Dogs (and other Pets)

We always had dogs when I was a child. My father had greyhounds, although I don't really think they'd be classed as 'pets' as such. They lived in their own kennels and there was a run for them in the garden at Malting Farm. Some were put into greyhound races, but others were used for coursing. I know it's not considered 'P.C.' (Politically Correct) and hunting with dogs is now illegal, that is still what they were basically used for. I'm not going to get into a discussion on the rights or wrongs of it in this post, although in some sense, in the early part of the 21st Century, perhaps it's a good thing that we don't continue with such things, but I'm not convinced one way or the other. One of the dogs won some race, it may have been at the White City Stadium in London, back in the early 1960's, because he had a large trophy which sat on the sideboard in the lounge at Malting Farm, which was the prize for this race. I'm not sure whether there was any money involved. Dad was a greyhound trainer, which is one reason the greyhounds were kept in separate accommodation. There were several litters of puppies born at Malting Farm, and the dogs made exceptionally good mothers. Contrary to what you believe about greyhounds they are very affectionate and do make good pets and I know people re-home retired greyhounds. One, in particular, called Ben, who became a stud dog, was often bought into the house and made a fuss of, but unfortunately he was poisoned during one event, I think the Waterloo Cup, which was held every year in Lancashire (now no more since 'hunting with dogs' is illegal.) Although you must not call greyhounds 'dogs.' I don't know what the outcome of the poor animal who was poisoned, whether the culprit was found or whether the police were involved. I think the poison was paraquat or some sort of poison used to keep down weeds.

Being a farm, there were always labradors around, usually black. Beautiful creatures used to retrieve game during shooting expeditions and the annual 'shoot', which was quite a big event, culminating in a large meal, provided by my mother and comprised of quite an elaborate meal in the dining room at Malting Farm. Later, my brother Andrew had a black-and-white Cocker spaniel, called Pippa, who came from a litter produced by a bitch owned by my Kendall cousins who lived at Eyeworth, near Sandy. Pippa was a sweet-natured little dog, who always went around with a wagging tail. We went to Fronton-On-Sea for summer holidays as well as to Brightlingsea, a little further down the Essex coast, where my father had a sailing boat called 'Flashpoint' on which we occasionally stayed. The boat was moored in the Colne estuary, and to get to it you had to use a small rubber boat or 'tender.' Trying to get out to the yacht with a load of shopping as well as Pippa was quite an ordeal. She had a tendency to always want to swim, which is what all spaniels seem to love. But on one particular occasion, she decided that she couldn't be contained on board ship for too long and took off by jumping in. But, as there was a  strong tide in the Colne estuary, she got caught in a song current which means she could possibly get back to the yacht. So we had to get in the tender and row after her in order to rescue her, otherwise, she would have been lost and possibly drowned. Even though she was a strong swimmer, she couldn't swim fast enough against the rapidly ebbing tide and would have been swept out to sea, never to be seen again. On the beach at Fronton, Pippa would enjoy the sea, and it was quite difficult to keep her out of the water. Her one abiding passion was chasing things, which is what a Cocker excels at, along with swimming. It was at a time when Frisbees were all the fashion, but if anyone was seen playing with one, usually someone or other of our family or friends, or complete strangers, merely throwing the things between one another, Pippa had the idea that the Frisbee was being thrown for her entertainment, and if the thing landed, she would run and pick it up and play with it herself, which could be quite embarrassing, particularly as she had a tendency to chew the things.

