DSCN0229-2.jpgI’ve followed my friend Naomi’s suggestion and gone along to the local WI meeting. I’d hoped for an Embroiderers’ Guild but there’s not one for miles, though I can go to a knit and natter at a nearby library should I feel the urge – I don’t. I’d much rather go to see Tatiana and Teddie when the weather and work permits.

Anyway, it was a rainy windswept night when I lurched off into the darkness. I arrived having walked through a rather large puddle so wasn’t necessarily looking my best as I tried not to squelch too noticeably. I needn’t have worried. The ladies I met were lovely and very welcoming – they certainly asked a lot of questions. The chairlady was late – there was the milking to do you see.  Then came the joy of singing Jerusalem – I sang (that’s the verb I like to use but it’s not necessarily the word other people would employ)  the bits I remembered and mimed the rest.  I hadn’t realised that learning it by heart was a mandatory requirement.


I’m not sure whether the WI is for me or not. Some of the speakers on the programme sound a tad on the soporific side but the conversation at tea and biscuit time had me sitting on the edge of my chair. I very swiftly came up to speed on four generations of farming families, their births, marriages, affairs and deaths as well as the chap who has a propensity to ring dodgy telephone numbers to listen to young ladies whispering naughtiness in his ears – I’ve no idea what his name is or what he looks like but those in the know were not surprised; apparently his grandfather was one for the ladies as well. Miss Marple was right – absolutely everything does happen in a village.


Meanwhile blackout curtains have been purchased and positioned; I’ve sent out the novel so expect that I shall probably be able to paper the downstairs toilet with rejection letters in due course; I’ve learned what to do with a ham hock – this involves cooking it at a very slow temperature for many hours with lentils or split peas- and I’ve sorted my stationery (I may be a fire hazard).

I’ve also discovered that if you have a box of homemade jam and leave the box somewhere cold then the labels will ultimately fall off if not effectively glued into position. Breakfast is sometimes a bit of an adventure as a consequence. HWIOO thought he’s chosen rhubarb and orange jam but had actually picked the last jar of greengage. I’m under instructions not to make any more jam until such time as the stock cupboard is somewhat barer. Personally I don’t think this includes mango chutney or lemon curd….




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