Week Fourteen: 2022

Our house is filling up. The financial adviser and his new wife are planning on moving in while the house they are buying is restored to rude health. I believe this is called boomeranging though that usually entails someone out of uni or similar, not a 30 something son with his own business. But I must own to looking forward to it. I love cooking, even if I have yet to master the size of the meals I create and often find a fair bit being frozen for future use. That may be less of a trial with two younger, healthy working housemates to cater for.

Said family members came round on Saturday as they undertake a decanting of their current abode and having filled a chunk of the attic sat down for dinner. I asked what they were looking forward to the most in moving in. The journalist (my daughter in law’s latest career) said, ‘the list’ which confused the Textiliste and I until explained. By the phone is a pad of large postits. Each day items are added to it so that if anyone is going to the shops, they know what to get. When son and girlfriend, as was, lived here before the list was a godsend apparently as all she had to do was write something down and the buying angels would have it by the evening. Having lived away from here for a few years, that small support network has been much-missed apparently. I recall it involved certain shops and aisles in the supermarket into which I didn’t usually venture; my retailing repertoire looks like it might be growing again.

I’m plotting out a walk for my former work colleagues that will follow one of the tributaries of the Thames, the Wandle. I broke it into two parts so I could spend time working out the best route, etc. What I hadn’t counted on was, on day two, my inner thigh took a bit of a beating and, to misquote a Beatles song, it was a case of ‘Rub me Tender’. I hadn’t really appreciated the damage I’d done until I slipped into a welcoming bath on my return. Bloody Hell! It felt like some small meanspirited malcontent had naplamed my inner glute while I wasn’t looking. Clearly I need to up my walking miles to toughen up my tush…

Yesterday I walked Dog around one of our many local parks, this one called Belair. On the far side the path follows the fence to some playing fields while being under some rather nice shade. Ahead of us a young woman sat, leaning against a tree reading her phone and listening to something through her airpods. I’ve mentioned before about my dilemma with the right etiquette but she was oblivious to the world outside her phone. As I got closer, over the book I was listening to, I heard, first a hum and then a loud buzzing. It didn’t take long to realise that a bee swarm had just started to form in the tree close to the young woman. It was fascinating; I’ve never seen one before and to see if grow so rapidly was a privilege. Still that many bees…. First I put Dog on his lead – he’s a sensible coward but even so – then took some pics and finally sent an email to ‘Swarm Alert’ who say they’ll contact a local beekeeper to come and collect the swarm. That just left the young woman…

In the end I circled round so I was in her line of sight, about fifteen feet away and waved and pointed at the tree. Of course, she was friendly, interested and grateful to know they were there. Maybe I need to grow up/toughen up a little?

Perhaps tomorrow we’ll go back. I hope the bees will be gone by then.

Meanwhile, back in the garden…

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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39 Responses to Week Fourteen: 2022

  1. gordon759 says:

    I wonder what an April swarm would be worth?
    I say this because of the traditional rhyme.
    A swarm of bees in May.
    Is worth a load of hay
    A swarm of bees in June
    Is worth a silver spoon
    But a swarm of bees in July
    Isn’t worth a fly!

    Answers on a jar of honey.


  2. Cathy Cade says:

    I have a small maisonette back where I used to live East of London, near to where most of my offspring live. It has a double bedroom, one tiny box room and living room had a sofa bed. We normally go down there for a week or so every month, but we hade a long break away pre-lockdown.
    My younger son was living there while waiting for his flat above the pub (work) to be finished when my eldest son and family moved in with him (two adults and toddler). Their flat was being torn apart and remodeled.
    As it happened, all were still there when my youngest daughter came over from New Zealand with her boyfriend (flights booked ages before). They’re al still talking to each other.
    NZ daughter is back in May for another six months.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Chel Owens says:

    Sounds like an adventure. That photo of the fox is stunning, by the way. He’s a handsome fellow.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Jennie says:

    Oh, those bees! I’ll take the fox, not the bees.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. noelleg44 says:

    Wow! That is an impressive swarm that needs to be relocated to where they can make honey in peace. As for your inner thigh, not likely to be a gluteus muscle. The gluteus muscles attach on the outer thigh. So it’s most likely one of the adductors or the obturator (says the old teacher of human anatomy).

    Liked by 2 people

  6. noelleg44 says:

    Reynard is a handsome fellow (or maybe it’s Reynarda).


  7. ThingsHelenLoves says:

    Fox is a beauty. We have plenty around in these parts but they aren’t as bold as their London brothers and sisters!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Darlene says:

    I like the idea of the list. We have one, of course. But I am usually the only one who contributes to it and the only one who does the shopping for the items. Oh well.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. The fox is beautiful. I’ve never seen a bee swarm. Thanks for that.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. How lovely to have a fox in your garden, Geoff. I’ve never seen bees swarm that fast. I am allergic so I tend to avoid bees at all costs.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Wow – bees and fox both impressive!

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Fox *and* bees – you practically live in the countryside! 😉
    (Say, is that a repurposed CD I saw in the the background of the photo of Dog?)

    Liked by 1 person

  13. trifflepudling says:

    The best bit is when you appear (sensibly) to run away from the bees!
    Have fun with your lodgers.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Your opening paragraphs have reverberations for us at the moment. It was sensible to keep your distance from the bees

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Elizabeth says:

    It looks as if the fox has a request for the list. One of the first things my grandchildren learned was to “put it on the list” on the refrigerator. I suppose for them things did magically appear after that.

    Liked by 1 person

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