The plants, the car, the horror and the job.

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So we’re well into the time of year when we should have little tomato shoots sprouting and growing up towards the sky. Only we’ve not. We’ve got packets all out and sorted ready – and once I’ve warmed up again I’ll start working on planting, but as usual we did the dumb-ass thing we normally do. We left the propagator bases outside. And some of them seem to have gone missing. I’m not sure where they are, which is somewhat upsetting. We appear to have most of them though…

I’ve just been trailing round the garden, which was quite fun when the sun was out (despite the layer of ice on the water out there – can I point out that it’s march, and I don’t really expect to see a layer of ice on water). But it became distinctly less fun when the sun went in and the clouds rolled over (as they are wont to do at the moment).

Having located them, then comes the job of getting them clean enough to be in the house. This is one of the things you’d think we’d learn. After a few years of our version of gardening (largely plant many things, see what survives) you’d think that we’d have worked out that leaving the propagators outside leads to them getting covered in dirt, and the little clear plastic covers getting broken. We did better this year, just the bases were outside, and one cover (that I think we couldn’t find last year) was lurking under a pile of scrap wood. Yes, our garden is a disaster area, thank you for asking.

Also, on the plus side, I found our missing trowel. It went missing at some point during planting last year, which was obviously upsetting, and it appears to have been covered by ‘a lot’ of dirt. However, the miserable rain we’ve had washed off enough that I went ‘hang on a minute, that looks like a trowel’ today, and lo, there it was.

So yay.

Unfortunately, being out there for even the half hour or so that I was has demonstrated that my cough is not better, however much I might hope. I have come back in to sit in the relative warmth of the house, and having settled back in my cough has settled back down, but it was tedious for a little while. My nose, also, seems to have decided to spend today running. I’m not sure where it’s trying to get, but it seems to want to get there fast. Feh.

Anyhow, today we shall try for planting tomatoes, and anything else which proclaims “Plant in march”. Although a lot of things say “Plant in late march, after the threat of frost has passed” which, given that it’s April in a couple of days, and that there’s still a good layer of ice on the bucket of water outside (no, there’s no good reason for us having a large bucket of water outside), I’d say that threat’s not quite passed yet.

I’ve also made a list/shopping basket on our favoured mud suppliers, this is because we need more mud. Lots more mud. Mud and gravel. And they have 10% off this weekend, so when my beloved arrives home I’m inclined to consider ordering a big pile of mud and gravel. I suspect, actually, we need much more than is in my ‘shopping basket’ at the moment, but as the order already comes to 300 quid, I think I best stop there.

So that is task one for the day. I also used the ‘searching for the garden stuff in the garage’ opportunity to hook Rebecca back up to the slow-charger, so that when the ‘new’ differential arrives (winging its way from Berkshire, it is) I can install it, and she will be able to move. Of course, this means that I also need to place the scary big order from Bull Motif – because frankly I’m fed up of my arse nearly touching the floor from the failed seat-straps. Also, I’m fed up of water dripping on me from the roof, I’d rather it ran down the inside of the roof-lining and disappeared down the water runs. I’d no idea there was so much condensation on the inside of the roof. Also, one of the sound-deadening panels has dripped something manky down the door (glue, I imagine) which needs cleaning. Oh, and I’d quite like the radio to work, rather than just being ornamental, which means fitting the kick panels where the speakers are meant to live. On top of this list of minor (ha) list of parts, she also needs new seals and I think I should fit new bearings to the axle, given that the old ones were subject to the fine-fine grit of a disintegrated differential.

I’m hoping that someone’ll buy the old diff on E-bay for ‘money’, although I imagine not.

So, the other job I’m working towards tackling whilst I’m laid low with this cough (I don’t really want to be sanding stuff and faffing about on ladders when I’m hacking up a lung) is The Horror. This is The Horror:

The Horror

See, when I moved out of my parents house I boxed up a lot of stuff. And when my dad died, I boxed up some of his stuff. And when I moved to Slough, I boxed up a bunch of stuff. And when Kathryn moved in, we left some of her stuff boxed up.

A couple of those boxes are CD and DVD boxes. They’re easy: Strip artwork out, plastic for freecycle or recycle, artwork into a much smaller box (when we settle finally, I’d like a music library with all the albums out and nicely shelved). DVD’s I’m not so sure I’ll want out – because with film I’m not so bothered about the medium. Purely digital media doesn’t bother me at all for film – although I would like a more reliable method of backing it up (really that’s just a case of sucking it up and paying for a decent RAID array). Some of the boxes are books. Many, many photos. It’s just a case with them of sucking it up, sorting through them – keeping a few that might want to be album’d, chucking most and storing the negatives. Some of the boxes are assorted ornaments and desk stuff – which are largely going to be an awful nightmare to sort. I’m trying to build up the willpower to get a box down and start. The idea is, if I can do one or two boxes a day, then I should be through the pile in not very long and meet our requirement that nothing goes up in the attic except, possibly, my dad’s prototype computer hardware which I want to display but have yet to obtain the means to do so. I suppose one of those 1930’s glass / bow fronted cabinets would be the best bet :)

No where to put one in this house though! I quite like the idea of that, in my final office space though. A little miniature museum of old tech. Hrm.

Then there’s the job. See, I applied for a Senior Staff Nurse position, and I came second. This in itself is not unusual. I’ve come second a lot in job interviews. I came second in a position with the BBC (they said “if the person turns it down or their references don’t work out, we’d like to contact you”… they never did though). I have come second in lots of SSN positions – which has meant that I’ve been offered senior positions later, without interview. This time, I’m actually in a position to take the rather nice and suddenly offered second place prize – which is 2 months of the job that I applied for. For the person who’s got the job can’t start for 2 and a half months, so the plan is that in half-a-month I’ll do the job for 2 months. Which is both scary and exciting, and mentally leaves me thinking “Oh god it’ll be a disaster”. Which just goes to show I should have more faith in myself, because I did the role when I was working in Reading.

Incidentally, the reason I came second? I didn’t ‘sell myself’. This does not come as a huge surprise.

Uh, so, that’s my ramble for the day.


Kate is lord and mistress of all she surveys at