My brother James had a couple of black labradors. One I think was called Flon. She had a tendency to run off. As a child, I seem to remember another black labrador called Sorrel. I don't remember much about this dog. We had small Jack Russel Terriers in the 1960 and 70s. We had a small, tan and white terrier which had a wiry coat and called Honey. Unfortunately, it died. I think Dad took it to show the greyhounds and one barked and it scared the poor little pup to death. Sad. A really sweet little dog. I think she came from family friends who lived in Carlton, whose dog had puppies. Then Dad got another little Jack Russel, small, black and white and with an undershot jaw. Funny how you remember these things. She was called Spike. I don't know why. I think it was because her tail was like a spike. Then we got a second dog, a bit bigger than Spike, who got called Milligan, after the Goon's writer and comedian. I think it seemed an obvious name, come to think of it. He was black and white with tan markings, on his face and legs. He took to me and pined when I went to school. He used to sleep on my bed and followed me around like a shadow. Unfortunately, he rather liked the neighbour's chickens. I think he might have chased a few and killed them. Then he wasn't around anymore. I don't know what happened to him. Went to a new home, away from chickens. I was quite upset, as you can imagine. Then, a few years later another dog came into our lives, another Jack Russell Terrier. She was called Lucy. She had a problem with her skin. She got an allergic reaction to flea bites and her skin came out in a horrible load of sores. She was small, and to relieve the itching caused by the sores she rubbed herself underneath the armchairs in the lounge and made the sores bleed. Poor little thing. She had a sort of epileptic fit one evening when she was let out into the garden. It was quite distressing to see this, laying on her pack, with her legs shaking. She came out of it a few minutes later, but I thought she was going to die. I just think she was prone to have an odd sort of metabolism or something, which meant her heart raced at too high a level, which was what caused the epileptic fit.

Another dog we had, probably a good deal earlier, was a dachshund, called Chippy. He was light brown with white markings. He was very like a sausage (I know, dachshunds are often called 'Sausage Dogs.) and called Chipolata, hence, Chippy for short. He loved music, or so he seemed to, because if you were to play a mouth-organ (or harmonica) he would howl along. It was very amusing. He got his tail, which was very long for such a little dog, and got caught in the rear door when my mother had a Hillman Husky, which had a rear door which was operated by a lever on the car's dashboard. How on earth his tail got caught in the door when it got shot I really don't know, but as a result, the end of his tail had about half an inch missing. It never recovered and ended in a rather abrupt tip and the hair never grew back.

So, now Carol and I have two dogs, as you will know if you have been reading my posts on here over the years. The oldest one, Poppy, is a Shitsu-West Highland Terrier cross. She has a stubborn streak and does what she wants, particularly when we take her out for a walk, and you have to put her back on her lead and she runs off and won't return. When I first met her, at Carol's house in Crownhill (a good ten years ago now.) she was so excited to meet me that she weed on my leg! Take her anywhere with water, such as a lake or river, and before you know it, she'll be in and swimming.
The other dog we have is Alfie, who is a Yorkshire Terrier. A faithful little dog, who took to me very early on and follows me around the house like a shadow. He's even-tempered and has a lot of courage, especially when we're out walking and he comes across far larger dogs. He hates cats and if one comes into our garden he barks loudly. Both dogs sleep on our bed at night, but disturb Alfie at your peril and he will growl to warn you off. He doesn't like being disturbed and falls asleep at the merest opportunity.

My brother Robert was keen on horses. We had a pony called Meg from quite early on and Andrew had a couple of ponies, one called Whiskey, a black and white pony as well as a white one whose name I forget. My younger brother, Sandy, used to go to gymkhanas around Bedfordshire and take part in the various events and got quite good at it. I'm not sure these are still going, but there used to be an annual one at Clapham as well as the Young Farmers' rally at Silsoe. My grandmother Ferriman was President or something for several years. I do recall, from quite an early age, being taken to these events, even though I never took part. I did ride, occasionally, but what put me off was all the mucking out and tack cleaning which went with caring for horses. The fact that I was kicked by one of the horses and then bitten by another, quite badly, in the fleshy part of my arm, might have something to do with it, as well as being on one of the ponies which bolted with me on board and nearly going through a five-bar gate has definitely got something to do with it!

I'm fairly certain we had other pets. A budgerigar, which I seem to remember lived in a cage in the kitchen at Malting Farm. Whether it was male or female I have no idea. There was a tortoise, but it lived in the garden and wandered as tortoises do and was rarely seen, no doubt hiding away amidst the flowers and other plants, but was rarely seen. Which makes me wonder how it ever survived winter. No doubt it hibernated somewhere or other. One of my brothers, Robert perhaps, had a fish in a tank, and I think it was in his bedroom, but whether it survived I can't recall. That is all I can remember of any pets we had as children. Growing up on a farm there were always animals, such as cows and pigs (I don't actually think there were pigs at Malting Farm. The Porter's, who lived next door, had a pig unit, and there were some at Mill Farm, my grandfather's farm. Sheep didn't come onto the farm until my eldest brothers took over when my father retired in the 1970's. We were never allowed to become to attached or over sentimental with any of the animals, although we sometimes reared some of them, such as bucket-feeding calves. They were all treated with respect and had good lives.  And my mother had chickens and we had chicks which were hatched somewhere or other and put in a deep litter house and laid eggs which were sold.

