Grapes of Wrath

I have almost finished the tiresome grapes.

I have filled another three Kilner jars with Rum-and-Grapes, making the total to five. I would have liked to start sampling these rather badly, and had to put them on the bottom shelf underneath the dresser in order that I would forget about them until Christmas.

After that it was back to the whole jam-making thing of picking and boiling and pureeing and sieving and then boiling again. Mark encouraged me to throw the pips away in the end. He said that life was just not long enough for some activities.

I was relieved about this, although now we will not have Grapeseed Oil, with all its health-giving properties, and instead we will have fat sleek crows, who have been picking the leftovers out of the compost heap, crossly, because they liked the grape vine when it was covered in grapes. I have left some on the vine for them, and for the wasps, who have kept buzzing hopefully into the kitchen whilst I have been occupied, and who have had to be ushered out, disappointedly.

The picture shows the last few. I have processed about three times that many. I started off weighing them, but lost interest after about fifteen pounds, given that our record total before now was sixteen. I haven’t bothered weighing the ones in the photograph.

Mark went to the farm to rescue a window that he has had saved for his new shed, and then built some more of the walls to go around it. These have risen slowly all day, and even gone around the other corner, although occasional surprise downpours have slowed things down a bit.

Number Two Daughter went to work.

She dropped me off at the doctor’s this afternoon. I had got to go and have the results of my blood test explained.

It turns out that the cholesterol level in my blood has suddenly risen by lots of points over the last twelve months. I had thought of lots of excuses about drinking and eating chocolates, but as it turned out I didn’t need them. She said that since I hadn’t had a change in lifestyle it was probably caused by lack of oestrogen due to the That Certain Age adventure that is driving me mental at the moment.

We talked about the things that I eat and drink, and about the amount of exercise that I do, which isn’t much at the moment, and she said that none of that was likely to be responsible. I was relieved about this, because frankly there isn’t much left to cut back. I gave up most exciting vices years ago, and I was reluctant to surrender the duller ones as well, life needs some highlights.

She has prescribed a medicine called statins, and said that they would be fine as long as I didn’t read newspapers.  I agreed that I would not, and she said that I would probably need HRT as well, but I had used up my six minutes by then, so I will have to go back for that next month.

I was obliged to cough up a tenner in the chemist for the statins, which seemed reasonable as a means of guaranteeing prolonged life, and then Mark, who had been rained out of the garden, came and washed up for me whilst I finished off the grapes.

Another few hours tomorrow should see them done.

Whilst thus occupied we realised that it was the final night of a film at Bowness Cinema that I really wanted to see, called The Children Act.

We thought that we would forget about work, and go to the cinema.

This turned out not to matter, because work was so rubbish that not long after the film finished, Number Two Daughter came home as well, complaining about boredom and poverty.

The film was splendid, in a sad sort of way, about a lady judge with marital problems and a difficult caseload. We came out feeling very quiet inside ourselves, and held hands all the way down to the taxi rank. Number Two Daughter took us home, and we pretended to be the most irritating sort of customers, asking questions about what time she might finish and giving her helpful directions to her own house. She stood on the brakes in the end and required that we get out, which we did, since we didn’t have any cash left anyway.

It was a lovely end to the day. We are going to get an early night now, because Mark is working for Ted again tomorrow, so we have got to get up.

It never stops happening here, folks.