In which there is unseasonal sunshine and Excursions and a nasty surprise at the end. Point and laugh, peeps!

But first, I had to take the Bossman out and show him a good time – you know, to show that I can, and I’m not just the limpet to his rock. Thus it was, Saturday dawned bright and glorious without a cloud in the sky, despite the weather forecast being for peeing rain. Due to having tanned all the rowan wine (woe, and the strawberry is gone too, soon I will be down to the trusty peapod stuff, ack), however, we got up around lunchtime and missed most of it. So much so that when I was going into the freezer for breakfast materials, the Bossman suggested we just cut and run and get a Mickey D’s on the way down the coast. (This is an important Plot Point for later.)

Anyway, off we set for the Heads Of Ayr, which apparently is a small zoo-type thing with meerkats and so forth. It was still a gorgeous day and I was outrageously happy, which just goes to show that homebrew has far fewer chemicals in it, or something. However, despite my careful scheming with my Colleague of Skull Scarves, the place was overrun with small children, so we kept on trucking, right up the Electric Brae, which I had not heard of, and had no idea what it is, despite it being world famous.

Turns out it is neither a giant Christmas illumination nor an electrified fence, it is an optical illusion where it looks like the road is going downhill when it’s going uphill. We met a stalled sportscar there and everything. I was far more impressed than most people, I fear. And we went to Culzean Castle, which has everything – ponds and walled gardens and caves and deer and a beach with rockpools and dead jellyfish everywhere.

We are nearly at the place I spent my childhood in, said the Bossman. Shall we continue? And why not! So we kept on, through the Land Of No Wifi and an interesting spat between a bunch of bikers and a BMW driver who nearly took one of them out and was chased up the road at high speed for his sins. And lo, it turns out the Bossman still has relatives in the area (being a bit thick, I hadn’t realised this part, so now it looks like I was totally angling for a Let’s Meet Your Mum! surprise visit, oh not pushy at all). They have many collies, and I had my arms thoroughly cleaned by most of them, and we went out for Chinese. Thank god I had cash on me. So that was all very nice and I don’t think I said anything insulting to anyone.

On the way back, we detoured through the even smaller village the Bossman also grew up in, and then on to the farmhouse on the moors where he grew up too. I take everything back about my childhood home being isolated. The Bossman made more noises about getting me on his insurance and getting me refresher lessons so I can take over this part of the driving already, and it was fair enough because we didn’t get back till nearly midnight. Still, it was lovely to see the sunset over something that isn’t a whole bunch of roofs.

Come Sunday, we made it out of bed at a reasonable hour and went back down the coast to have a go on a steam train. Once again, I was halfway into the freezer when the Bossman suggested we just grab a picnic from the supermarket, so we did. Convinced it was going to be another glorious day, I test-drove a very small frock and of course it clouded over like anything and I froze half to death; but the steam train was very cute and I felt really sorry for the wee place that puts it on, which is all run by volunteers, very reasonably priced and hit up every second weekend by folks in to steal bulk quantities of scrap metal.

On our return, the Bossman was starving hungry, so I finally went into the freezer to get something for dinner and lo and behold, the fecking thing is GUBBED. And this is the big freezer, natch, not the wee one. Everything was melted, and I mean everything in a space that could hold both me and the Bossman, if we were all dead and everything beforehand. All my food is wrecked, yo. (If you don’t count the Fortress of Tins, but still.)

Interrogating the internet revealed that often a powercut will kill the compressor on one’s freezer. I did not know this! So everything has been gubbed SINCE WEDNESDAY OH JESUS. I woulda discovered it earlier, too, if we hadn’t kept deciding to eat out, ahahaha. Thus is my laziness rewarded.

Fair play to the Bossman, he did not sod off home in search of food, but piled in and helped me assess the damage (and throw out binbags of melting produce). To my amazement, most of the stuff at the bottom was still frozen solid, so while I have lost quantities of cheap veg, the duck is okay and so is a lot of the soup and stock. We just needed somewhere to put it.

Fortunately, it turns out I have exactly enough plums to make a vat of plum wine (which I was not going to do out of fear of borking it and losing the lot, but demijohns are not gonna cut it at this point). So we hauled all the plums out of the wee freezer and there was almost enough space to take the salvage. And the Lady of Lovely Hats came round with a delivery of rotting veg for the compost heap at that very minute and left with a large helping of tupperwares marked ‘Balti – Not For Guests’ (but she said it’s okay because she eats strange ingredients too). And so everything salvageable was saved, except for one tub of homemade stock and a marscapone tub. Which is admittedly far, far better than it could be.

Being an ungrateful sod, however, I was still massively bummed out, because that means another vast shell-out to replace the damn freezer, so the Bossman took me out to dinner to cheer me up. And have a glass of wine, because by god I needed one at that point.

So, so much for my plans for a nice, chilled evening Getting Stuff Done. I mean, stuff definitely was done, but there was way more running around screaming than I had planned for.

I feel I handled the whole thing quite well, however. Alas, I remembered too late that if I handle things quite well, all that happens is the Powers That Be send more things until I start crying. Perhaps it’s some subtle way of saying, ‘Well done, you have levelled up!’ – unfortunately, I read the Book of Job as a kid and took away the object lesson that you should cry uncle as soon as things start going wrong, because if it’s being done on purpose, they will just never stop.

So, since I have a holiday coming up and all sorts: Uncle!!!


About beshemoth

Mainly making art, making wine, writing and gardening. Having a life only as the above allows.
This entry was posted in all the small things, cheese with that?, homebrew, karma, so much for plan b, social events. Bookmark the permalink.

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