The first potatoes and other scenes from domestic life

 Ah yes, potatoes. Today the Glam. Ass. has, with the hunter-gatherer's zeal, brought in the first of the new season's spuds. Little titchy jobs, same size as the marbles we used to call 'dobbers' - a little smaller than golf balls. Undeniably sweet and fresh, cooked with a sprig of mint and served with a dab of English butter - possibly a feast in themselves.

But what's that nagging thought: 'Men are from potatoes Mars, women are from cupcakes Venus'? What is it with men and potatoes? I can beg, plead and cajole but the delicate task of weeding between baby seedlings is never done but the selection, planting and harvest of the King Edwards has all the pomp and importance of a royal visit. Sigh. We'll just enjoy eating them then - and yes, I'll heap praise on those first earthy handfuls.

The garden is still mostly brown although if I concentrate I can see a row of spinach and just about spy the beetroot.

The greenhouse is crowded - which is good - young plants ready to go outdoors are jostling for space. The weather is still uncertain. Remember the runner beans planted exactly a month ago? They look like this now:

There are tomatoes showing their first flowers:

Basil ready to pick....some melons ready to grow and geraniums needing sunshine.

...and more basil and 'Hasta la Pasta', a favourite squash.

Indoors - and there has been a lot of 'indoors' as the weather has been so cold an wet - Broadband went walkabout for a couple of days. The small mountain kingdom of Trelystan felt strangely isolated. Instead of knuckling down and doing some of the chores which are always less interesting than travelling through cyber space I paced, grumbled and growled and spent much time staring out at the swallows sweeping low in the driving rain.  BT, my internet provider, blamed my telephone provider Talktalk, who win gold medals for their unctuous customer service and expansive ineffectual promises. The promised call to let me know how the work on the line was progressing has not yet happened. In the meantime I delved into my big box of spare parts and set up a new router - Just In Case. Mysteriously all was suddenly well. Perhaps there never was a fault with the line after all. 

It was a task both easy-peasy and unnecessarily complex. I always think delving into the Utilities Folder of the hard drive is a bit like venturing into the heart of darkness - a metaphorical ball of string to unravel so I could find my way out again would have been handy. Setting up the router was easy - but trying to restore the wireless connections to the printer from both computers less so. But hey! I did it. Just don't ask me how.....if the same thing needed doing today I know I'd be feeling the same bewilderment.

I was going to photograph the rats nest of cabling that resulted on my desk - and this even with a wireless mouse, printer and keyboard but in the end wondered what sort of sad fool photographs wires....

As I write this the Glam Ass. is vacuuming throughout. It’s quite a performance. Bits of kit which normally lurk at the back of the broom cupboard have been called into play; the little pointy nozzle thing, the brush for this and the brush for that, a new bag and a shaken-out filter. Chairs have been shifted, tables moved and anything un-vac-able gets a squirt of Mr Sheen and a thorough dust. The dogs have taken to their beds lest they fall victim to this frightening monster that swallows everything in its path.

Not that I’m complaining – far from it. I’m just not sure what’s set him off. I don’t think it was the dust bunnies which are approaching critical mass – nor the fact that it’s a job which Needs Doing Regularly. No, more to do I think with the possibility that some miniscule creature – a spider or fly – is lurking in one of the smoke alarms and setting it off. He's going to get rid of all potential pests.

At 01.11am this morning said alarm shrieked into life. Then stopped. We went back to sleep only to be brutally woken 10 minutes later when it set off again. Isn’t it horrid to be woken like that? A new battery perhaps? The ladders are in the garage and it’s dark and raining and then the dogs set off barking….I lie in bed and try to stay awake – a show of solidarity and uxorial support is necessary I think. There is much cursing and thumping about on the landing before the Glam Ass returns to bed.

He tells me he didn’t sleep a wink – waiting for it to go off again and I can vouch for that.

Let's hope it's done the trick. I shall leave the roar of the vacuum behind and venture out into the garden to plant onions and leeks. Right now, with the sun shining for the first time in days, the world looks rather green and good.