Trentham Gardens Trip

Another sunny Saturday, so an outing was definitely in order. Carol mentioned going to somewhere called Trentham Gardens, but as I wasn't aware of this place, I was more than intrigued to find out more about it. Instead of driving up the M1 and then to the M6 we went north up the A5. It might have taken longer and we would almost certainly have avoided any roadworks, which seem to have been going on for years (see earlier posts on this blog to see how many times we've been along the M1 going north and had to spend time waiting in the coned-off section of the Motorway, held up in queues of stationary traffic, or whatever.) It took a good two-and-a-half hours to get to Trentham Gardens, which is near Stoke-On-Trent, in Staffordshire. I have never heard of this place before Carol mentioned it, but she discovered the place when she was searching for something else on the internet. I think it was when she was searching for an outlet shopping village near Matlock and then we went to Masson Mills.  The place was something of a disappointment, to be honest. We had come across another outlet shopping village somewhere near Matlock a few years ago when we, presumably, came back from a holiday in Yorkshire, but we've never been able to find where that was exactly so we could re-visit.Perhaps we'll find it again if we search on the internet. It's surprising how many places we've found, quite by accident, when we've least expected. Such as the amazing Fanny's Farm, when we were driving south when we came off the motorway when we were travelling to Worthing for a weekend away a few years ago. Which is when we came across Trentham Gardens. We had intended driving there a few weeks ago when Carol was on Easter holiday, but the weather was so bad we abandoned the journey and landed up somewhere else. How the weather can put paid to outings, holidays or other things we've so carefully planned!

On arrival in the car park, we were surprised how well laidout it all was. There certainly looked as if there was plenty to see and do. Beautifully designed wooden buildings along one side which housed the main entrance and also lead into a shopping area, small-scale, chalet-style buildings along each side of an arcade. Some of the shops bore familiar names, such as The Works (discount books) whilst others sold clothes, food and a wide range of other goods. We were in need of a recuperating cup of coffee and possibly a roll or sandwich, and there was an exceptionally good range to choose from, so we went into Cadwalader's Café and chose hot chocolates and bacon rolls, very well presented and brought to our table by proactive staff. Unlike some places, where the staff can be rude and unfriendly and the food not always up to standard. This was certainly not the case here. We wandered through the shopping village and as we did so, there seemed to be more and more people arriving. It appears to be a very popular place. Also, a good deal more friendly than Bicester Village, which we visited the other week, and the prices a good deal cheaper, which has a sort of snobby feel to it.

We paid at the entrance to go into the gardens. On walking through we were surprised how large it was. Good paths with firm surfaces (important if you have someone in a wheelchair or a child in a pushchair or buggy. We saw plenty of these as we walked around.) My wife was intrigued by the fairies that were dotted around the gardens, beautifully sculpted from wire. We did take some photographs of some of these, but it was quite difficult as they were very fine and didn't stand out particularly well against the sky or background scenery. We also noticed that dogs were allowed, provided they were well behaved and on leads. They were even allowed into the shops and restaurants.

We walked through the Italian Garden, which had beautifully laid-out beds and in the middle of some were fountains. We walked on and came to a raised, terraced area with a viewing platform. From up there you could see down the middle of the Italian Garden towards an expansive lake. It would appear that the mansion, that once was so central to Trentham Gardens, was in a derelict state and from notice this was hopefully going to be restored and to be made into a 5-star hotel. In its current state it doesn't look very promising, but, having seen various television programmes where buildings are restored from being in extremely derelict conditions and what it's possible to achieve, I could see this happening and being a very fine hotel.

