of. Skip was full of scores for elderly musicals - presumably the sort of thing one has to hire if one wants to put a musical on. But by the look of them, skipping was the best thing to do.

This was followed by a trip into the past - in the form of the Isaac Deutscher memorial lecture by Kevin Murphy. Much agonising about writing the history of the Russian revolution. But like other lectures I have been to, the speaker was much more interested in who said what about what to whom than about the subject in hand - about which one learned very little. Various trots appeared to be in attendance.

Soduku performance continues to be wobbly with far to many mistakes and unsolved puzzles. Sometimes with the excuse of having taken on freight before hand. Thought I found a puzzle with more than one solution - it being easy enough to generate one solution (in the sense of a grid of numbers obeying the rules but not the clues) from another - but this also turned out to be a mistake. But I continue to wonder how the puzzle setters avoid multiple solutions.

The willow saga takes a new twist. The council have been along and done something to the neat stumps which I left. I don't think they dug the roots out because there are no digger tracks and I can't see them doing such a job by hand. Perhaps they have just razed the stumps to the ground using one of those chain saw flavoured grinders. In which case it seems quite likely that the thing will sprout up all over the place next year. We shall see.

Excavated about a quarter of the home compost heap which was getting a bit full. Transferred to allotment where it is now covering the number 2 rhubarb bed.

Smashed up the rubbish from drain operations and used it to extend the ground cover around the clematis and hop plants.

Dug out the two failing gooseberry plants. Clearly not a variety which suits my ground. One of the others had layered so broke it off and planted it. All a bit crude but it will probably grow - if you can stick a stick in and it goes, a stick with roots should have no trouble.

PS the lady who has taken over two down has just rescued about a dozen gooseberries and a dozen blackcurrants from brambles. All substantial plants so if they recover she will have an awful lot of jam to make. Lets hope she has plenty of friends and relations to pass it onto.

Off for a bit of culture in town - the Seafarer. Keywords: kitchen sink, drink, drunks and Dublin. But good. Followed by the singing of Happy Birthday to a mortuary assistant in the Duke of Sussex. To the taste of London Pride.

On the train I was pleased not to be a regular any more. Oddly there were no irritating announcements about how I could change at Clapham Junction to go to Wembley or Cirencester. Or that if I suspected it I should report it. Coincidentally, I had read something in the paper about how irritating someone else found all this tannoy claptrap. So I am not alone. Maybe SouthWest Trains will do something about it.

Have now Christened (c or C?) the new stew pan with lentil soup. Pound of orange lentils, four large carrots. Simmer for an hour or so. Add onions and bacon (preferably from a pig rather than Sainsbury) fried in butter and black pepper and away you go. The deeper pan had the advantage that it didn't boil over - something lentils are prone to, in the same way as milk - and when they were boiling up something in the lid made a just audible whistling noise so one could do something about it.

Second bucket of concrete since retiring. Discovered that the garage was leaking and that maybe the cause was water running off the back garden into a channel along the back of it, where it puddled. Have now filled the channel with concrete, a bit awkwardly given that a shed ran next to the channel. Lucky with the rain which started then stopped. We will see how we do in the morning.

When we will also run the car over the fine new drain cover for the first time. Supposed to reach 60% of final strength in the 7 days that it has had. Also found out - rather late in the day - that the new drain cover is not the same size as the old. They have taken the opportunity to fiddle with the dimensions a bit - although not in the interests of making it roundly metric - not that it was roundly imperial before. Maybe a wheeze to keep man hole restorers in work.

Just spent a few days in Devon, primarily to attend a meeting of the Exeter branch of the Dew clan, more particularly Stephen's 18th birthday party. An excellent occasion, if in bed some hours later than usual. Made up for it the next morning.

