DAY 14

The weather is relentlessly glorious and today we are helping a friend celebrate her 50th birthday, only she doesn’t know we’re coming. She had organised a lovely summer festival type party, with the option to stay over camping. Clearly not something I will be taking her up on, unless the offer comes with my very own Ray Mears to build me a shelter, start a campfire, make me a cup of tea and a rabbit stew (you can keep Bear Grylls with his drinking your own urine and eating bugs). There’s also the small issue of no hot running water – you can begin to understand why we have only been camping once as a family. Catering decided after one night under canvas with me, it was probably best to avoided. Anyway, the lovely Jo has had to postpone her party (same time next year) and so another friend organised for a good number of us to appear in her road at 4.30pm to sing her Happy Birthday and have a socially distanced drink.

I rode my bike (still no puncture) to Mel’s where I left it and she, Hels and I walked down to the rendezvous. The crowd slowly built and we filed down the alleyway to her cul-de-sac and stood quietly while someone rang her doorbell. Jo was genuinely speechless when she saw us, all armed with pompoms, birthday balloons and banners. She was a bit tearful, largely a result of the surprise, but it also might of had something to do with the champagne she had been drinking since breakfast. We all stood with our drinks of choice and chatted frantically, as if trying to make up for the past 10 weeks. My drink (actually 2) was a passion fruit martini mixed with Prosecco, supplied by Mel, which was delicious and made the bike ride home a breeze. It felt positively naughty being gathered together with a group I was not related to by blood and it was really hard to drag myself away, but 2 drinks was plenty and 3 could have lead to disaster on the way home. In typical fashion I forgot to take any photos and resolved to try harder to record these events.

We finished the day off with a roast chicken and then Diane and Poppy joined us for an end of weekend drink, a civilised end to a lovely weekend. I am glad we have the space and location to enjoy the outdoors without having to join the masses of people heading to the coast – the scenes of the beach at Durdle Door are extraordinary. I am happy to make do with the back garden and the odd dash through the sprinkler, though no doubt a hose pipe ban will soon be imposed.

DAY 15

I decided to walk along the river to Henley and pick up some shopping, as I haven’t been for a river walk for a week or so. Blue sky and sunshine meant the riverbank was quite busy, but nothing compared to the day before, when apparently it was mobbed with groups of 6 (or so) deciding to make the most of the sunshine and meet ahead of Monday’s change in regulations. On my way across the weir I spotted our resident swan with her 3 cygnets which are getting quite big now.

As I was standing in the checkout queue I got a phone call from Robert, who was very excited to announce that the partridge that kept disappearing into the hedge by the courtyard wall, had just emerged with 10 chicks. We had wondered whether she was nesting and she clearly was – she mooched around the courtyard with them for a couple of hours, before taking them off to a more sheltered place for the night. They were so tiny and fabulously camouflaged, they blended beautifully with the gravel.

The courtyard has seen a great range of baby birds this year, not just the ducklings and partridge but also fledgling sparrows, woodpeckers and all manner of tit. I am hoping the sparrowhawk stays away, so that they all keep safe.

I was supposed tick off another furlough task today, but somehow time marched on and the painting task will have to wait until tomorrow.

DAY 16

Robert fell firmly into my bad books this morning. I happened to respond out loud to a question posed by a radio presenter who asked how were we all coping with the lockdown and I replied “Not too badly, just a little stiff around the edges from all the exercise” Robert in his infinite wisdom decided to laugh and said “It’s not as if you’re doing that much!” Well! While I appreciate I am no Victoria Pendleton, I am giving it a go and trying wherever possible not to use the car for local trips, but to walk or cycle instead. His scornful retort was not well received and I left the house for my cycle to Marlow Common and my second dog walk with Anne and Milo, in a mood that can best be described as poisonous. Fortunately there’s nothing like cycling uphill for half a mile to diffuse your temper, so by the time I met Anne my mood had calmed to general moan level about Catering’s lack of E.I. and Anne, bless her, let me download and lent a sympathetic ear.

On my return, Catering seemed to have realised he may have been misguided in his response, and made me coffee and apologised for laughing at my efforts. So we moved on. The painting task needed to be done before the weather changes, so I changed into my ancient decorating gear and set about sanding down the table that the Big Green Egg sits in, ready for painting. It took a while and was a bit fiddly, but I was very pleased with the results. There was one sticky incident, where I wriggled underneath the frame, like a mechanic under a car, to paint the underside, only to discover that it’s harder to wriggle back out again. I had visions of having to shout for one of the men in the household to come and drag me out by my feet, but faced with that humiliation, I wriggled harder and eventually made it out again – a bit sweaty and red-faced.

Painting is thirsty work and so I embarked on a summer rosé tasting exercise, prompted by Robert’s purchase of three assorted cases of rosé wine. He read an article in the paper at the weekend and bought all the ones recommended, so that we can try them – I am not going to argue with that logic. 1st up was a NZ Sauvignon Blush – very nice it was too.