Fence and Post repair
Well folks, sorry for the radio silence — not that anyone needed a weather report from me to know what’s been going on. If you've stepped outside at any point in the last fortnight, you’ll know we’ve been living in a swamp. Honestly, if this keeps up much longer, I’ll have to apply for planning permission to build an ark on the allotment. It’s been that wet. Two solid weeks of rain, drizzle, sideways rain, the occasional downpour that sounds like someone’s emptying a skip on the roof — we’ve had the full British package.
And because of that, I’ve barely set foot on the allotment. I look at the jobs list and it just grows by the day. Every time the forecast says “showers clearing”, the sky hears it as a challenge. I haven’t even managed to drag the merry tiller home yet, and that alone tells you the weather’s been biblical. Normally I’m itching to get the old machines tinkered with, but no — all I’ve done is stare longingly out of the window like a Victorian poet yearning for summer.
But, in true Simon fashion, when one door slams shut in the wind, another one opens — usually into your face — but this time it was straight into the kitchen. And that’s where the fun actually started.
A Bargain Too Good to Miss: The MixStar Arrives
Let’s get one thing clear: I am not one to miss a bargain. You can call it thriftiness, savvy shopping, or — as Sara often says — “another gadget cluttering up the house.” But this time, I hit the jackpot.
A Morphy Richards MixStar popped up on Amazon for 51% off. Now listen, that’s not a discount, that’s a sign from the baking gods themselves. You don’t ignore that sort of thing. You grab it with both hands before someone else does.
What a machine. Tough, compact, and built like it means business. It’s got this clever tool storage bowl that fits inside the main bowl — tidy, organised, and everything in its place. You know me, I like things neat so I can make a proper mess. I’ve only used it for the last two Saturdays, but blimey, it’s already proving itself. Solid bit of kit.
I haven’t touched the whisk or the cookie attachment yet — I’m pacing myself — but give me time. Once I’ve got the hang of the basics, I’ll be knocking out treats left, right, and centre. It’s robust, it’s easy, and honestly? For the price I paid, it practically feels like stealing.
Saturday Baking: The Rise of the Subway-Style Sub
Now, baking cobs and loaves on a Saturday morning is my ritual. It’s my little moment of calm before the chaos of everyday life kicks in. But this week, since I couldn’t get up to the allotment, I thought, “Right. Let’s spice things up a bit.”
So I asked the AI to dig out a recipe for soft subs — the proper sort, like the ones they sell at Subway. Something you can bite into without losing a tooth or accidentally starting a family feud.
I only planned to try a single batch. Just to see.
Five subs later… oh my word.
Soft. Fluffy. Proper bakery quality. I was genuinely surprised. The MixStar didn’t even break a sweat. The dough came together like it knew exactly what it was doing. I could have cried tears of joy if I wasn’t too busy eating.
These subs are absolutely going into the Saturday rotation. In fact, I reckon they might become the main event. Once I’ve perfected them, I’ll be churning them out like a one-man Subway franchise — minus the hair nets and the awkward “Do you want cheese toasted?” conversation.
The Great Shed Migration Begins… Slowly
Right, let’s talk about the shed situation. You remember the plan: move the greenhouse first, then tackle the collapsing shed that’s been standing for over thirty years. A sentimental job more than anything — me and my father-in-law built that thing, and it’s been the silent witness to millions of seedlings, experiments, triumphs, disasters, and the occasional muttered swear word.
So well over a week ago, me and Sam finally made a start.
The first job was lifting the grass where the greenhouse is going to be moved. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Like one of those relaxing gardening montages you see on telly. Well, don’t be fooled. The ground was heavy, the sod was clinging on for dear life, and by the time we’d shifted it, both of us were questioning our life choices.
And then we spotted the fence.
Wobbly as a newborn foal. Leaning like it had one too many the night before. Absolutely no way I could put a greenhouse near that — I’d blink and the whole lot would be flat.
Fence Posts, Concrete, and a Battle of Wills
So I ordered three new fence posts and some Postcrete. A few days later, they turned up, and me and Sam got stuck in. Digging out the old concrete was a job and a half. Honestly, whoever put that in originally must’ve been expecting a hurricane.
The middle post was the worst — naturally the one holding the entire fence together. We chipped away, wrestled with it, glared at it, threatened it… you name it. When we finally got the new post in and set with the quick-setting stuff, it was solid by the evening — which was lucky, because I had to head off to work.
And then, of course, the wind arrived.
Four days of it. Blowing hard enough to make you consider tying your children to the fence for stability. The whole project came to a grinding halt. I’d walk past the kitchen window muttering at the sky like some grumpy old clockmaker.
Once the wind finally calmed, we cracked on. Got the last two posts in, panels fastened, everything straight and steady again. I found an old fence panel I’d stored years ago (because you never throw things like that away — future you will bless past you eventually). Cut some boards off it and patched up the small holes like a budget handyman on a mission.
A Lick of Paint and a Visit from Storm Claudia
Then came the fence paint. You know that satisfying feeling when you get the first coat on and everything looks fresh again? I had exactly two mornings of that. Two. Because then the rain arrived. Again.
Not just rain — Storm Claudia.
You couldn’t make it up. I’d barely managed to get one coat on before the wind came howling in like an unwelcome relative. The fence was shaking, things were flying around the garden, and I was stood there thinking, “Well that’s that then… again.”
But fair play to the fences — they stood their ground. Not a wobble. Those new posts are earning their keep already.
And So, the Project Creeps Forward
So here I am — two weeks later — with half a fence done, a shed that hasn’t moved an inch, a greenhouse still waiting politely, and an allotment that probably needs a visit from the Coast Guard.
But do you know what? Progress is progress. Even slow progress. And with Sam helping whenever he can, and the weather hopefully deciding to calm down, we’ll get there. Eventually. Probably. Unless the next storm is already lining up with a silly name and a grudge.
At least the baking has kept me sane. If the allotment refuses to cooperate, I’ll keep churning out those subs and cobs until the sun decides to show its face again.
Right then — that’s the latest from me. If you’re battling the weather too, keep at it. And if not… well, send some sunshine my way, would you?
Victorian Poet my ass..lmao
ReplyDeleteLove you
FTm