Drains and Suchlike

Today must qualify as one of the most miserable January days ever – unutterably grey and drizzly. It must have been quite like this inside a medieval dungeon at midsummer. Anyway, apart from such ungovernable forces,life is good.

Steve Cockell (who has built many gardens for me) is extending the terrace by the kitchen door and I am about to buy some lights to make it look like a runway. Too dull to describe in detail but I will put photographs up at some point. Things to look forward to today – Geoffrey Arblaster (digs lakes, knows everything about excavations, talks a lot) is coming over to talk septic tanks this afternoon.

Sounds dreary but, actually, I find drains fascinating – I rather enjoy unblocking them especially leaf clogged downpipes. There is something excruciatingly pleasurable about plunging a hand into freezing cold water and unutterably satisfying in hearing that gurgling as the blockage is cleared and water cascades away. Then there is that moment when your hand looks like a dead fish – pasty and flecked with decaying leaf – followed by pins and needles as circulation returns.

Enough slightly disturbing confessions. Picture of dripping Stipa gigantea.