pumpkinstrokemarrow

As it turned out, there was a lot of bird song but not a lot of visible bird life and no green finches. Total tweet was one magpie, two jays, two blue tits, one blackbird and one wood pigeon. On the other hand there was a fine display of dandelions at the bottom of Wheelers Lane and I got to find out about an interesting specimen on Hook Road. A tree which has been growing slowly in a front garden there for years, for some time on a bamboo cage and now on a more substantial wooden cage, and the owner of which I got to meet for the first time. The thing turns out to be a weeping blue atlas cedar, the non-weeping version of which is a large native of the Atlas Mountains, large in the sense that it will grow into a big tree. Quite rare in this country as it is too slow growing for your average gardener, although the owner of this weeping specimen thought that there was a good non-weeping specimen in Kew Gardens. Maybe I will remember to look when I am next there - although I am a little put off by their moves, along with Wisley, in the direction of a theme park or adventure playground. I like my gardens sedate and full of plants, not attractions.

On the way to Hook Road, passed under the East Street railway bridge where I was rather alarmed to see a large circular saw which appeared to be being used to slice up the brick abutments - with trains running over and road traffic - including me - running under the meanwhile. Hopefully they know what they are doing.

Which reminds me that it is time to report on the first of the various DIY ventures nearer home this spring: the replacement of our garage doors. These wooden doors were probably more than thirty years old and were starting to look a bit rough, not having been painted during our tenure and parts of them being rotten beyond painting when we arrived.

Now the doors are of what seems to be an unusual design, at least around here where I know of just one other like it. In three panels which fold up against the left hand frame when you want to put the car in the garage. Or much more likely, if you just want to use the garage as a passage to the back garden, or get to the freezer, the right hand panel can be opened and shut like an ordinary door. An arrangement which works well for us but which no-one much else has emulated. Which also requires special ironmongery, inscribed 'HILLALDAM'. In the days before internet I had kept an eye out for the things, one important part having gone missing and which would need to be replaced when the doors were replaced as I would not have wanted to carry the bodge forward onto new doors. Without success. Then along came the internet, one types the magic word into Google and he comes up with a gang called Hillaldam Coburn who make a range of ironmongery for doors which they call Foldaway, mainly for commercial use but which looks to be pretty much what my garage doors were installed with. The only catch is that as a private citizen I am not allowed to buy this sort of ironmongery myself, I have to go through a special intermediary called Travis Perkins. But this is not too big a problem.

The much bigger problem is who is going to make and install the doors? I have all the gear needed to make them, including sash cramps and excluding power tools, except a decent joiner's bench. But I could probably manage and it would probably take me two or three weeks to make, paint and hang the things. Energy and enthusiasm not there. And what about the wonky back on a dodgy bench? Asked two or three people round about but no joy. It seems that while you might call yourself carpenter and joiner on your van that does not mean you want to actually join anything. Rather buy it in, mark the price up and install it. The people in TB thought I was being lazy, perhaps normal for a public servant, but perhaps time that I got off my butt and did some real work for once. Still no enthusiasm. Doors still hanging there getting slowly more disreputable. How long would it be before they actually fell apart?

Then more or less by chance we found someone who would make the things. A chap who called himself carpenter and joiner and was willing to do some joining. Quite a decent job, not perfect but perfectly serviceable. Took him something less than a couple of weeks all in. All in, probably a better job than I would have done.