We walked on and past some interesting sculptures and to an area where there some show gardens, many having won prestigious awards at the Chelsea Flower Show, and some gave us good ideas of how our garden could be transformed. Then we came to the lake and had some extremely nice ice cream and this gave us a chance to stop and sit and relax. We saw that there was a boat on the lake and it turned out that you could go on board and cruise the lake, which is what we did. A good hour or so, eventually reaching the furthest point of the lake and stopping to take aboard new passengers and then  return, with the pilot giving a running commentary and history of Trentham Gardens.
On returning to the landing stage and leaving the boat we went out to the shopping mall and bought cheese in one shop and food in another which sold artisan food, a fine meat pie along with potatoes and other vegetables for our evening meal when we got home.

Today (Sunday) Trentham Gardens features on the BBC1 television programme "Antiques Roadshow." As I write this it is being broadcast, but I have set up our Sky+ box to record it and we will watch it tomorrow evening.

A good day out and well worth a further visit because there is still a lot left to explore and enjoy.

Plumbers . . . Been and Gone

The leaking pipes from the kitchen sink and which takes the overflow from the washing machine has now been fixed. The two men came at around 10.15 and the work was completed a good deal quicker than I expected. The ramshackle arrangement which had been there before was causing a blockage which is why it leaked from the pipe where the boiler overflow was connected. Now all sealed and sorted. I have since done some washing (one of the dogs blankets was in the machine and was in the process of being washed last week when all this started. It's now on the washing line drying as I write this.) So, things are back to -relative- normality.

Plumber . . . No Show

We were supposed to have had the plumber come this morning to fix the leak and replace the piping behind the washing machine (as mentioned in an earlier post on here.) When nobody appeared by 10 a.m. I was told that they were held up at another job and would be with me later. But then someone appeared and told me they wouldn't be coming after all and said they'd get here tomorrow morning. So, still unable to use the washing machine or do washing-up properly without the water running on the floor. We'll just have to manage for a further day until it is done tomorrow.

No sooner had I been told that the plumbing work wasn't going to be done until tomorrow (Friday) than I decided I wanted to go and get something to eat from Waitrose or Sainsbury's. Then I saw, by   looking out of the kitchen window, that I wasn't going to be able to reverse out of the parking space because there was a car immediately behind, parked in the way, with a woman talking to another two in the road. They were deep in conversation, totally oblivious to what was going on around them and unaware that they were blocking in our car. I thought they'd be gone in a few minutes, but even after a good twenty minutes, they were still there, continuing their discussion. I began to think I wasn't going to be able to get out, so stayed in the house and made myself something to eat without going anywhere. They did eventually move away, but even then it didn't seem in the least bit conscious that someone was needing to reverse out of their parking space.

I'm steadily transferring my hand-written material onto word processing. It takes a long time. I can do about 20 minutes at a stretch in one session.

It's quite chilly this morning. Dry, but deceptively warm, but it's cold.

Waterperry Gardens and Medical Appointment

On Sunday morning, it was bright sunshine. Rather than sit indoors we wanted to make an effort to get out. Saturday it rained constantly. The grass remained partially mown, unfortunately. Carol is eager to get plants and other items to get the garden turned round. We went to Wickes the other day and bought some tools. Saves us having to borrow off other people. A spade and lopper which means we can cut down any stray branches and dig any holes as required for planting. We also bought a chimenea from the on-line company, Very, which arrived last week, which is why we went to Wickes to buy tools, including screwdrivers in order to put the chimenea together. The thing came in a large parcel and it didn't include such items as a cross-head screwdriver. We now have one which has interchangeable heads for different size screws. It wasn't such a big deal putting it together if you followed the instructions  which came with it, as with most things you buy nowadays. Although, if you buy something from IKEA, for example, such as a piece of flat-pack furniture, it usually comes with at least an Allan key which allows you to put it together. 

