Somebody tiresomely rural has been spraying tank-loads of liquid cow poo all over the fields at the farm.
I think this is a disgusting thing to do and must make the grass taste vile anyway. Cows do not like to eat grass with their own poo on it.
The dogs think it is the nicest thing that has happened for weeks, and have been up there rolling about in it with a joy roughly similar to the one I experience when I visit Penhaligon’s and try on all the testers.
In consequence they both stink dreadfully.
The irritating thing is that until it has all either soaked in or washed off, or whatever cow poo does when you leave it lying about in fields, there is no point in bathing the dogs, because they make a bee line for it as soon as they get to the farm every morning. We would have to bath them every night until it is gone, and it is too cold to hose them down in the garden, even for somebody as rurally heartless as Mark.
In consequence we have got revoltingly smelly dogs. They got on the bed this morning, because I was not concentrating, and I had to wash the sheets. They are now barred from almost all of the house, and Mark is going to have to borrow the super-hoover from his sister again, although probably not until she has finished cleaning up after her own dogs.
We started the day with a financial crisis, because in consequence of it being not the tourist season any more we have completely run out of money.
It is very quiet indeed at work now, I have been on the taxi rank for three hours now and nobody has wanted a taxi yet. I don’t mind this because of having plenty to occupy myself, a good book from the library and writing to you, for a start, but not having any money is always a bit rubbish. The theory is that we save up all summer and then when the winter comes we have got some cash to see us through the hard times, and usually we do, except this year.
This year we did not save any money at all. I don’t think that I have especially been more of a reckless spendthrift than usual, but of course we have spent a very great deal associated with the poor broken camper, and so when we had put the money into the bank this morning we discovered that we did not have any left for useful things like cheese and good dog sausages.
Fortunately Mark has thrown away the seat cover from the back seat of his taxi after somebody was sick on it last week, and to our great delight when he pulled the seat up there was an ace windfall of fallen-from-pockets change. Seat covers mean that change does not slip down the back but stays on the seats and people pick it up. This is very unfair but turned out happily on this occasion.
Between the two taxis there was enough to do all the shopping we liked. By that I do not mean ‘enough for a teapot’, but certainly enough to buy cheese and good dog sausages and eggs and some ham, which was brilliant, we bounced happily around the Co-op feeling extravagantly wealthy, which was lovely.
When Mark had gone I made little ham and cheese rolls for our picnic and baked a cherry and coconut cake and then got on with manufacturing pretty Christmas things out of slices of dried up oranges and some berries pinched from the Library Gardens. They are not really pinched because the gardener there said we could help ourselves to anything we liked after Mark was helpful with some farm bags that she needed once: but we did pick them after dark in order to avoid misunderstandings.
Christmas is getting nearer and nearer. This is thrillingly exciting when I think of the lovely Christmas times, and a bit scary when I think that we haven’t finished the camper van and we have spent all of our money, but actually I am so happy about it that I don’t mind in the least. I love the dark nights, and the frosty air, and the snow on the fell-tops. I am so much looking forward to having the children home, and having a holiday together that I can hardly wait. There is the pantomime to look forward to, and the Christmas market, and the best of times to be had.
We have been saving up for a Christmas tree.
They aren’t on sale yet, but it can’t be very long now.
I am counting the sleeps.