Stopped at Honiton on the way. Two successful food purchases, vis 8 Spanish navel oranges at 4 for a pound, Very soft texture, neither too sweet nor too sharp. Plus three Spanish cod cutlets at rather more for a pound - something we have not eaten for years. Might have done better with slightly thinner cutlets from a slightly fatter fish but no matter. Not bad at all, fried for about 6 minutes on each side in butter, lid on for about half the time. Not sure about ecoaspects though. Not at all sure that Spanish fishermen are very bothered about all that sort of thing at all. More into the biggest and best marine vacuum cleaners. Maybe I should stick to Waitrose with its line caught sustainable fishery fish from Iceland - despite the fact that the way they light their fish counter makes the fish look most odd. Although one has to admit that it is a lot easier to manage a fish stock belonging to a small island miles from anywhere. No need to share with anybody.

A successful book purchase. Found a bookshop carrying around twenty Arden Shakespeares, mostly brand new latest editions. Never come across such a thing before - indeed havn't come across any Ardens at all for some time. Presumably remaindered from some wholesaler. So I get to plug three gaps, including two plays we are likely to see over the next month or so - As You Like It and The Tempest.

And a successful if short visit to the vicinity of Dartmoor prison. Very scenic - if cold at this time of year - and not a place to be wandering around on in the dark with only sketchy prison clothes and leg irons on. Plus a look at the prison heritage centre.

Continue to be amused by the well established custom for visitor attractions to sell tasteful souvenirs and tasteful food (which mostly seems to come from the same warehouse in China). So Buckfast Abbey has a large old building devoted to monastic produce - mostly either honey or alcoholic. Well that's OK. Monasteries have a tradition of doing that. But the upper classes moving into trade is a bit newer - and a bit odder considering their attitude to trade until very recently. So we were interested to see that the Countess of Devon has opened a grocery - going one further than Prince C in that she is into retail whereas he only does wholesale. We bought some steak and kidney - which worked OK with some lentils rather than flour as thickening - and a breast of English lamb. Roasted whole for an hour or so and just been consumed - with enough left for breakfast sarnies. Plus cabbage.

On the down side a bit depressing that our leaders see fit to commit us to another £60bn or something on nuclear nonsense. One might have hoped that fifty years after Suez this rather small country would grow up a bit and settle down to being a small power - and set a good example to some others. Almost tempted to get down my CND boots from their hook - where they have been for the last 40 years.

And that RSPB seem to have taken over large chunks of Dawlish warren. Dogs forbidden - except in some places where they are allowed provided they are on a lead not more than 1.83 metres in length. Small horses are OK, something to do with restoring sustainable and heritage grazing practises (s or c?) - although in Surrey one gets the impression that horses are pretty rough on the ground - especially on sandy, marginal land like that on the warren. And one of their trusties has clearly got hold of a printer and a laminator and the place is covered with laminated signs explaining what you can't do - they have probably set up Word so that any sentence not containing one of the phrases 'do not' or 'it is forbidden to' gets rejected by the grammer checker. I also think they must be in correspondance with the Epsom common trusties. But despite all the Warren itself remains an excellent place to go. And only a pound a pop at this time of year.

Last but not least several more places on the A303 have been infested with either road signs or speed cameras. The former sometimes having the effect that one has no idea how to get to Honiton or what the speed limit is - but perhaps that is the idea.

Moved into the first bit of brick laying for many years. Had thought to bodge the main man hole in the drive up but on closer inspection the cover surround was in four peices and the top course of bricks had more or less rotted away. So down to Travis and Perkin for twenty bricks, a bag of ready mix and a new drain cover. Special builder's accents for the occasion. The new cover had to be galvanised and plastic rather than cast. So it won't match and maybe it will be more flexible which will do the rather fragile bedding no good. The bedding being fragile because it is rather proud of the sinking drive and does not get the support from its environment that it needs. And maybe I would have done a better job had I not done it in one go. Give one thing time to harden up before moving onto the next. We will see how it copes with the car in a week or so. Maybe we really will have to get a new drive.

On the meat front we have been into South Down cutlets (organic plus) and a new brand of white pudding. This last had good texture but a strong flavour which reminded me of a household product. A cleaner or air freshener or something. But maybe it was just a herbal E number.

And I have bought my Christmas present. A nine litre stock pot for festive occasions. The six litre saucepan I have been using hitherto never seems quite big enough - hard to stir and apt to stick when full. We will see if stews and stocks follow Parkinson's law.