We wanted to go to a garden centre and had intended visiting one near Waddesdon Manor. We went there several years ago, and I think it may be part of the estate. We looked on Google Maps, and had found where it was, but when we drove all the way there we couldn't find this garden centre which was somewhat annoying. It's around 40-minute drive from Milton Keynes to Waddesdon. We then decided to drive toWaterperry Garden, which we visited several years ago. But, unfortunately,  we had no map with us in the car and spent some time driving around somewhat aimlessly until I decided to try and find the address on my recently acquired Samsung smartphone. But I found it was very difficult managing to input text as we drove along, so we stopped in a layby and managed to find where Waterperry Gardens were. Near Wheatley, Oxfordshire, and just off the M40 a few miles east of Oxford. Once we had the address it was relatively easy to find, but in the process of driving around rather aimlessly, we discovered some really attractive villages and the scenery is really beautiful. We spent some time wandering around the garden centre at  Waterperry and had coffee and sandwiches in the restaurant. We met a lot of cyclists as we drove around the Oxfordshire country roads. In brightly coloured Lycra and cycling in convoy. Unfortunately there we numerous cyclists as we got to Waterperry and some of them in the restaurant, one in particular with a rather loud laugh which was enough to put anyone off. Why is it some men, in particular, seem to get over-enthusiastic at such times, and can't control their behaviour and have to be so LOUD? We bought a couple of plants, a tray of wildflowers and a buddleia and, as it was beginning to cloud over, decided to drive home.

Today (Monday) Carol had an appointment at the medical centre in Stony Stratford. I think I mentioned in an earlier post on here that she had the appointment come in a letter and I had to drive all the way over to Stoney to make the appointment for her as she was at work. This seemed a complete waste of time and effort because we live around a ten-minute walk away from Milton Keynes Hospital, but we had to drive all the way across Milton Keynes for the appointment in Stoney, leaving at 8.20 for the appointment at 9.15. We got there far too early so we had to waste around 30 minutes so we walked along Stony Stratford High Street. A really interesting place which is full of history. We went into the medical centre, a rather run-down looking building which looks totally out of place in such a beautiful place and not the sort of design that would be allowed today. It looks stuck in the 1960's or '70's and most likely hasn't been given a lick of paint since then. Once inside it was heaving with people either queuing up or making appointments. We went into the waiting area and, well, yes, you've guessed it - we waited. As with most modern health centres and N.H.S. facilities, there was one of those computerised check-in screens and Carol was therefore registered, although, to be honest, I never trust them because the one at Ashfield Medical centre, where we're registered, never always works. You sit and have to stare at this computer screen on the wall in front of you and you're bombarded with a welter of instructions and information on everything from their policy on aggressive behaviour to a range of services for those with dementia to bi-polar disorder. It's really over-done as it flits past at such speed, so how are you expected to take it all in? People come and go, and everyone else sits and coughs, splutters and mutter to themselves. It's an a real barrel of laughs.  I needed the toilet. When Carol arrived she went to the ladies in the reception area. But where were the gents? Why no toilet next to it for men to use? Which is usual in such places. I had to ask at the reception desk and found it was away from the reception area in another corridor. Why no sign to show you where it was? Crazy. What a depressing place. As I said, run down and desperately in need of redecorating. I know the N.H.S. is short of cash, but surely they could make this dismal place a little less depressing. 

Carol's appointment came up, a good ten minutes later than it was supposed to be. I was surprised the nurse came out to call her and her name didn't come up on the digital screen (similar to Ashfield Medical Centre.) 20 minutes later she came out to tell me she has yet another appointment on 4th May. We left and then went to Costa to have a latte and cake before getting back in the car and going across Milton Keynes and the Academy and me back home.

Worsening Weather

As I've mentioned in the earlier post, we now have a repaired fence. It's taken long enough time to find someone to do the work, that is, within a reasonable budget. We knew our beloved landlord wasn't going to do anything about it as he's tight-fisted, to say the least. As a result of the work we are now hoping to transform the garden so at least we can use it to sit in and enjoy. I think 'garden' is a somewhat loose term as it's got no beds or flowers in it or any vegetables in order to qualify it for 'garden.' I spent some time yesterday removing some rather unsightly objects from the 'space', such as a really ugly black plastic dustbin and a pile of four white plastic chairs which has been in the garden since we moved in. Also, an ancient barbecue and unsightly rubbish which is now inside the shed, or at least, what remains of the shed. The door to this hangs on one hinge, but at least this unsightly paraphernalia is out of sight and out of mind. I had considered getting the local council to remove it all, but it would have meant lugging it all through the house and placing it on the grass at the front of the house, and it would have meant a payment of around £20 for the council to come along and remove it, so the idea of it all going in the shed seemed a far better option all round. It seems that we have to contend with former tenants of this property who left oddments of furniture such as mattresses and the like in the shed (why they couldn't be disposed of to the local tidy tip I can't imagine. None of these items, particularly the mattresses are well past their best and not fit for use, having been in the shed in all the time we've lived in the house.) Well, when we look out of the lounge window we now have a better view without the junk in the garden and a decent fence in place. I had spent some time yesterday mowing the lawn and had intended finishing it today, but the weather has turned wet and it's impossible to mow grass when it's wet as well as being somewhat dangerous considering the fact that the mower is electric. So I will now have to wait until the rain stops and the grass is dry enough to cut.

