Fruit and veg harvest

This year’s harvest started with beetroot. I figured they might not grow an awful lot more, and I might as well eat them. I ate the first batch. That was one meal. I think I can get another meal out of the next. That is it! Quite a lot of work for not much food. But I think the beetroot were suffering in the drought. And I didn't want to go and water them every day.

Sad beetroot plant 

The next step was: apples. I don't know if it was something to do with my untalented tree husbandry, or the blisteringly hot and dry summer, but it's not been a good apple year. There are apples, and they are tasty, but just not very many. 

With this camera angle, it actually looks quite good

It is going to end with beans! I had never grown them before. They seem quite forgiving plants. And they must be! I have beautiful beans on my plants. I look forward to eating them. And I will certainly do this again! When I eat them I will also dig out some potatoes. I have loads of potato plants, but it seemed too early to harvest them. But I think the best thing with homegrown beans is homegrown potatoes.

Look at those beans!

I am wondering if I should do another round of planting crops. Would the autumn be long enough to yield something? I suppose I don't have an awful lot to lose! 

Yet another car update

I mentioned that my plan for getting myself an electric car was: go to a big car dealer in England soon after my trip to the Netherlands, and then just buy the EV they have that I like most. It sounded like such a simple plan!

I had already phoned them; they said you could reserve a car, and book a test drive, but only one. It is a long drive, and it seems stupid you can't just drive a few. If you can drive only one, then why would you even? You might as well just buy a car from a distance. Who would make a 5 hour round trip more than once to decide between a few possible cars? 

The good news is, of course, that Neil would come with me, so he could book a test drive as well. And then I could at least make a two car shortlist, and then just choose the best one.

With that plan I phoned them. I had already started a spreadsheet with interesting cars before I went to my trip; I had identified six. When I came back, two of these had been sold, and nothing had taken their place. And with only four left it shouldn't be too difficult to make a two-car shortlist. But when I phoned them, they said that the two cars I was most interested in were not available for test driving. They said they had to undergo some technical tests. I thought that was a bit annoying. Can't they mention that on the website? It is all very well to have all these cars on that site, but if you don't know which ones are actually available, that's of limited use. They said you can go in and switch the engine on, but I do think that there is value in actually driving around. Without that, you might (again) as well buy them from a distance. And then you still want to know which ones are actually available.

They took my details and the license plates of the cars I had hoped to test drive. They say they will let me know when they might be available. It could be weeks! By then, term has kicked off. Very inconvenient. I hope this will work out. Oh and at least, I got the money back I plaid for the Nissan Leaf…

The Bluest Eye

I still have an urge to read classic books. And after I had managed to get through the rather practical book about running and breathing, I started one again. The Bluest Eye. I figured I should really read a Morrison, and this one seemed a good one to start. 

Spoiler alerts!

The protagonist is a nine year-old poor Black girl. And she basically reveals the big plot twist on the first page: there is another girl in their social circle, who ends up being raped by her father and pregnant because of it. The protagonist has a real child's perspective on everything.

You don't really get the perspective of the other girl, but you do get the whole life stories of her parents. And given that they are American, poor and Black, these are not uplifting stories. 

Quite early on the book, the protagonist says that she doesn't understand why dolls are always depictions of pretty blonde white girls, and that she hates them. She understands the social pressure to love them.

It is the girl that ends up pregnant that is the one that explicitly asks for having blue eyes herself. Does this end well for her? I'll leave that to your imagination.

This is obviously not a cheerful book. It is full of racism, poverty, domestic violence and alcoholism. But who said that books should be uplifting? What I did like was the big background you get of many of the characters in it. It is one thing to introduce someone who does monstrous things. It is another thing to show the life that someone has had before they did it. And I think it is a good idea to read more or less realistic depictions of awful lives. People have those. And if you're lucky enough not to have one yourself, it is good for the soul to sometimes step into the shoes of people who do. Or did.

It's not a big book; I read it entirely during my trip to the Netherlands. I can really recommend it! For those that don’t mind a bit of a battering…

End to my Dutch trip

The main focus of my stay was family, but I would spend the last night with friends. I would go see Roelof after he would come back from work and at some point, Viking would join us. I would spend the night there, and then I could go straight to the Eurostar terminal the next morning.

On my way to Roelof

When I got there I first caught up with Roelof over a drink, on the balcony. Micha did the cooking. Spectacularly, as usual. And after dinner we returned to the balcony for more drinks. Viking was at a promotion party, so he came a bit later. Unfortunately, not before after bedtime. Oh well; I thought I would be able to cope.

In order to not keep Micha awake, who wasn't 100% and had to stick to conservative bedtimes, we went to a nearby terrace. Viking soon joined us.

Viking had been on holiday, Roelof and Micha had been away twice and would go a third time, Roelof had done things on his house and had exciting events coming up. We had all read books and seen films and listened to music. And had thoughts about climate and AI and the nuclear apocalypse. Enough to talk about!

Then the pub closed, and we all went home. Then followed one of the less successful parts of my trip: the night. Roelof asked if I wanted to the balcony door open or closed. What was more important: get fresh air in, or keep mosquitoes out? And I am not used to having to think about mosquitoes at night, and I like fresh air, so I said open. And regretted it.

I woke up a bit sleepy the next morning. The mosquitoes had had a whale of a time! I counted 14 mosquito bites on my left leg alone. That makes me appreciate my rather mosquito-free time in Wales again.

Travelling back to the UK went smoothly. I had a direct train to London, which was great. Getting to Euston was fine too. When I was at the picnic benches awaiting news of my train, some lady waved at me. She came up to me and said she recognised me from the Eisteddfod. I had never expected to have a lively conversation in Welsh in the middle of London.

Soon after that, things turned for the worse. My train, which would get to Wales via Stafford, Crewe and Chester, was delayed. Initially only by 20 minutes, but soon the sign said that getting to Crewe would be faster by a train that would leave 41 minutes after the original departure time of my train. Shit! How bad would it get?

Delightful Euston

Then there was an announcement. My train was only 20 minutes late after all. And it duly trundled all the way to Bangor. Soon I was home. And I got to sleep in my own bed, next to my own cat. It had been good to be in the Netherlands, but it was good to be home as well!