Yesterday was reasonably fine and dry for most of the day. Which is what prompted me to get on with sorting out the garden. I got about three-quarters of it done. At around the time I usually go to meet Carol from the Academy, the sky darkened and it spotted with rain. I was going to walk over, as it's only a ten-minute walk, but had thought, it's no good walking, because we'll both get soaked because there was a very dark cloud looming over Milton Keynes. As I stepped out of the front door there was a rumble of thunder. Not good. Poppy doesn't like thunder. It's no good. I know she doesn't like it, but there wasn't a great deal I could do about it. I decided I'd have to drive over, even though it actually takes longer to drive than walk, which seems absurd. You can't get out through the exit which is opposite the Academy because of the traffic, so I have to drive round the estate and go out near the shops. By now it was raining hard, so it was just as well I had chosen to drive. But the joke was, by the timeI drew into the carpark at the Academy the rain had stopped and it was bright sunshine again. Just shows how crazy our weather is in this country. I got out of the car and saw Carol walking towards me. Suddenly there was an almighty clap of thunder and she screamed! She ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me. She doesn't like thunder or lightening! To be honest it never bothers me. I actually like a good thunderstorm. There's something elemental about it. It's exciting. But I don't think Carol would say that. She got in the car and she was glad to be going home.

I am in the process of transcribing my written material onto word processing. It's a somewhat time consuming job and not all that exciting, to say the least. But it must be done. I have several sequences written and I'm currently editing and revising these bits and pieces. I can do around 20 minutes at a time but no more as I can't type for much longer. My hands begin to ache. I think, if you were working in an office, you aren't supposed to work on a computer for more than 20 minutes at a stretch. So I have left off for today and will continue after the weekend.

Repaired Fence and Leaking Washing Machine

We are supposed to be having the fence repaired today at long  last. Well, we found someone through the internet who could do the work for us. As I write this at 8.50 there is no sign of the man. We have even been to the A.T.M. to take out the cash to pay for it. So, when is he going to appear? I wait with baited breath, because, if you've followed this blog for any length of time, you will know that this matter has been a cause for some sort of concern for quite a while. Even when we were with Smartmove, the rental agency, someone had come to have a look at the fence with a view to having it all repaired. That was a good FIVE YEARS ago, and the state of the fence is, well, words fail me. I have even been out with the new Canon digital camera and taken some photographs so we can have 'before and after' shots when the work is completed. If it's completed, because I was expecting the workman to be here by now. At least by 9 o'clock.

Then there's the other problem. I did two loads of washing on Monday, and after the second load, I discovered some water on the floor near the machine. In the slot where the recycling bin and rubbish bin stands. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's coming from the outflow pipe because it has a really poor connection with the pipe which takes the waste water from the sink and the washing machine. It looks like a really botched, amateurish job, no doubt done by our landlord who has to get the cheapest job on this sort of thing. Which means that it will cause the sort of problem I have already described. Just to save a couple of pounds. So, I have someone coming later in the morning, again, found through the internet. Never mind. These things are sent to cause us the most problems. Just have to sort it out even though it is the landlord's job to get it fixed. If I had rung him, it would be days before it was done and we need to use the washing machine again soon.

It's now 9.03 and still no sign of the fence man. Is he going to turn up? Keep reading to find out. The excitement is too much.

I have put the dogs in our bedroom because I don't want a repeat of what happened when the workmen came to replace the boiler and Alfie got out. He was easy to get into the room upstairs, but Poppy, being her usual stubborn self, refused to comply. I had to pick her up and carry her. But least they are in there and safe until the work is done. That is if it is done. I do hope so.

The workmen arrived a few minutes later. Three of them. As I write this they are carrying fence panels around to the rear of he house.

It turns out that they also do plumbing and one of the men has been looking at the plumbing behind the sink and the washing machine and what he has said about it is worrying, to say the least. The piping needs replacing. Another botched job in order to save a few pounds. It must be done, so I will have to get them to come back at a later date. It isn't actually the washing machine which is leaking. It's because there is a back-up of water and muck caught in the pipes because there is insufficient fall to allow the water to drain away as it should.

I have had another plumber come and look at the leaking pipe, as contacted earlier this morning. He had a look and now tells me it should be dealt with by the company who installed the new boiler. So I have rung them and they should come and look at the problem and should repair it for nothing as it's their fault there is a leak. I'm somewhat annoyed that the joint (where the boiler is plumbed into the outflow pipe) is so poorly finished hence the leak.

Some time later. The gas boiler fitter came out and looked at the leaking problem and then said that the pipe is most likely blocked. I'm not surprised, looking at the weird arrangement of plumbing. It needs to be unblocked. It is the pressure of any water building up inside, and particularly when the washing machine is emptying, which is putting a strain on the joint which is where the leak is coming from. So it looks as if I'll have to ring our landlord and get him to find a plumber himself to sort this thing out. I only know that he's going to get a cheap job just to save money, but without the thing fixed we can't use the washing machine which is really out of the question.

Now that the fence is restored to some sort of normality, we're intrigued by Alfie's reaction to it. He went out as soon as the workmen had left and he had to go out and see what all the fuss and commotion was about. He had been in the bedroom with Poppy but couldn't see anybody but could obviously hear. He stood and looked at the fence and seemed to be saying 'What's that thing? It wasn't there yesterday. I seem to remember I could see things through there.' Very comical, to say the least. And he keeps on going out and staring at it. A Very sharp little dog is Alfie.

Trip to the Swiss Garden

We haven't had a particularly good couple of weeks due to the weather. Our week in the cottage in East Sussex was abandoned due to the extreme weather, as recorded in a previous post. We did, however, go to visit Carol's mum and dad last Wednesday in Southampton. We booked rail tickets on-line and drove to Oxford in order to journey down via train. It was a long day, as we left Milton Keynes around 7.30 to get to the park and ride at Water Eaton and then catch a bus into the main station in Oxford. The journey down was straightforward and took around 90 minutes. Carol's parents were on the station platform when we arrived and we spent the day wandering around the city, including having lunch in a Weatherspoons pub, always good value. We came back on the train which left at around 3.45 and got back to Oxford at about 5.15. It seems to be the most convenient way to travel down to see them, avoiding the long car journey down to Bournemouth where they live.

Today we were determined to get out somewhere as the weather had improved. As a result we decided to go to the Swiss Garden at Old Warden in Bedfordshire. We have been before, but that was a few years ago. The car park was virtually empty when we arrived, but as the morning progressed it gradually filled up. The sun shone, but it wasn't too hot. In fact, the right sort of mild weather making it ideal for walking around outside in a garden. The Shuttleworth collection is pat of the place, but we didn't visit that and may return at a later date. Perhaps when some of the planes are flying. I have seen it, but that was years ago. I seem to recall a school visit so you get some idea how long ago it was. There is a restaurant and shop as part of the complex, where you pay to enter.

The Swiss Garden is deceptive because it doesn't occupy a very large space, and the way it's laid out means you turn a corner and discover something new each time, such as a pond with a delightful wrought iron bridge over it, or a folly or other building such as the thatched  Swiss Cottage which is in the centre of the garden or the Indian Kiosk which has seats in it so you can stop and sit and enjoy the view. There is now a woodland walk which include a sculpture trail which wasn't part of things the last time we visited. It has a decent path to walk on.

When we had completed our visit we had coffee and very nice chocolate cake in the restaurant  before leaving. We drove on to Jordan's Mill which is a mile or two up the road at Broom, just off the A1. I'd heard about this and was interested to see it as you get to see the workings of a water mill which has been in operation on the same site for centuries. We didn't pay for the guided tour but walked around the adjacent garden before driving back towards Milton Keynes.